keter-kannot

[keter-kannot]

MINORS DNI

A very lovely thank you, again, to lovely moot @bashcrandicoot for another com of my favorite dragonborn literally ever 😌😌😌 (and Gale lol). Literally can't get over the fact that you keep wanting more?! I will write Dev and Gale forever if you let me 😫

Lil Summary: Walk with me, walk with me: So Dragonbornes have heat and rutt cycles SJSKAKLMAO and Dev is obviously an alpha 😌 here's how Gale deals with a dragon in rutt.

Word Count: ~6.2k

tw: lmao SEX, breeding, knotting, omegaverse kinda?, restraints, muzzles, light bondage, biting, little tiny bit of blood, pup play

Warm hands slid across Gale’s sweaty skin, following the dips and curves of his waist as he stirred on his side where he slept. It was impossible for Dev not to touch him like this. 

His breath was hot and heavy in his chest, raging through his lungs with a fierce desire that he knew he couldn’t control. He felt the furthest from himself when he was like this; the violent needs and urges bouncing around his skull making his hands quiver as his fingers brushed over Gale’s exposed hip. 

He could feel the drool pooling beneath his tongue, the heat radiating from his cock as it strained against the hem of his worn bottoms, twitching muscles spasming as his breath grew hotter, lower, soft grunts escaping his lips. 

He laid up against him, pulling his lover into him with as much gentleness as he could manage with such fire coursing through his veins. He laced a tense arm under Gale’s soft waist, pulling him a bit closer as he nuzzled his snout into his neck, breathing in a deep huff of his scent.

He couldn’t stop his hips from rolling against Gale’s ass, the hardening grip on his hip and waist growing tighter as the smell of him, the soft mahogany undertones swirling with his musk and deep breaths while he slept, the head of his cock throbbing as he let his tongue run over the hardened little scars of the matebite he’d left so many nights before. 

Gale stirred a bit, leaning back into Dev as he mumbled something still mixed deep in sleep. His breath quickened as Dev’s grip tightened, pulling him closer, bringing his tongue against the shell of Gale’s ear and letting a snarl escape his snout.

His mind was growing fuzzy, thoughts becoming cloudy with every exhale he let out, every roll of his hips... The more Gale stirred in his half-sleep haze, the more the tip of Dev’s cock would throb, the faster the pulsing would get at the base of his shaft as he felt a knot starting to swell. 

“Mmmmngg,” Gale moaned, licking his lips as he slowly fluttered into consciousness, muscles stretching and tensing beneath Dev’s needy grasp. 

As his eyes began to open, Dev could only hold onto him tighter, grinding into him with a softer sort of desperateness, choked whines muffled against the back of his neck, snout resting against his shoulders as his legs shook with the building pressure.

“Mmm… My sweet,” Gale grumbled into the sheets, unable to keep a deep flush from painting his cheeks and working its way down his neck, where Dev could feel his pulse quickening beneath him. 

He could only let out another hardened moan in response as he sucked in a deeper breath of Gale’s scent, the tender spots at his neck drawing him in with the way they seemed to glow softly in the moonlight cutting through the closed blinds. As he felt Gale start to squirm a bit more in his grip, he could smell the way his body started to yearn for him. 

He could hardly contain himself; Dev was swallowing hard and rubbing against Gale and pulling him into himself and huffing on his scent and growing harder and harder by the second, the way his sweat beading against his skin and dripped to the sheets and his hair was all tousled from tossing and turning and his voice was scruff from sleep’s heavy embrace and when he spoke his breath had a lingering bit of this–

“Needy tonight, hmm?” Gale asked, rubbing his eyes and chuckling under his breath as he finally got ahold of his surroundings, leaning a bit further into Dev’s embrace and tilting his head to the side just a bit. 

A shiver ran through him as he smiled, feeling Dev’s tongue flick across his neck again. 

Dev couldn’t comprehend anything outside of the sound of his voice, the smell of his breath, the weight of his body all pressed up against his own.

There was the shuffling of fabric against itself as Dev had Gale flipped to his stomach with a soft grunt, already lost in the thought of tearing him apart and marking him as his own. He’d do it again, and again, his pupils dilating as he got a good view of his mate beneath him, the feel of his skin sticking a bit to his scales and his little huffs as he was tugged and pulled and flipped over–

“ Oh, I see, puppy,” Gale muttered into the silken pillows.

Dev couldn’t focus–couldn't think–could hardly breathe as Gale’s words met his ears, lifting his weight as he sat upright and straddled him. The simple feeling of sitting all his weight atop him–how perfectly Gale’s ass fit between his thighs–had pre beading at his tip and staining the bottoms he still wore.

“You’ve gone into rutt, haven’t you?”

Dev’s body practically tensed as instinct finally seemed to settle in, flooding whatever was left of his coherent mind with its influence. His eyes were trained on Gale’s small smirk where he’d turned his head to the side to glance up at him, breath huffing through his snout as he took hold of the sheer sleeping robe that Gale still had lazily draped around his body, slowly bunching the bit of satin to the side between shaking claws. 

Gale pushed his face into the pillow, lifting his hips ever so slightly as he settled his hands at his sides, arching his back and letting out a soft breath. It had been a while since Dev’s last rutt; the thought of what he’d done to him last time had Gale biting his lip to stop his stomach from flipping, a small moan slipping from his mouth as he hid the flush growing on his face deeper in the pillows. 

Dev’s jaw tensed as he settled a bit more on his knees, grabbing either side of Gale’s hips and lifting them up just a tiny bit more. He slowly took his length against him, shuddering at the way Gale wriggled beneath his touch. 

“Just fuck me alrea–”

Dev’s worn hands hit hard against the wooden bedframe, claws scratching into the grain. He leaned over Gale with all of his weight behind him, hips smack ing against his ass as he bottomed out with his first vicious pump inside. His broad, heaving chest pressed against Gale’s shoulders, his entire body convulsing as Gale’s velvet walls clenched tight around his cock, coaxing a deep and guttural snarl out from his core as he groaned in pleasure. 

Gale twitched and tensed beneath him, wincing and sucking in a soft whine as the friction of such a hard entrance had him shaking for a moment as he fought to catch his breath. 

“Gentle! Gentle, please, I–”

Dev didn’t seem to hear him, too focused on how he felt deep inside to make sense of the words. The veins in his arms bulged as he gripped the bedframe harder, a few delicate cracks chipping away in the wood beneath each finger. He leaned his head lower, letting the tip of his snout grace against the nape of Gale’s neck, barely pulling out before pushing himself deeper and harder back inside. 

The smell of him had his breath quickening still, each inhale another hit of the drug that was fueling him, driving him. Each little sound Gale made had him closer and closer to the edge he was ready to plunge off of. He looked at him laying there beneath him, all flustered and still trying to manage having taken so much of him at once, and every single part of his body–from the tip of each horn down to the sinews keeping his scales on his feet– needed to claim him.

He leaned harder against him, straining as he practically cried out with need as his length worked itself over and over again, pounding into Gale without thinking of anything besides how good it felt to be buried deep inside and pressed up against him. 

His pants and groans were in time with his thrusts, the rhythm of it all keeping a steady pace that matched the pulsing of his building knot. His claws raked down the headboard, deep rivets drawn from the top to the bottom in one quick motion as Dev settled either arm beside Gale’s head. 

His writhing and squirming and whining at each thrust soon became wanton moans and tensing muscles and twitching legs as Gale let Dev overpower him, his thighs rubbing together as his cock was pulled against the sheets while Dev worked into him from behind. He wasn’t fighting it, but he couldn’t deny how good it felt to writhe a bit against the pain.

Dev’s breath caught itself in his hair, drool dripping from his snout as he lowered his head to meet Gale’s ear. 

“ Mine, ” he growled, clawing into the sheets and shredding into the mattress with a hard rock of his hips. He let his tongue trace the divot of where Gale’s collarbone met his neck, working its way with a hot breath up the curve of it and meeting his ear again, kissing him just beneath it as he got higher with each pull. 

He was gorgeous, all breathless and full of whine-filled moans as his ass took more and more of Dev, skin sweat-stained and radiating their shared heat as the light bounced off his shoulders but seemed to seep into darkness near his spine. There was a soft glow emanating from the mark that bitch left on him, the lavender hue shining off the satin and shifting off of Dev’s scales. 

The harder he fucked him, the stronger it became: it screamed to him to claim him again, to take him and ravage him and tear him to pieces and rebuild him as nothing but someone of Dev’s own. He was meant to be his, so perfectly eager to take him all and  push through that bit of hurt to please him and be pleased by him and let himself get used and marked and claimed and–

His words were broken when he spoke, but colored with his willingness to serve, eagerness to allow himself to be taken. 

A soft moan, a broken chuckle. “Yes, love. I’m yours,” he groaned, arching his back against the sudden pulsating feeling of his knot pressing against his entrance. He leaned a bit harder on his knees, relaxing as Dev laid his weight on him. 

“I’m… I’m yours,” he repeated between gasps, shuddering as he rolled his hips against the sheets and ass against Dev’s throbbing cock, burning to the touch with desire as Dev’s tongue traced over his shoulder and up his neck again, running over the old matebit again and lapping up the drool starting to drip down Gale’s back. 

Each time his chest filled with a breath and he felt him squirm a bit beneath him, Dev’s swirling anticipation only grew. Every tiny spasm and such quick relent into easy submission only made him more desirable, the aching in Dev’s core curling tight around itself as he pushed his half formed knot at his base into Gale’s entrance, keeping him pinned down as he did. 

Gale gripped at the sheets, hands twitching as they reached this way and that, eventually finding their way to Dev’s arms beside him and wrapping his fingers around them as far as they would go, his biceps bulging beneath the touch. Gale’s fingers pushed deep into his scales, barely making a dent. 

At the feel of Gale’s shaking hands grabbing at his arms, Dev let out another hard huff, every so slowly pulling himself back just enough to have his knot pop out for a second, then shoving it quickly back in. The way Gale whimpered into the pillows had his open mouth leaving sloppy, wet kisses up and down his neck and shoulders, tongue tracing over the nape of his neck and pressing down a bit over the spot where his pulse was picking up speed. 

Dev matched it, thrusting in and out of him with that same quickening pace as his building heartbeat, his erratic breathing causing him to falter as his eyes seemed to glaze over. Hot snout pressed against Gale’s skin, tongue bathing him in lust-driven, drool-slathered kisses and gentle sucks, his grunts were growing louder and harder and with each fumbling thrust he had his ever-swelling knot pulled out and pushed right back in, roiling over the way Gale’s tightness felt as it stretched to take him every time. 

As the final tidal wave of it all finally ravaged over him, everything seemed to shift. Suddenly, he wasn’t simply fucking him rough, he was taking him. He pushed him harder into the mattress as his pace quickened still, grunting and groaning at the way he seemed to whine with his face all pressed flush against the pillows. His back was hardly arched anymore at this point, Dev’s full weight holding him down and grinding into his ass with an aggression he’d never felt before, fueled by a violence and feral urgency that he’d never seen from his lover before. 

He didn’t seem to mind, though. 

“ Fuuuuuck, ” he whined, pleading as he choked out a soft sob, “ Fuck, Dev,” he cried, legs twitching and feet kicking as his arms strained while he grabbed at Dev’s arms, “you… this is– Ah! --Dev, you’re too much, it’s– You’re–”

It’s not that he hadn’t been pounded before–absolutely wrecked from the inside out and made to scream and beg and plead–it’s just that he’d never seen Dev so utterly lost in him, so aggressively ready to make him his. His hot breath on Gale’s neck only had that soft tinge of a purple light flickering against the satin, the head of his cock throbbing as it leaked pre into where it was pressed over and over into the mattress with Dev’s thrusts. 

Dev couldn’t help himself; the way he smelt, the way he tasted, that precious spot that he’d already marked so clearly before–right at the base of his neck, where it curved ever so elegantly into his shoulder–called for him to wreak yet more havoc on it again. 

He could practically hear it, hear the way the scent of him wafted through his skull and begged for him to do it again, mark him again, claim him, take him in a way that leaves him permanently made his. He wanted everyone to see, everyone to know, the thought of having him shown to the world as his own. 

He leaned against him further, whimpering against his ear between hot and heavy breaths punctuating every thrust. His grunts became intensely more labored as he took a deep, full breath of Gale in such a fucked-out state, so close to reaching his own brink from such a rough fuck, that he simply couldn’t stop himself. 

A hand was in his hair from where it framed his head on his side. In a swift tug, Dev had that perfect spot of Gale’s neck exposed, the four small scars from his previous bite only fueling his desire to leave better ones, deeper ones, something Gale would feel whenever a hand ran over his shoulder or through his hair; something hard to miss when others looked at him. 

There were no thoughts other than pure instinct raging through Dev as fangs bit through soft, warm, pulsating flesh, skin snapping beneath quick pressure and traces of hot blood pooling over his tongue. 

He’d forgotten how addicting it was; the slick tinge of mahogany infused copper slipping down his throat as that pressure of building pheromones pushing at the glands beneath Gale’s skin finally burst in Dev’s mouth. His tongue lapped over the places his teeth were embedded inside, ever so slightly staunching the blood flow as he let himself get higher and higher from the way it felt to have claimed him again. 

He was a slobbering, whimpering mess of grunts and whines as he drooled over Gale’s shoulder, ripping his ass apart with one violent pump of his cock after another. His knot was all but fully engorged, the base of it still throbbing and pulsing as it slipped back inside. 

He was fully sheathed in him now, rutting into his ass and grinding his hips hard against him as he pressed him harder still into the mattress, lapping at the tiny trickle of blood mixing with the dripping drool streaming down his neck. He whimpered and cried as he took one deep inhale after another aggressive huff, drinking in as much of that release from him as he could while he pumped ruthlessly against him. 

Gale, of course, came. 

Dev didn’t stop his ruthless rutting as he stained and wetted the sheets beneath him, Gale’s tip being pulled against the satin as his ropes soaked deep into the mattress. Dev ate the way he writhed beneath him, releasing his grip on his hair and wrapping his arms from beside Gale’s head to under and around his chest and torso, fingers gripping into supple skin on his sides and feeling the muscles beneath them tense and twitch as claws left gentle marks in his hardened grasp. 

Gale shuttered and spasmed and cried out into the satin, screaming his brutally extracted pleasure into the plush cloud-like surroundings as he gasped for breath. Dev didn't let up, mind swirling and heart racing as he continued pumping himself mindlessly, chafing sweat stained skin against bare ass. 

Tears brimmed at Gale's eyes from the overstimulation of being fucked through his first orgasm, the tightening in his core releasing momentarily only to clench up again on a quick switch and hard tug. Dev's breath was heavy in his ear as he murmured his love to his husband, thanking him for marking him again as his mate. 

But Dev barely heard the words, merely getting higher and higher, growing more and more crazed with his lust-driven, animalistic desire. Gale’s shuffling against the sheets was music to him, singing his praises. He was driven to new places with the heat and pressure he felt, gripping onto Gale and pulling him into him with as much force as he could muster, grinding and humping into him without reason or sense or any rhythm, merely chasing a high that he knew only Gale could bring him. 

The flickering light emanating from his chest kept being pulled into view only to be snuffed out again as Dev pushed Gale into the mattress with another thrust, a deeper pump, Gale twitching and singing his cries and praises all the while. 

It drove him. 

He leaned down again, getting another head high from the way Gale’s second mate-bite seemed to glow when that mark on his chest was pulled into the light, the tender pinks of the punctured glands having a soft sheen in the darkness. 

He couldn’t stop himself. 

That rush flooded through him again as teeth sunk into already damaged skin, tongue already lapping at the wounds as he whined between Gale’s little yelp of pain and shiver of pleasure. 

“Love…” Dev stuttered, mouth still clamped partially around Gale’s neck and tongue working its way over bruising skin, “ Mine, ” he growled, letting claws sink into Gale’s sides as he let himself get lost in the smell–the very essence– of what drove him to want Gale in the first place. 

Gale’s eyes opened wide as his cock continued throbbing beneath him, writhing his arms in Dev’s grip as he felt the pressure of the second–or third?--bite. He screamed his sing-song moans, his pleasure interwoven with his shock at the feel of Dev laying claim to him again. 

“D–Dev!” he faltered, crying out as tears began to brim at his eyes, another moan slipping from his lips amongst the rough slapping of skin grinding against skin. “I–”

Dev had his face pressed into the pillows again, all control lost as he nuzzled against the opposite side of his neck, fighting against Gale as he pushed him to the side with his snout and taking in a full breath of the scent of his hair. His eyes rolled back in his head as his teeth met flesh yet again, this gland sending him spiraling further into the pit of primal nature that he’d gotten so desperately lost in. 

Gale cried out for his Dev, for his lover, and was met with a rougher fuck, a harder thrust, a faster pulse at the base of Dev’s knot as it continued to stretch his hole further and further, swelling well past its limit as he ground harder into him still. He wriggled against his hold, squirmed against his grip uncontrollably shaking all the while. The harder Dev plowed into him, the quicker his cock was pushed again and again into the mattress beneath them. He didn’t need to hump the sheets, Dev was doing all the work for him. 

He knew he was going to cum again, and he knew Dev wouldn’t want him to hold out, but despite the building feeling of another, much deeper release than the first, he fought at the static in his mind while his limbs twitched, barely managing to get his hand between Dev’s grip around him, giving his wrist a quick snap. 

Time seemed to slow for that fraction of a second, Dev’s eyes widening as the feel of the soft yet strong bonds of the Weave restraints working their way around his snout. 

His reaction was immediate: there was something trying to stop him, to tame him, and he hadn’t even gotten to finish. He leaned backwards from where he was pressed up against Gale, sliding his arms out from underneath him and grunting and whining as he took his claws against the gently glowing magic and tried to saw his way through it. 

It didn’t matter that he knew how it worked, that he understood Gale’s magic; his will was gone, all knowledge taken out of his brain and replaced with the base impulse to shove his cock inside his mate and keep them bitten and pinned beneath him until they were full of his cum.

His struggle with the quickly growing muzzle was animal in nature, filling the steaming room with primal groans and angry snarls hidden behind the effervescent, ever glittering sheen of the thick ropes of magic he was fighting against. His writhing and pulling and yanking had him shaking and growling still deep in Gale’s ass, growing more viscous as time continued to pass. 

He cried and snarled and growled and yanked and pulled, and he could just feel the places where it held itself together starting to loosen. 

Gale took a large breath in as he watched Dev struggling above him. He turned a bit to get a better look at him, growing quicker and hotter as he struggled to twist himself around enough from where he laid. 

It would only hold for a few more seconds, with him in such a state… 

He squiggled a bit beneath him, wriggling about this way and that as he gulped down the rising lump in his throat as he heard Dev’s worsening struggles against his weakening magic. He shoved pillows to the side between harrowing breaths, reaching towards the worn oak nightstand that sat near his side of the bed, fingertips just barely managing to brush across the handle of the drawer–

Dev let out a short, deep growl at the feel of Gale tugging on where his knot was buried deep inside, eyeing him but unable to keep his focus on him when he was so, so desperate to mark him again, to bite him, to claim him. 

He lunged forward again, Weave-muzzle pressed firm against the matebite on Gale’s glands that still let out small pin pricks of blood. The smell of it drove him further, had him rutting into his ass again with that faltering rhythm, before snarling and cursing as he leaned back once again to grip the side of his snout’s cage with his claws, rolling his hips and pressing them firm against Gale’s ass as he bent forwards and backwards as he worked his claws once again beneath the shiny purple ribbons. 

Gale was pulled this way and that, fumbling as he kept reaching towards the drawer. There was an urgent snap and creak as Dev put all of his strength into ripping the magic from his snout, eyeing Gale as he seemed to froth at the mouth with the rage he felt at not being able to sink his teeth beneath his glands again and again and… again …

Gale steadied himself for the hard pop of the knot coming out of his ass: the drawer was still just a few inches away, Dev’s weight still pinning him down from behind. His squirming was pointless if he didn’t work his way out from under him, the anticipation building again in his core as he started to work himself out from underneath. 

Dev’s frustrations grew larger the longer the muzzle held onto itself, the diminishing light of the waning magic fueling his desire further, proving that what he was doing was working, if he could just fight longer, harder, give just the tiniest bit more, he’d finally break through it, get to him, get to claim him, get to ravage him–

His foaming drool dripped through the weakening cage-like muzzle that had clamped around his snout, fangs bared as he snarled and continued clawing at his face as he could practically taste the way his mate felt on his tongue.

Gale tensed himself, pulling forward just a tiny bit more, inching up towards the headboards and gritting his teeth and biting his lips–

Pop

He only had a second before Dev was on him again. He could taste the tension settling over the room as the feral animal of his lover comprehended the chill running over his knot, how Gale had slithered out from beneath his clutches. 

He held his hot breath, feeling Dev’s gaze drilling into the back of his head as he scurried from beneath him and slammed his hand over the handle of the drawer, yanking it open and fumbling around with the mess inside before finding that small strap of leather and grabbing it with full force. 

He yelped as he felt Dev’s hands grab at his shoulders from behind, that soft purple glow of the Weave-muzzle finally extinguished: both from Dev’s rutt-induced rage and primal desire and Gale's lack of focus and building anticipation. He just needed another moment–

He was grabbed, flipped, tossed… The hard and cold metal gripped tight in his palm as Dev had his sweat-ridden body to its backside, the stain of his own cum stinging the scratches Dev had left over his ribs. 

His hands were all over him, running up and down Gale’s body like they were looking for something, searching for something that they’d already found, electric sparks sending instinctual shockwaves down Gale’s spine as he shivered beneath his touch. The way he looked at him–dregs of drool and foam still dripping from the sides of his maw–already had Gale made to puddy again beneath him. 

He leaned over him, cock already deep in his ass again and the pressure of his knot already beading at his entrance. He’d been stretched so far already, but his hole was still throbbing and aching as he felt it begin to stretch even further once again. 

Dev’s eyes glinted in the moonlight, the slits of his pupils displaying how deep the urge went, how hot his blood ran and how desperately he felt the need to make Gale his bitch again and again and again…

It was a split second of a moment, Dev lunging down once again as he finished pressing his knot all the way inside, Gale squirming beneath him as the tip of his own cock was throbbing as it was pressed tight between their waists. Dev’s fangs were primed and ready to pierce flesh once again, the high of leaving his snout clamped around his mates neck already rushing through his head–

Gale had the freezing metal of the muzzle pushed up around his snout and snapped shut tight, holding his mouth just slightly agape as he once again gnashed at the bars.

But, this time, there wasn’t any magic for him to push through. 

There was an immediate rage that hit him once again, claws raking over and through metal bars and wires that held tight and still. The cold death of the grip the metal had over him was met with the burning of his scales, the foam dripping from his fangs as he gnashed his teeth together and screamed out, growling at and crying through his screams at his mate. 

Gale couldn’t help but to kick his legs out with the sudden rip through his entrance once again, the knot having doubled in size from when it was ripped out before. While his eyes shot to the back of his skull, he gasped for a breath with his full chest. One leg twitched around Dev’s waist, toes curling and hair standing on end, while the other kicked against the mattress. He didn’t realize how close the fear had gotten him until he was shooting ropes over his stomach and chest, arms flailing about as they reached for Dev, grabbing his heaving shoulders and pulling him down to lay atop him. 

His twitching and crying and whimpering and grabbing only had Dev lunging down at him again, hands still ripping at the sturdy muzzle to no avail as he shoved the cold metal against Gale’s swollen glands, pushing more of his scent straight into his snout as he inhaled it, salivating at the urges it wrought inside of him and raging at not being able to bite him. 

He pushed the muzzle against his neck again and again, drawing high-pitched moans and sultry whines from Gale’s quivering lips as he continued to fuck him through his second high, still eagerly chasing his own with dilated eyes, a heaving chest, and a throbbing cock. The closer he felt himself get–the tighter Gale’s wall’s clenched, the faster the pounding in his knot, the more his breath seemed to waver–the faster he gnashed his teeth, clawed at the bars holding him back. 

Gale heard every hot pant and acrid grunt, wrapping his arms around Dev’s chest and shoulders and arms and running his hands over his horns, his shaking hands pulling his snout up ever so slightly and away from that aching, still bleeding gland, and towards his ear. 

He took one deep breath after another, trying to center himself after such rough forced second high and finding it difficult, still speared on Dev’s twitching length. But he held his breath, let his hands trail gently over his lover’s horns, and spoke with a breathy voice directly into that feral part of his core. 

“Too much, too much biting, Dev,” he heaved, swallowing the bit of drool that had pooled on his tongue, “I need you to tell me, instead.”

That only seemed to anger him more, an arm reaching up to the headboard behind them as he slammed a fist down on the wood, raking his claws down the delicate carvings and crossing through the divots he’d already made earlier. 

“Tell me,” Gale gasped through whispered pleas, groaning between words as Dev rutted into him ruthlessly, “Tell me what you need, love.”

Dev’s groans grew louder, grunts grew quicker, breath got heavier as drool dripped from his fangs onto the metal bars of the muzzle and over Gale’s neck, seeping over the fresh matebites and mingling with his intoxicating scent. That alone almost had Dev over his edge; almost. 

“N– need ,” he started, only to get lost in his growling and slamming his other arm against the headboard, his entire weight latent on his hips pressed firmly against Gale’s snout inches above his mate’s mouth as he gnashed his jaw, tears brimming at his eyes. 

Gale wrapped his other leg around Dev’s waist, just barely able to link his ankles together behind him as he pulled himself against his cock with each rutt, letting his aching and throbbing tip hit against Dev’s waist with each pump and wincing between gritted teeth as he whispered.

“What is it that you need, love?”

Dev threw his head back only to whip it forward again, pressing the muzzle up against the crook of Gale’s neck and taking one deep inhale after another, trying to drink in the high he was chasing.

“N… Need you,” he whimpered, taking his hands from the headboard and tangling his claws in Gale’s hair. 

They laid there, intertwined and dripping into one another in every sense of the word, Gale’s legs wrapped tight around Dev’s shaking waist as he plowed into him in the tightest, messiest, brutalist mating press the two of them had ever managed. His chest was laid against Gale’s, his weight pinning him to the mattress beneath them, hands tangled in his hair as Gale gripped at his back and shoulders. 

“ What do you need from me, my sweet?” he cooed, fingers gripping onto Dev’s scales and feeling the heat radiating from them.

He didn’t feel the burning tear dripping from his shut-tight eyes, whining like the bitch in heat instead of the one so desperate to breed. 

“I… Fuck, Gale, love… I–I ne–need you ,” he whimpered, pushing his muzzle harder into the forming bruises on Gale’s neck, “I need… Breed,” he breathed. 

Gale smiled against Dev’s shoulder, licking the bit of sweat trailing over its side and writhing as his tears started hitting glistening skin. 

“Oh, my sweet love,” he murmured, wrapping his arms tighter around him and holding his horns steady, “ tell me.” 

He was close; he felt it. The way he pulsed inside of him, the way his knot felt like it was about to burst, how his core twitched and throat ached–

“Need you,” he cried, more tears leaving hot trails down his cheeks, “you… Gunna fill you,” he breathed, “fill you… Mine –need you, you, love you, lo–love you,” he gripped at Gale’s hair, feeling his breath growing and faltering in his chest as he ground his teeth together. 

“I love you, ” Gale whispered, whirthing beneath him, “And I’m yours,” he smiled, feeling his length quiver as it was dragged between Dev’s waist again, “all yours.”

“Ye– yes, ” Dev all but pleaded, “mine, mine… Fill you, bre– breed you, mine, ” his rutting faltered, his pace grew quick and sharp and sloppy, “Gunna… Need to… You–” he held his breath, opening his tear-stained eyes for a moment to get a good, solid look at how Gale was smiling up at him, all cock-drunk and love-worn and ready to be bred and made a good little bitch for his mate. 

“ Fuck! ” he groaned, shoving his muzzle against Gale’s hair, “S–so close, ” he begged. 

Gale’s shaking hand shivered as it ran down his back, cradling him as he shook and writhed atop him, already growing closer and closer as he matched his lover’s cries for release. 

“I’m yours, my pup,” he muttered between soft and desperate moans, “yours to fill, yours to breed–”

“Mine– Mine! ” he snarled, feeling himself finally approaching his peak, “Gunna fill… Fill you full and–and cl… fuck –claim you, you, mine, love… love you… M–make you c…carry my–”

Gale’s third orgasm is what pushed Dev over the edge: the constant pulling of his cock between the two of them, over and over and over, Dev working relentlessly into his ass… He’s surprised he was able to hold out for so long the third time. His lame bits of spend pooled between where their waists were pressed together, the hot and sticky feel of it against Dev’s scales causing him to shudder as he pulled back on Gale’s hair, staring down at him as he finally– finally –got to breed him the way he needed. 

Within the first meagre pump of a load Gale was already overflowing, ropes and ropes of Dev’s cum dripping out of him and flooding down his ass, thighs, staining the sheets and mixing with their pool of sweat and Gale’s earlier spend beneath them. 

Their breaths were heavy and spent, pulsing together and creating a rhythm that they could come down together with. 

It took a moment, but Dev settled on his arms, laying on Gale and letting his head lay in that small crook of his neck as he caught his breath, tensing his jaw as he flushed. 

Gale merely chuckled, a soft flutter flipping over itself in Dev’s stomach as he heard the soft breath of his lover’s laugh. He tried to hide his snout deeper in the crook of his neck, but couldn’t; the muzzle kept him from getting close enough. 

“Are you… alright, love?” Gale asked, his smile tainting his words as he let a finger trail over Dev’s horn. 

He shivered at the soft touch, wriggling a bit where he laid atop him, nodding a bit as he felt his knot pulse against at its base. 

Gale sighed as he tried to cover a soft moan, only falling into another soft laugh, anyway. “I’ll take it off when the knot finally dies down, okay?” he sang. 

Dev groaned, but smiled to himself. It’d be a while before that happened. 

[keter-kannot]

If my lesbian torture porn doesn't turn you on then this is a dead art i am a dead artist 😭

How do fanfic writers feel knowing that people might have been masturbating to their work?

[keter-kannot]

Now, if it ain’t too much trouble or might get in your way, do a NSFW alphabet for the extremely fucked up changeling we all know and love: Orin the Red. Futa or not futa is up to you.

MINORS DNI

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

D U H of course :) Mommy the Red may or may not be my current muse so this one may or may not have gotten a bit long lmao y'all have been warned.

For some additional context here, Orin's got the worlds worst case of mommy 'n daddy issues, but is always the sadist top. Not that she doesn't revel in her love of pain when she needs it, but when she's the one giving it, making them hurt... There's nothing that could pleasure her more.

tw: blood blood blood and cuts and gore and knives, of course. This is Orin, after all. Breeding and necrophilia mentioned, sex slavery

A (aftercare): HA! To start, we need to get a good and deep understanding of just what Orin considers care in the first place. It's already an act of mercy and care from her to even want to ruin you in the first place, seeing the torn and bloody mess of you as the perfect gift she could give. When it's all said and done, though, and you've been left a flayed mess of blood fueled ecstasy and gore drenched orgasms and voiceless from screaming for help that never came, she'd be the type to curl up beside you and tell you just how good you did for her. How perfect you look all ripped apart, how proud she is of her pet for taking her blade so well and crying such hot tears.

B (body part): To Orin, the entire body is a canvas awaiting her artistic touch. There's not a single part of her pets that she doesn't want to touch, caress, cut, tear... every inch of pure unmarked flesh is a part of you begging to be decimated. Maybe that's what she likes the most: tearing away the skin to see what's underneath. Half of it is the hot, fresh blood making its way between straining still-alive muscle, but the other half is how sweet the cries and whimpers of pain are once she gets that far.

If we're talking about her own body, however, this is where things get a little fun. Her body can be whatever she wants it to be at any given moment, letting her favorite form be whatever it is that you call for at a particular moment. Something extra big? Sharp? Fangs? Barbs? Her favorite, though, is anything that can hold you down and keep all her cum nice and tight inside. Figure something with a barbed knot, gripping to sensitive walls and drawing enough blood to trickle down bruised thighs.

C (cum): Let's take a brief moment to discuss the Bhaalist breeding kink: IT'S HUGE. I'm not pulling up the dozens of quotes from in-game regarding Durge 1) wanting to spread Bhaal's seed or any iteration of that, 2) AALLLLLLLL of the fun family wreath shit with Sarevok and whatever deep and guttural urge it is that drives that. With that said, however: Orin is not immune from the Bhaalist Breeding Urge, and gets just as feral as you'd think she does when it overtakes her. The moment the though hits her brain, there's nothing she'd even want to do to resist it. If you're a vessel for her desires, then you're also a vessel for Bhaal's seed. And when she fills you, leaving ropes and ropes of her rancid cum tucked deep inside, she'll sometimes call out to daddy Sarevok, asking if she did good in making you another perfect breeding bitch for Bhaal.

D (dirty secret): While she wouldn't consider it much of a secret, it is saved for the most perfect of her sacrificial lambs, the most compliant pets that look to her with the glassiest, broken eyes. There are times when she craves to be known; truly known, seen, tasted, heard by her unholy Father and held by her dead and rotting sacrifice of a mother and be told you've done well, love. And so she searches for it in the depths of Bhaal's temple, tucked away in her bedroom where her mother's corpse sits on display, with a pet she knows she's perfectly molded into just what she needs you to be. Then, when she fucks you with a messy sort of reckless abandon that's unfitting for such a devout child of clean murder, she begs. She sinks her blood-stained nails into your already begotten skin, her salty tears stinging against never healed wounds while she cries to you, begs and whimpers to you to tell her she's been good, to tell her she's everything you need her to be, that you're proud and that you love her. Even if she begs for it with a knife to your throat.

E (experience): She knows exactly what she's doing. For someone as young as she is, it's no wonder she's grown so quickly in Bhaal's cult. It's scary, just how much she knows, just how deep that knowledge flows in her and what she's capable of doing with it. Sure, she happens to know every little bit about each of her pets, everything about who they were before they became hers... but it's also what she knows about their bodies. If she treats each session with you as a moment of blissfully rancid destruction and rebirth, then each and every second of those sessions is time she spends learning you. She knows how to play with you, sure, but while her fingers rip open untorn skin, she's learning what it is that makes you tick. What parts to touch to make you sweat, where exactly to leave a hard bite or breathy kiss... Every stroke of her blade, every step she takes as she stalks you, every thrust, every kiss, every grip and tug and slap... it's all perfectly placed to make you sing in her praises.

F (favorite position): Anything that has you splayed before her, restrained. She wants to see you squirm and beg and cry and convulse beneath her, but she can't have you in any way thinking you could get away. Whether it be chains or leather straps or rusted cuffs or merely stabbing a pike through broken skin and deep into whatever it was beneath you, she has you held still beneath her and ready for whatever she sees fit to do to you. Sometimes you'll be chained to a crude version of a mattress, or merely cuffed to a mount in the floor. Other times, though, you'll be tied together and suspended from some place or another, simply left dangling there for Orin to come and take. She merely needs to have you spread before her and kept still to be satisfied.

G (goofy): Okay this is a shorter one here, but lol no, she's not goofy. That's not to say there isn't maniacal laughter or sick jokes to taunt and tease you--of course she turns you into a glutton for humiliation--but every time she gets a moment with you, it's a sacred ordeal. Sometimes she has her congregants, other times it's merely you two in the lone presence of Bhaal, but every time is a moment where Orin has set to her unholy work, and there's nothing more serious than carving you into her desires and marking you as her own.

H (hair/bush): This one can get a bit tricky for the same reason as before; she’s a changeling. It changes. But, for the sake of general continuity, let’s discuss her normal, day-to-day Orin form. The carpet definitely matches the drapes here, but she keeps herself well-groomed, despite the blood and guts. It’s not really an unruly bush, well trimmed up the sides and on the top, but it’s there nonetheless. 

I (intimacy): The romance is the act of defiling you. As she peels back layers of skin, she’s showering you in her love. Every slice and cut and stab is a splattering of her intimacy, the very act of wanting to cut you to a million pieces being her unholy act of servitude. She chose you, she wanted you, she picked you, all of which themselves are a gift of their own. She ruins you with purpose, dedication, and with a love for her craft. There’s nothing more intimate than when Orin sets her gaze on your naked and ravaged body, blade in hand, already drooling at the thought of just how much more she has in store for you. 

J (jack off): Let’s face it. At this point, Orin rarely has the need to pleasure herself with such a perfectly broken pet ready to take in her every command. Whether she’s frustrated and in desperate need of immediate release, or has a more complicated plan involving a bit of set-up and daydreaming, you’re there for her to use when she needs. And, oh, does she need quite often. But before it all, when she was gripped by that hot and grueling lust and had no way to satisfy that hunger, she’d lay herself down and suck on the sharp edges of her blade while she played with herself. When the taste of her own blood wasn’t enough, she’d bring her knife along her chest and waist with her free hand as the other made a mess of itself in her cunt, fondling each deep cut and gash with purpose, reveling in how much perfect pain she could make herself feel. When that wasn’t enough, she’d search for the nearest corpse, if not create one herself, to lay beside her on her bed, bringing death as close as possible to try to get closer and closer to her own high. She always managed to find it there, between her own slick-covered hand and the soulless, dead eyes of her temporary bedside companion. 

K (kink): We already touched on the breeding, and that is 100% something that she carries deep within her fucking genes because she’s a Bhaalspawn lol, but there are a few others that I think we need to mention if we’re going over what Orin is known for here. Of course, there’s the blood and knives. That’s her signature; every smooth cut a stroke of her brush, your blood the paint she’s creating a portrait of her love for you with. It truly is art to her, your body made simply for her to have, the purpose of your birth nothing more than to give her something to desecrate in your future. Your blood was made for Orin to spill, its taste and smell and the way it feels all silky and smooth between her fingers having her addicted to keeping it coming, keeping you flayed open and draining. But it’s also the pain. It fucking fuels her, keeps her full and engorged and ready to take more. The way you sing and cry and whimper and whine and beg… it’s her favorite song, a hymn the two of you have written just for Bhaal to hear. It rings in her empty skull when she’s alone at night in her room, causing her to hunt down a pet already found and take it for all it’s already given. And while she has to keep you alive in order to keep abusing you, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t fantasize about your death. How perfect you’d look when your blood finally stopped pumping through your veins, the way your skin would fall ashen and ghostly, the slack jaw and lifeless eyes… Limp and lifeless and silent, an empty vessel for her to do with as she pleased. Again, keeping you alive and in pain was half the fun, but a necrophiliac of a girl can dream.

L (location, favorite place to fuck): She’s not shy. She’ll take you anywhere and everywhere; privately or before a crowd, in a dank cellar or out on the streets. Obviously, though, her favorite place would have to be tucked away in Bhaal’s temple. She’d make it known she prefers to have you chained in front of her father’s throne, leaving you to whimper and sleep before him as a reminder of all the praise she deserves, but also to show him how well she was at spreading Bhaal’s seed. Her true favorite place, however, would be beside her mother’s corpse tucked away in the corner of her room. That’s a sweet little secret the two of you share, though. 

M (motivation): There’s 100% some overlap here with some of her kinks, particularly the blood and pain. Every cry and whimper you make pushes her even further into needing to ruin you, the pain she inflicts already motivation enough. But why keep a little pet like you in the first place? Of course she was told she needed to breed over and over again, more than one attempt gone awry under Sarevok’s insistence and watchful gaze. But no one told her to pick someone to keep, not in the way she’s keeping you. But who is anyone to deny her? With all the time you’ve spent together, you’ve learned more than enough about your master and what makes her tick, too. She carries the very essence of the lord of murder, which is clear enough as it is. But there’s something else burning inside of her that’s begging to be satiated, something that she can’t get from all the control she exudes and yet continues reaching for, anyway. And when she sees you leashed and chained and gagged, fresh blood mixing with the old congealed trails running through open wounds and half-healed cuts, it tickles that part of her and she can’t help but to keep searching for more. And who is anyone else to stop her? She’s made her claim and stance loud and clear, very few daring to step before her path and interrupt her stride. If she wanted to keep you for her own pleasures, it wasn’t up to them to stop her. 

N (no/turn/offs/won’t do): Honestly? I can’t think of something that Orin wouldn’t do if she wanted to. During canon, there’s a list of things she can’t/won’t do because of certain rules or regulations of previous agreements with Gortash and Ketheric, etc. etc. But if we take those away, the only person she’s left obligated to is Sarevok, and the only God she’s indebted to is Bhaal. While it’s obviously horrid and I don’t condone it, I can say with certainty that Orin would cross every line and pass every boundary if she so wished. If she wants you cum-covered and rolling in a pile of your own blood and piss, then that’s what happens. 

O (oral/preferences in giving vs. receiving): While she’s definitely the cunnilingus master, her preference is forcing you to give it. One of her favorite things is watching the life drain from your eyes while your fucked-out and gagging on her throbbing cock, your throat constricting around its growing mass while foam and drool drip from your chin, your eyes rolling back in your skull as your body convulses and your grow unconscious… only to come to rasping and coughing for breath, choking on your own blood and spit, Orin’s hand in your hair already pulling back down her length for another round. Watching you fight for life and breath again and again was the closest she could bring you to death without killing you outright, and she loved it. 

P (pace): There’s a time and a place for both rough and slow, and Orin knows them well. While pain is her forte, she can get it no matter what her pace. Whether she’s rocking into you slowly, cooing her viscous praise and tracing open cuts with gentle fingers, or slamming her knot inside repeatedly without care or thought of anything else, she does it with experience and grace. When she takes you before a crowd, she knows how to perform, bringing you slowly into the rhythm of being ruined before slashing away with an unrelenting speed. 

Q (quickies): Orin isn’t immune to needing that quick release before going about her tasks for the day, or being too worked up to get anything done and needing a quick moment to take it out on you before she settles back down. But as always, it’s done with intention. There’s rarely sloppy pounding and sudden lustful urges, but rather precise movements with planned executions. If she’s angry, she knows what she needs to do to you to let it out. If she’s in need of that awful bit of secret desire, she knows the fastest way to take you back to her room. Every moment is controlled, every movement flawless, as she tears you apart to seek a quick moment of release and pleasure. 

R (risk): She is a walking risk. Every idea she has is a new risk. If she dreams of you tied up for public use in the temple, it happens. If she thinks of you dissected on a dirty surgeon's table, she does it. When she wants you swollen and bred and barefoot and toddling behind her like the breeding bitch for Bhaal she’s made you, she makes it happen. The only person who can raise a hand to her is Sarevok, but why would he? While he doesn’t love the distraction, he understands her want for something more… fulfilling, maybe permanent from a partner. So he lets her have her fun. 

S (stamina): You’re not done until she says you're done, which could be a few long minutes or aching stacks of hours upon hours. It truly depends on her needs in the moment, but you know her stamina is high, especially when that breeding urge takes her. To her, there’s nothing satisfying about merely cumming in you once or twice; if you’re not choking on cum and swollen under the navel, leaking from every hole, she hasn’t done her job. And that takes… as long as it takes. 

T (toys): Of course she has a slew of toys. While the shape-changing is already fun, so are her cuffs and ropes and wires and needles and knives and… It’s not just giving pain that she’s so skilled in, but the art of torture itself. Whatever sharp and unholy instruments you can imagine, she’s managed to get her hands on. 

U (Unfair/how much do they tease): This is one of her specialties. If pain is her form of intimacy, teasing is just another form of gentle praise. You're her pet, not her equal, and her words make it more than clear. She loves to elicit your sweet songs of pain and worship to her, speaking along in her own vicious tones of mocking cruelty. She tells you how perfect you look at splayed about beneath her, how your body was made for her to desecrate, how the scent of your blood calls to her in a language you can’t hear and how beautiful you are when you’re covered in your own waste and blood and rot, skin sagging from broken bones and blood pooling beneath you. She knows how to bite you with her words, forming them around whatever way it is she needs to break you down next, only to build you up again in her own design. 

V (volume): Loud. Whether she’s telling you to beg or doing the begging herself in a one-off moment of need, she’s never one to stifle herself. She moans into hot skin and open cuts and talks her praises and humiliation into you like a practiced script, her words carefully curated to do everything she needs them to. When she gets lost in that feral urge, her labored grunts and snarls for breath are heard echoing through Bhaal’s temple. She sees it as her job to make sure the whole world knows how good it feels when she fucks you. 

W (wild card/random hc): Okay okay okay, you’ve just gotta follow along and hear me out for this one because I know it alllllll just links back to my own personal nasty breeding kink LMAOOO don’t judge me, pls :) But obviously the cult of Bhaal keeps track of their offspring, spreading as much of Bhaal’s seed throughout Fae Rune as they can as living things themselves. But Sarevok has fallen into a bit of a habit of indulging Orin’s desires, letting her make a show of when she breeds you and when you give birth to their congregants. Of course, there’s always some form of complication, whether it be on unholy nature’s end or merely being too mangled to ever carry to term, but each gathering is a show nonetheless, always ending with you either drenched in Orin’s cum or your own blood and fluids. 

X (x-ray/show me those genitals): Blah blah blah, she’s a changeling, they look like whatever she wants them to look like at any given moment. However, let’s get into a bit more detail about what I’d like to imagine as her favorite cock, shall we? While it always starts at a moderate six or seven inches each session, it’s always grown to at least twice the length by the end. Protruding veins that bulge and pulse become high ridges with convex bumps, stripes of them running underneath and along the sides of her shaft. Each ridge has nerves of its own, providing an ungodly tingle with each stroke or pump inside. The head is tapered in a way that gives it its own flared base, built in a way that shoots her ropes of cum straight into your cervix every time and leaves no gaps for any of it to slip past it and leak out until she decides to pull out on her own. The head itself has also got a nice little ring of ridges right at its slit, that extra bit of grip causing some more friction against slick and bleeding walls. And, of course, the barbed knot. Sets of sharp spikes set just underneath the skin, pulling and pulsating with each thrust as they grip onto shredded skin and gore. Once it makes its way inside, the barbs sink deep into hot flesh, gripping the walls of your cunt. It can only be ripped out and slammed back in with the force of Orin needing to breed. Oh, and the balls (or, should I say, Bhaals… heh sorry)? HUGE.

Y (yearning/how high is their sex drive?): It’s HIGH. But of course a Bhaalspawn has the sex-drive of a bear in rutt, there’s not a lot they can do to control that, now can they? Orin doesn’t always visit you daily, but when she lets you sit in your filth for a few days at a time it’s planned that way, with reason. She made you her pet for the fun of it, sure, and maybe because she does truly crave some form of destroyed and dilapidated relationship and connection with another living thing, but she keeps you for her pleasure, and she wouldn’t need that if her sex drive wasn’t off the damn charts. She breeds you, trails you around on a leash, leaves you locked away for days on end as her own sick way of proving just how much you need her… 

Z (zzz/how fast to they fall asleep after): lol Orin? No, fucking is how she starts her day. And ends it, sure, but this is not something she does to feel physically “relaxed” after the fact. 

[keter-kannot]

Do you mind giving everyone here an NSFW Alphabet for a futa Ripley 8?

MINORS DNI

AAAAAAA ABSOLUTLEY I DO NOT MIND R A H

I honestly really enjoyed doing this one, it was a nice break between all the college stress going on lol so feel free to send in more!!!

A (aftercare): not necessarily the type to run you a warm bath and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, but definitely the type to hold you down as she purred her drool-filled snarl against your skin, letting her cum leak out of all your holes, licking away your sweat to leave her scent all over you to make sure everyone knows you're hers.

B (favorite body part): I mean, Ripley 8 oozes confidence and knows just how alluring she can be. Her favorite, though, is her massive, pendulous ball that provide the perfect slap against her mate's soft and supple skin. Her lover, though? Ripley's favorite part of them is their waist, absolutely enamored with the tummy bulge she makes when she's fucking them.

C (cum): B U C K E T S of it, you could swim in it, it's thick and hot and ropey and flows from her cock in heavy streams. It's got that off-white color to it, but it's not as opaque, almost a bit translucent when the light hits it. Her giant balls hold small pre-fertilized eggs within the viscous liquid, ready to mate whichever lucky soul catches her interest next.

D (dirty secret): Now Ripley 8 isn't the type to let her mates out from underneath her so easy, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't like it. There's something about having to fight for dominance, fight to take over her prey, that wakes up something primal inside of her that she can't deny. She'd never let anyone test her that easily, but she wishes someone had the nerve to try.

E (experience): Oh, experience? Ripley 8? Yeah, so maybe there aren't necessarily "heat" or "rutt" cycles, but again, it'd be hard to deny that part of her DNA that craves a hard fuck. The first time was something she could barely control, losing herself and nearly desecrating her mate, but she's learned control over time. When she gets that urge, though, there's nothing anyone can do to stop her from jumping on them. She's not just experienced in knowing what she likes, either; she prides herself on knowing she can get her partner's off.

F (favorite position): N A S T Y mating press lol I'm not sorry, knees pressed against the shoulders and hips smacking together like fucking drums

G (are they goofy or more serious in the moment?): While Ripley 8 can tease her mate and get them squirming, there's nothing unserious about it. When she's got them beneath her, the only thing running through her mind is "breedbreedbreedbreedbreed," not leaving much room for any kind of funny business lmao

H (hair): My amazing and lovely mutual, who sent the ask btw, has gotten it cemented in my mind that Ripley 8 has the most gorgeous 80's bush a woman could dream of, and I will not be taking suggestions on that, fuck the alien DNA mommy has a hot bush

I (intimacy): Again, there's not a lot of gentle holding-you-close or soft lovemaking, but her intimacy is rough, almost violent. Gripping her mate to prove they're hers, marking them with her scent and bites and bruises and scratches and cuts to show everyone just who they belong to. The intimacy for her is claiming you, owning you in that moment, and making sure you won't ever forget it.

J (jack off): Remember those urges from E? Yeah, so if there's no mate around for her to mount, that still won't stop her. That urge in her has her entire body on edge and wired to the max, every muscle tensed and vein twitching. It's all but instinct to grind into a little lump of pillows, tearing apart the mattress and bed frame as she ruts endlessly into her own creation.

K (kink): B R E E D I N G, Ripley 8 doesn't leave a mate unfilled or unmarked, ever. Once she gets her hands on them, they're hers and hers alone. To prove it, she keeps them all swollen and pregnant and barefoot and covered in her marks and bruises, when they aren't kept leashed inside. They are hers: her pets, her mates, her breeding whores, and they're going to like it.

L (locations, favorite places to fuck): Her favorite has to be her little den, where the walls are covered in her spend and blankets and pillows have been torn to complete shreds. She's marked that space as her own. Don't get me wrong, though, she won't let being out and about stop her. When the urge takes her, it doesn't matter where she is.

M (motivation, what turns them on): Besides seeing her mates all cock-drunk and lost and whimpering beneath her? It's almost hard to place, but there's something about that sort of innocence about the mates she picks, something that screams that they are just waiting for someone to take them away and let them lose themselves entirely. Whether it's that sort of primal part of her alien DNA that's causing her to search out the most willing mates and broodmother's, or merely a preference for those who are a bit easier to break and mold to her own will, she can't tell. But it excites her.

N (No, turn offs, something they wouldn't do): While she shares herself eagerly and happily amongst all her breeders and mates, she would never find herself sharing them with anyone else. What's hers is hers, and if anyone threatened to take them from her, she would kill them.

O (oral): While Ripley 8 is for sure a master of cunnilingus, she'd again be lying if she said she didn't like seeing the way her cock stretched out the throats of her mates. It was a different sort of view, watching them choke and gag and struggle while their drool dripped down her thighs... Yeah, she prefers to receive, but doesn't mind giving, either. She has far more control over her long tongue than a normal human would, able to curl it up just right as she dug it deep inside her mate's cunts.

P (pace): Oh, she is fast and rough. As soon as she gets herself inside, there's nothing in the world that could hold her back. But again, this is her intimacy, this is her way of showing each of her mates just how much they mean to her, how deeply she craves them and how difficult it is for her to hold herself back. Breeding them in such a way is almost like a drug to her.

Q (quickie): sure, you can try for a quickie, and it's not that Ripley won't initiate, but you're hysterical to think that it's actually "quick." Pulling a mate to a side alley while they're out and about because she just couldn't help herself, but it becomes heavy grunting while you're pressed so hard against the stone wall that your chest chafes against the roughness of it, having been pinned there for more than a single round of Ripley 8 filling your hole. Once she gets started...

R (risk, do they like to experiment?): 100% yes. Everything from floggers and crops to ropes and cuffs to collars and chains and spikes, Ripley 8 is willing to try it. Anything to get her mates lost and fucked-out beneath her is on the table.

S (stamina): Oooohhhhhhh boy... There's a minimum of four or five loads of cum before she's even started to consider being done. Each pump inside of her mates has her aching and craving and searching for another, each load of cum filling them further and further towards their edge. Watching them fill up with her seed only makes her hungrier for more, and the more fucked-out her mate becomes, the sweeter their cries to her ears.

T (toys, does she have any/use them?): Again, she's not really against anything that'll get her mates slick and ready, so she's probably got a fair share of fun vibes and dildos on hand. She'd consider it all another form of foreplay, though, because at the end of the day, the session is for breeding purposes first, pleasure second.

U (unfair, how much do they like to tease): Occasionally. When a mate is in an aggressive mood, or decides to be a bit bratty, Ripley 8 knows just the right words to say and just the right way to leave small touches that'll have them all but screaming for more. Her teasing is always called for, though, and is always met with swift punishment and a good fuck to let it all sink in.

V (volume): Loud? Fucking insanely. Grunting and snarling and groaning and screeching as she cums, Ripley 8 is not the type to hold her breath, nor does she want her mates to, either. Half of the fun is watching them fall apart beneath her, getting to hear their broken little whimpers and cried moans of pleasure. Neighbors be warned, buy some earplugs or something idk she's a fucking animal and isn't afraid of hiding it.

W (wild card, random hc): Personally?? And I'm sure you could probably already tell, Ripley 8 is THE alpha of all alpha's in my mind. She has her den where all her breeders and broodmothers are kept, some tied up while others lay comfortably in nests she's made for them. They all crave her, need her in the way she needs them, and they want nothing more than to be kept full of her offspring at all times. It's her perfect little breeding den asl;dkfasldfj sorry if that's a bit cracked

X (X-ray, what's under those clothes): her cock is HUGE. H U G E. Obviously. I'm talking 11" hard when it's finally unsheathed. Ribbed up the sides, flared near the head, with prominent veins protruding around the taught skin. There's a long, hard line running up the center of it's underside, pulsating and vibrating with her pleasure the closer she gets to her orgasm.

Y (yearning, how high is their sex drive?): It's in her very bones, a part of her very blood, to need to reproduce with aggressive vigor. Her sex drive is constantly in overdrive, her cock engorged with a knot ready to pop at the smallest little whimper or small whine from a mate.

Z (Zzz, how fast do they fall asleep after): Not very fast! Ripley 8 can go, and go, and go and go and go and go.... Sleep comes when she's tired, which is not mutually exclusive to happening after a good fuck. It's in her nature to need to breed, after all.

[keter-kannot]

Are questions for/about headcanons allowed? Like if we want to hear how you think X woud do this/that or what some scenarios would be like?

OH 100000000% YES 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

[keter-kannot]

(minthara voice) ah yes...the famed slumber parties of menzoberranzan. we waged great wars of pillow fights in the name of lolth. the gossip...legendary. no boys allowed, of course.

[keter-kannot]

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

MINORS DNI

Oh my god what?? I'm back with more??? Yeah, so @thecourtofgraywaves gave this killer prompt. It's a shorter piece involving a tav who is a descendant of Gorion's Ward, which is LOVE, and will 100% be revisiting at some point. But here, freaks, eat this for now 😌

Word Count: ~2.4k

Summary: Gorion's ward's many greats granddaughter made her way to Baldur's Gate with the love of her life and a new family on her horizon, only to be met with the distant ghosts of her family's past seeking her out for their own sick revenge. Bhaal would be proud

tw: noncon/dubcon, r*pe, incest, blood blood blood ridiculous amounts of blood, forced abortion, i mean really slicing tav to pieces here, broken bones, public humiliation, voyeurism, exhibitionism

There was a horrid pounding in the back of her head as she slowly came back to herself, her eyes barely able to flutter open as she struggled to cough and gasp for breath. The immediate sensation of being strung-up, pierced through skin, coursed through her body as she yelled out with a screech of pain, not knowing where she was or if anybody would hear her but unable to keep her cries to herself any longer.

She felt the blood dripping from the hooks hewn through her wrists as she shuddered and shook with the vile feeling of a heat she couldn’t control coursing through her, her body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Her swollen stomach glistened in the dim light, more fear brewing inside of her as she thought of the fate of her unborn child. Her dirtied toes scraped against the hard broken stone that was beneath her, the very tips of them keeping her upright enough for the hooks through her skin to tear straight through and send her falling to her knees.

The dusty light swam through the sides of her vision as her chest was wracked for breath. The shadows around it moved slowly, with a purpose she couldn’t concern.

“Help!” she screamed to them, her voice raw and bloodied as no one seemed to turn to face her.

She coughed as she cried, frantically looking around to try to piece together her surroundings for a possible escape only to be met with dark blackened stone splattered by dried gore, murals of a God she’d only known in her nightmares painted thick in blood on every flat surface. Intricately carved thrones and platforms held small flickering flames that fought to survive in the dank air, gasping for breath just as much as she was.

The soft murmuring of words not understood grew, the ringing in her ears subsiding as she drooled down her chest as she hacked upon herself, her own spit and bile dripping from her chin and staining her sweat ridden body, rolling across her rounded stomach and dripping to the floor beneath her.

His voice was a harsh rumble through his chest, cowering over the others she still couldn’t quite understand as he spoke to the room.

“She’s back with us,” he said, rising from his seat in the center throne, taking a deep and hardened breath as his eyes glowered behind his mask, lifting his arms to either side, “The mother-to-be. It is time.”

A deep silence fell heavily over the congregants, a harsh darkness following a cold breeze caressing her naked body. She couldn’t control the shiver, jingling the chains she was bound to and hearing the sound of it echo throughout the stone room.

It was her they were waiting for.

Her breath hitched in her chest, eyes widening. There was nothing she could do to fight, to preserve herself and her child, and yet the resistance in her burned hotter with each passing moment as the hard slap of bare feet were heard strutting with purpose throughout the room, growing closer and closer with each breath she took, each shake of her chains.

Sarevok’s voice pierced through the cold silence.

“We have gathered to bear witness of family reuniting,” he spoke, “of Bhaal’s blood finally finding its way home.”

She could feel his gaze burning through her as those cold, hard steps continued making their way towards her.

“Our Father has led her home to us,” he said, his arms stretching out towards where she was so perfectly positioned for slaughter with hands open and welcoming, “giving us more of his blood to sow through our soil.”

Her breath faltered as a cold hand made its way to her waist, fingers trailing over the curve of her hips and bulge of her stomach and swollen tits as she closed her eyes shut tight against the shiver. Serevok’s words were punctuated by the harsh breath of death Orin breathed on her neck from behind, pressing her body up against her as her hands kept exploring with a gentleness unknown to a Bhaalspawn.

“Now, granddaughter,” he huffed between his own darkened grin, “we witness the beginning of what will soon be His end.” There was a sly chuckled seeping between his lips as the dim lights seemed to darken even further, all breaths held until he spoke his final words.

“We witness His Chosen bringing forth the future of murder and blood through the blood of His so long forgotten.”

Orin’s soft grip on her breasts became harder, nails gripping into skin as she could feel her heart quicken with the excitement knowing what she was about to do; the honor of getting to ruin her this way.

“We bring forth a new generation of Bhaalspawn!” he all but cheered to the room.

“In His name.”

Then, there was a realization: a moment between her flailing and resistance where something seemed to settle inside of her. The fog clouding her mind didn’t fade, but shifted deep within her thoughts, her eyes widening as the blood drained from her face as she understood where she was, who they were, and why they’d taken her here in the first place.

Orin’s claws were deep in her skin within moments, her shriek of pain lost to the crowd’s joyous outbursts and praise. She turned her head from one side to the other, shaking furiously as she pulled against the chains hooked through her skin, searching for a way to pull herself free from Orin’s sudden grasp and finding none.

As blood spilled from the grip of Orin’s claws down her hips and thighs, the sudden pressure at the entrance to her cunt made her scream.

Orin was inside of her before she’d finally understood that there was no use in resisting, her constant tugging against her restraints only causing fresh blood to drip from the wounds of her wrist. It made its way through the congealed river of the blood she was already caked in, the taste of the rancid iron when it hit her tongue making her gag as she cried out her pleas for freedom.

Orin’s pace was quick and merciless; practiced, almost, as if she’d been waiting for her moment to destroy her from the inside and imagining just how good it’d feel. Her claws were no longer pressed into her hips now that she was nestled deep inside, rather raking through her naked back and waist to bathe her in more of Bhaal’s blessed blood. With each thrust into her already broken cunt, Orin added another cut to the countless others running over her skin, creating a painting for her unholy God upon his own child’s flesh as a canvas.

She didn’t register her cries, only feeling the salty tears burning as they dripped upon the cuts scattered across her chest. She didn’t know how long they’d had her bound and hanging here before she woke, only that the little fight left inside of her was fleeting, energy depleting the longer she continued to fight against the pain and desecration.

She sucked in a deep breath, fighting her screams against the burn of Orin’s claws working their way around her neck as she ruthlessly continued pounding into her cunt from behind. She struggled to hold her head up, daring to face Sarevok as he stood amongst his congregants, the sick smile plastered on his face only showing his pride in watching his lineage defile another.

And here she was, finally putting all the pieces together and all because she was lucky enough to have been caught with her guard down and taken.

She mustered the last bit of strength left deep inside of her core, not giving Orin the satisfaction of looking down to see the blood pouring from her now open womb as she shook and cried amongst the pain of her claws fingering themselves deep inside. Instead, took her tear-filled gaze to meet Sarevok’s own, the rhythm of Orin’s throbbing cock and pressure of the hand around her neck only bringing forth more.

“You… my family has ended you before,” she gasped as she fought for breath, Orin’s grip only growing tighter as her other hand rummaged around her insides. She held her breath against her cries, saving it for her words, “and I will end you again.”

He shook his head as he laughed, the deep rumble all but shaking the walls around them. His posture changed as he addressed her, a sick a twisted sort of control seeping between his words as he looked upon the scene of Orin ripping a fistfull of gore and flesh from within her, throwing it to the ground before them.

She writhed in the pain, throwing her head back within Orin’s grasp as she shuddered where she was held upright, screaming to Gods that wouldn’t hear and Deities that didn’t care. She cried out with the endless squelching of her wrecked cunt tight around Orin’s ribbed cock, harmonizing with her sick grunts and giggles as she continued destroying her.

His eyes went dark as he spoke, pride gleaming within them as he watched.

“I am your family, child,” he muttered, looking at the congregants mumbling as they pleasured themselves, “we are your family.”

Orin’s laugh only grew from behind her as her grip tightened around her neck, only growing looser as she was taken to the brink of unconsciousness. Her blood-drenched hand was no longer fondling her now dead child, instead painting swirls of her own gore upon her body as she tugged on her arms from where they hung on their hooks.

The pain coursed through her like shock waves directly to her core again and again, each shriek accompanied by a tense burst of muscle tightening, pussy dripping as it quivered with Orin deep inside. The horrid flap of skin hanging from her stomach hit against her thighs as her blood drenched the floor, her head growing light as she fought to breathe amongst her cries.

And Orin only seemed to take more pleasure in each shed tear, every terrified cry of pain. Her eyes dilated as she ate in her pain, drank up her disgust and grief and loss, and looked to her father for praise as she drilled into her harder, deeper, further.

Sarevok nodded at Orin’s gaze, only prompting her to go further. Her breaths between her laughs of horror became quicker, hitched as she tugged against her arms with more force.

The tear of her skin echoed off the cold stone walls, the sound of her cries mingling with those of pleasure from the crowd as they devolved into a mess of sex and blood upon themselves. They sang their praises to their God as Orin reveled in her place deep inside her.

The hard slap of her body against the ground was bitter and crisp, her hands limp and broken as her blood flowed freely upon them. It pooled in either palm as she twitched where she lay on the floor, curling in on herself as she cried in her pain, trying to keep her organs packed inside of her body as Orin dragged her across the floor.

She mounted her with a newfound vigor, bottoming out as she pressed her weight atop her. Her grunts became labored as she strained against her cries, lapping the tears from her swollen cheeks as her voice became raspy and numb, giving way to her silent cries.

As she tasted her broken tears she was only fueled further. She pushed her cock hard against the walls of her cunt, holding her hips tight against her own as her tip throbbed at the entrance to her cervix. Her thighs clenched tight together as she shook against the pressure, the pool of her blood she was laying in only growing as it mixed with her tears, slick, and drool. Her hair was plastered to her face as Orin took a fistfull of it in her hand, yanking her back to make sure she could see the temple she was defiled in clearly, the image of it burnt deep in her mind.

“If only Gorion could see his ward’s descendant now,” Sarevok spoke to her, his words laced with the venom of revenge finally sated, “he’d know he had never saved my brother from Bhaal’s clutches; could never keep His blood from returning home.”

His words drove Orin’s cock deeper as she rutted without pause, biting at already broken skin and drinking in her blood the more it seeped. She took pleasure in her destruction, in bringing her as close to death as she could, in replacing the useless child so viciously ripped from her womb with one of her own, with one from Bhaal. She skewered her with her swollen cock, its throbbing growing stronger the closer she came to her release.

She looked towards Sarevok with eyes full of pride, yet still searching for praise. She pulled her head back further, letting the gash of her mangled stomach be put on display as she smiled.

“I’ll be pleased when the deed is done,” he spat to Orin, waving a hand and nodding his chin as she let out a rancid growl.

She shoved her head hard into the stone, her grip in her hair only growing stronger as she let her claws again cut through the already shredding skin of her back. Her exposed muscle throbbed and pulsed where it was sliced, bringing Orin closer and closer to her peak as she grunted with her need for praise from her father.

Her forced thrusts were rough and becoming more sloppy as she continued to slice her apart as she rutted into her cunt. The hot breaths of the congregants under Sarevok’s gaze overcame the dark chill in the air, replacing it with the condensation of bloodied, sweaty bodies exploring one another for their God of murder and death.

And Orin found her deepest pleasure in knowing she was breeding another distant child of Bhaal, doing her own father’s work in his wake under his watchful eye. She would be praised.

She didn’t feel Orin’s cum flooding her womb, nor the slow staunch of her blood or burning of her cuts. She only knew that it had all finally stopped, Orin’s task complete as she lay in a pool of her own spend and gore, nothing but the womb of a distant cousin for her defile until more Bhaalspawn were sewn.

[keter-kannot]

First time doing this 😭

Uhmm...fem reader who's very much a dom...and gale who's very much a puppy boyyyy? Pleaaaase? Here's three cookies as payment 🍪🍪🍪

Anon, I've been meaning to write some good omega sub tiny little bitch baby boy on-his-knees-and-begging Gale. This is a lovely excuse to do so ♡ any other requests??

[keter-kannot]

MINORS DNI

I LOVE DEVOUR SO MUCH 😫 thank you again @bashcrandicoot for the com, Dev is perfect and beautiful and I love writing him ♡♡♡ (especially as a bottom 😌😌😌)

Summary: Gale and Dev usually have a certain dynamic, but tonight Gale is bent on breaking it. Dev wouldn't tell you, but he's a really good pup once Gale finally drags it out of him. Oh, and extremely innapropriate uses of mage hand.

Word Count: ~7.7k

tw: pup play, bondage/restraints, burns/burn play, hard dom/sub, whips, impact play, orgasm control/denial

The soft yellow light just barely bounced off the curve of his horns, cascading over the dark wooden table before him. From where Gale sat, it was the perfect view; Dev’s eyes squinted just a bit, brows furrowed, hands working over the delicate piece of wood he held. The curve of his back was gentle as he let out a sigh, bits of dust flowing off the table as they caught the breeze of his hot breath. He leaned on his hip a little, turning the piece of wood over in his hands before shaking his head and setting it aside.

Gale’s eyes were wide from where he sat, eating up every small movement he made. The way he’d turn to grab another piece, how his fingers plied the tools, dragged the blade with the grain of the wood… He sighed, sinking a bit deeper into the plush chair he’d situated just in the corner of Dev’s little room to do the exact thing he was doing now: enjoying every second of watching him.

He’d do it more often, if Dev would let him. There was something different about him when he really got to focusing, and it was something Gale couldn’t get enough of. His body would tense as he’d think, tapping his fingers against the wood of the tabletop before making a decision.

As he worked, his sweat would bead against his scales, the drops slowly finding their way over the ripples of his scales and down his back as he leaned forward to get a closer look, then further away to take it all in. With each lift of a finger, each twist of an arm, bend to the side, Gale seemed to fall deeper and deeper into the trance he held over him.

He could practically hear the gears in Dev’s head turning as he worked over the bit of wood, swearing under his breath when a scrape of his knife went awry. He stretched his arms back, took in a deep breath, before letting it out and hunching back over his piece of art to continue his work.

Gale couldn’t help but flush at such a display.

He cleared his throat, his breath stifling a bit in his chest as kept his eyes trained on Dev’s hands.

The way they feel, he thought, running up and down my skin… he swallowed hard before shaking his head, twiddling his thumbs in his lap as he watched Dev’s gaze sharpen in on the small lump of wood he held. His form was stout and strong where his feet were planted on the floor in front of the workbench, but each small stroke of his blade against the wood was soft, gentle, full of care and done with purpose.

The air in the room became thick with the smell of his thoughts, focus, work, sweat… Gale got lost in it all. For the first time in a long time, Gale sat upon his little seat with not a single word to say, simply drinking in the visage before him. Dev’s honed muscles tensed and flexed as he worked, Gale’s eyes widening and breath quickening with each little movement, every little breath.

It was the way he did it with such care, and yet was still so controlled. The way he could contort the wood he held by gently shaving it down, shaping it to fit whatever it was his heart desired… it stirred something deep in Gale’s gut. The way his hot breath filled the room, the very smell of him permeating the air around them, had him sitting on the edge of his seat, salivating at the thought of getting to see what happened next.

The more he watched him work, the faster the gears in his brain seemed to turn, the harder his heart thumped in his chest. Every thought he had tumbled straight into the next one and it took just about every ounce of strength he had within him to keep from falling into the depths of the last time he’d been pinned beneath him.

Between a hot flush and a short squirm, he’d take a few deep breaths and shake his head, humming a bit to himself and smiling. But it only took another moment or two of watching his calloused hands work over the softened wood for him to fall back into the pit of his own design.

He shifted his weight on the soft seat, crossing his legs and leaning his head against the cushioned side of the chair. As Dev groaned beneath his breath, hunkering down a bit further to get a better look at a rough knot in the wood, Gale found himself biting his lip and curling his toes.

I’m going to make that man scream my name.

He gulped down another breath, his eyes squinting a bit as he stopped fighting the thoughts and let them wash over him.

He’ll be begging for it by the time I’m done with him. Wait, no, begging for me.

Dev groaned, shaking his head as he set another hunk of lame wood to the side. Gale’s eyes snapped to attention as he watched him. He reached deep into the pocket of his worn pants, fishing out half a cigar before turning to smirk at Gale as he gestured towards him for a light. He nodded ever so slightly, spinning the tight cigar with one hand and calling Gale over with a bend of his fingers.

Gale was already flushing as his eyes widened, smiling under his gaze as he giggled a bit to himself before standing. He turned to the side before looking at Dev again, then taking a step towards him.

“Cheap fuckin’ wood,” Dev mumbled, his breath seeping out from between his lips as they held his cigar in place, a hand trailing to Gale’s waist as he came to stand before him, “chippin’ and fallin’ apart between my claws,” he chuckled.

Gale couldn’t help but to gape a bit at the touch, lifting his finger towards Dev’s lips as a hint of a flame sprouted from the tip of it, holding it just where he needed him to for a moment before getting lost in that look he had in his eyes.

Dev raised an eyebrow, smiling down at him as he puffed on his treat.

Gale giggled, taking in a deep breath of Dev; his sweat mixed with the sweet scent of dried wood was something he wanted to savor. He could all but taste it.

Dev’s smile widened as a small ring of smoke floated from between his lips, gracing Gale’s face before he took a step back, his hand falling back to his side as he leaned a bit on the workbench beside them.

“Yer real cute, sittin’ there and watchin’ me,” Dev mumbled against the heady tobacco, nudging Gale’s foot with his own as he patted a hand on the side of his pants and nodded.

Gale rolled his eyes but couldn’t contain the hard blush painting his cheeks.

“And you’re–” he stammered, clearing his throat, “You’re quite handsome, all focused like that, even if the wood is lame and full of knots.”

Dev lifted his chin just a bit, closing his eyes as he puffed away for a moment more. He let out a low, soft groan as he rolled his shoulders back before lifting his head to look at Gale again.

Gale took a step closer to him, mouth just barely hanging open as he smiled, watching Dev stretch and feel so at home here with him. He laid a soft hand on his chest, looking up at him with all of that wonder, but that aching hunger, too.

“I could watch you for hours,” he muttered.

Dev laughed under his breath, pinching his cigar between two fingers as he tapped a bit of ash over the desk before leaning closer to Gale, his breath hot on his face as he looked down at him, the cigar burning off to the side.

“Nah,” he started, a sly grin working its way across his lips, “too distracting for me. Maybe it’s your fault I can’t stay focused ‘nough to finish what I start.”

Gale’s tender touch against Dev’s chest became a soft grip of his loose tunic, the strings already falling undone. The two of them rocked a bit on the wooden floor where they stood, the haze of smoke filling the room only dimming the already soft light of the burning candles.

Dev placed the cigar back between his lips, eyeing Gale with desire. He placed his hand on his back, letting it trail slowly down his spine before settling just above the hem of his pants.

“As if I’m the distracting one,” Gale mumbled between a hot breath and a soft gasp, licking his lips as he kept his eyes trained on Dev’s.

“Oh?” Dev laughed, leaning in closer to Gale, letting a bit of ash fall from the tip of his cigar and down the front of Gale’s shirt, “care to indulge in your… distractions?”

There was a moment of pause before Gale smirked, his hand falling down Dev’s waist and untying the belt of his pants–

Dev grabbed his wrist, holding him tight as his other hand graced Gale’s chin, lifting his head so their gazes met again.

“So eager,” he chuckled beneath a hot breath, slowly dragging on his cigar in between, “How ‘bout you get on yer knees, pup?”

The grip he had on Gale’s writst was tight, but not overbearing. The way his hand could perfectly grab him, hold him still, get his attention... Gale’s eyes were wide as they began to gloss over, that fluttering in his stomach becoming a heat growing quickly in his core.

No, no, he thought to himself, with the briefest shake of his head.

He smirked as he met Dev’s eyes again, squirming just a bit. His growing erection twitched as the head of his cock throbbed, seeing the way Dev’s expecting gaze fell upon him.

He swallowed hard, his voice caught in his throat for a moment before he managed to speak.

“Why don’t you get on yours?” he could feel the blush staining his cheeks as he stammered.

For a moment, Dev continued to eye him up and down. His brow furrowed, then raised, before his own smirk grew into a smile as he slowly released his grip on Gale’s arm. He took a long, thoughtful drag of his cigar before letting the smoke out with a grunt, eyeing him while he struggled to contain himself.

“I bet ‘ya couldn’t make me,” he grumbled between haughty chuckles, “but it’d be cute to see my pup try.”

Gale squeezed his thighs together as Dev watched him, drooling over his words and weighing the odds, even if he already knew in whose favor they’d tip.

He felt the heat in his stomach churning over itself as he took a slow step towards Dev, not breaking the hard eye contact they held between them. He took a deep breath, letting the very essence of him fill his lungs and fuel him, raising a gentle hand.

He licked his lips, laying his hand on Dev’s waist while the other reached yet again for the ties of his pants, barely able to restrain his own pulsing bulge.

Gale felt him tense beneath his soft touch, his scales beneath his fingertips sending shockwaves down his spine. He worked away the ties, beginning to tug on the hem as he leaned in for a kiss—

Dev bent to grab at him again, holding his wrist between muscled hands and setting a foot between Gale’s own, his knee rubbing against his clothed shaft as he tugged him closer. Gale’s moan was soft first, then louder as Dev dragged him along his thigh, his other hand fondling his cigar before smothering his lips in a heat-filled, sloppy kiss.

Gale went with the motion he was guided with, kissing Dev back with vigor as he pulled against the restraint of his hands. His tugging only made Dev chuckle, pressing harder against his cock as he laughed into Gale’s open mouth.

He laughed deep into his throat, drinking in his soft and breathy moans as he worked over him with aggressive hands, holding him still for a moment only to pull him closer a second later. He worked him over in a way he knew he could; in a way he knew Gale wouldn’t be able to resist.

He started to melt between his grasp and the heavy smoke falling from his lips, moving exactly as Dev wanted him to and folding right into him as he continued to breathe against the kiss. It was gentle the first time he tried to pull away, a soft tug against the hold Dev had on him, only for his grip to tighten and for Gale to moan against it.

“Hmm,” Dev groaned, taking in a deep drag, “And here I thought you were willing to put up a fight,” he laughed.

Gale grumbled against his lips, pushing himself harder against Dev’s thighs as he pulled a hand free from Dev’s grasp at his wrist, the other shoving his arm to the side before reaching to grab at the hem of his shirt.

“Who said I’d even started fighting?”

Gale leaned harder into his devouring kiss, pushing himself against Dev’s chest as he grabbed at his throat with purpose, his fingers gripping his scales. He pushed against him harder, growling into him,

Dev let him have his way for a moment, even letting himself enjoy the way Gale’s hand felt wrapped around his neck. He smiled as he let him take control for another second or two, loving the way he looked while he thought he had it but loving him more when he got to take it from him.

He was swift as he grabbed at him again, pushing him back and against the workbench behind them. It didn’t take much for his calloused hands to wrap around his thighs and lift him upon the counter, pushing his legs apart and standing himself between them as he started working his pants past his cock and down his legs.

Gale yelped as he moaned while he was lifted off his feet, letting out another hot breath as he was placed harshly on the counter. Dev’s hands started ravaging him, his hips rolling gently against Gale’s bulge as he worked through their continued kiss. Gale pushed against him hard, trying his best to fight against the way he was now trying to hold him still.

“I’m…” he huffed between hot breaths, groans laced between them, “I’m not going to let you win.”

Dev laughed, pinning Gale’s hands on the wall above his head as he rutted into his legs, “Let me?” he chuckled against him, letting a sharp fang drag against his inner lip before licking away the smallest drop of blood, “You ain’t lettin’ me, little love,” he growled, “Yer fightin’ pretty hard.” He took his cigar in his free hand, fondling it before Gale's eyes and watching the way his breath faltered.

Gale’s eyes went wide with the way his fingers gripped at the dying light, the yearning for the sweet, sweet pain he knew Dev could bring him all but bursting at the seams. The softests of gasps escaped his lips, his eyes fluttering in the dim light as Dev started to tilt him back, pushing his leg up a bit further with his free hand after putting the cigar back in his mouth.

With both aggression and finesse, he managed to hold Gale still beneath him amidst his struggling and remove the wizard's pants.

“Hah,” he panted, having Gale laid out before him just right, legs high and spread as he looked up at him with expecting eyes, “Really thought you’d get to fuck me?” he chuckled, licking his lips as he set up his tip at Gale’s entrance, “You take my cock too good for it to go any other way, sweet pet,” he moaned, ever so gently pressing down against him, bringing the lit cigar closer to his bare skin.

Gale quivered against the pressure, letting the moment wash over him as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, time seeming to stand still.

Dev laid his weight against him, trapping him beneath his body. His tail flicked back and forth, the soft breeze making Gale shiver with anticipation. He felt himself drooling, his hips rocking against Dev’s thigh with vigor as he worked his shaft over his tense muscles, just the tiniest bit of pre leaving a trail of where he’d been.

Dev’s grip on his wrist tightened, a short breath leaving his lungs as more ash wafted away from its tip, a smirk growing on his lips as he took a hand to his lips and pinched it between his fingers.

“Now,” he groaned, leaning further into him as the head of his cock barely worked its way between Gale’s ass, “be a good boy for me, eh?” he chuckled. bringing what was left of the cigar near his collarbone.

It’s not that Gale didn’t want it; he did. He needed him, breathed him, wanted him to destroy everything that he was and rebuild him in his own image while he padded along behind, pleasing him. His breath hitched with his thoughts of the ecstacy he knew Dev could bring him, soft moans slipping from between his lips as he fought to keep his gaze.

But there was a hunger in him, too.

It ravaged through him, filling his core with a drive to use him, abuse him relentlessly, make him beg for all the things he wanted. That feral urge inside of him grew with each shortened breath, every wanton moan. As everything within him tensed, he felt something snap deep inside, releasing whatever it was that he didn’t know was trapped there.

For a second, the lights dimmed. He could feel his eyes vibrating where they sat inside their sockets, his breath raging through him with an urgency and hunger unknown to him before. When he finally opened his eyes to meet Dev’s gaze again, there was something different there..

Dev’s hot breath stained Gale’s lips as the cigar sat hovering above his skin, the heat of it radiating through him. He watched Dev breathe, taking a breath as his smirk stretched wider, his hips pulling back as his chest raised.

With tender hands amongst their lust-fueled violence, Gale took the cigar from Dev's fingers and place it between his own lips

Gale could see it clearly: feel it clearly. For the briefest moment, shorter than it took him to draw a shuddering breath, Dev’s grasp on his wrist faltered, became just slightly looser.

“My handsome fool,” Gale whispered, the words barley meeting Dev’s ears, breathing out a haze of smoke between pursed lips, “how disappointing of you to underestimate me.”

Dev was strong: a mass of muscle and sinew that glistened in its sweaty glory as he worked, strained against itself as he tensed and twisted and worked himself over the man he knew he could control. Each movement had Gale entranced but, today, his strength was outmatched.

Beneath his faulty grasp, Gale stretched his fingers, rolled his wrist. It didn’t take much for him to control his breath; this is what he’d practiced all his life, after all. He didn’t need much, just a moment, a–second–to balance himself.

His eyes grew dark, locking onto Dev’s own.

He mumbled the soft words, flicked his wrist.

The reaction was immediate, not a moment in between his motion and the results.

The cigar fell to the floor, Dev’s grip on his wrists completely falling away now as lilac light-bound restraints snaked their way around his arms, yanking them back with another swift wave of Gale’s hand. As Dev’s eyes widened and he made his first attempt to tug against them, another identical set wound around his ankles, keeping his feet planted firmly on the floor with his legs spread while his engorged cock bobbed in the smokey haze of the air around them.

Gale shed the rest of his clothes with ease, reaching for the cigar and twiddling it between his fingers as he rose to his feet. He took his time eating up the look of him like this, his hunger only growing with each slow step he took around him, each puff of smoke escaping his slick lips.

As Dev tugged against the perfect chains that could never be undone, Gale stalked about him, waiting. The slow circle he made gave him the perfect view of everything he wanted Devour to be for him in this moment: helplessly, totally, fully his.

Dev’s breath became labored as he finally understood what’d happen. There was some unrecognizable feeling broiling deep in his gut that only fueled him to tug a bit harder, pull a little more, resist, resist, resist.

And he liked it.

So he kept up his strained pulling and grunting, hips twitching in the empty air as Gale laid a soft hand on him here, let it drag around his waist there… he was feeding that part of him, letting it grow stronger and stronger. His eyes narrowed as Gale made his way around him again, hand still so gingerly placed upon his hip as their eyes met.

But this time, Gale wore the smirk of triumph, while Dev got to taste the sweet flavor of defeat.

“You are simply exquisite, my treasure,” Gale hummed, letting his hand make its way to Dev’s aching shaft, teasing him with a squeeze as he wrapped his hand tight around his base, gripping right where he knew the pulse of his knot would start.

His statement was true, too. The haze of the smoke filling the dim candle-lit room only added to the facade of his mystique: here he was, restrained and spread before him, the soft, glittering rays emanating from his chains sparkling against the sweat staining his scales. Every breath he took had him heaving where he was held, his chest tightening as he pulled against something that would never break again and again, his own hunger brewing within him.

He growled at Gale, snarling as he began to make his way back around him, out of his line of sight. He stirred harder, knowing and loving what would come next and growing restlessly as he was made to stand on display and beg for it.

He bucked his hips against Gale’s grip as he stepped away, releasing his grasp and chuckling to himself as he laid a hand on either of Dev’s hips, caressing him with fervor, desire.

“Patience,” Gale tutted against the shell of his ear, leaning away as he whispered another incantation that was meaningless to Dev if not only to excite him more.

Every little movement he made, every time he showed his hunger and tugged against his restraints to resist, Gale was left drooling for more. He puffed along at Dev’s treasured treat as he pushed small rings of smoke from between his lips, taking the thorn whip in his other hand and let it trail along Dev’s legs, thighs, ass, waist…

He groaned with a desperate desire as he huffed out a sneer, his throbbing cock only heightening his lust-filled rage. Dev shivered against the whip as it’s thorns barely left a small mark while it dragged across his body, growing louder with each gasp as he relentlessly kept up his useless fight.

Gale shook his head from where he stood behind him, a brief nod bringing the restraints holding Dev’s arms down ever so slightly, bringing him forward to just the right height for Gale to line himself up with his puckering hole.

“Relax, pet,” Gale teased, immensely enjoying the way it felt to suck on the last bit of the cigar between his sly lips, “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Despite his tugging, his resisting, his fight to return to the top, Dev’s hips rolled back against Gale, nestling his tip perfectly inside as he let out a strained groan of pleasure.

That was all Gale needed to finally get lost in the hunger that had been consuming him.

He slammed himself deep inside of him, not hesitating to bottom out with his first hard pump. The second followed quickly after, starting his relentless pace on Dev, who called out in pleasure despite his constant squirming. Gale lifted his arm with finesse, knowing just the right way to snap it down to get a solid crack from his magic whip, relishing the way Dev arched his back at the sudden sound and pressure between his legs.

Gale took the cigar from between his lips, pounding into Dev with a newfound rhythm as he twirled the butt of it between his fingers, raising the whip back above him again with a spark lit somewhere deep within his core. He smirked as he took it back down upon him again, putting the cigar back to his lips and groaning with delight as he smoked it some more.

Dev flexed beneath him as he struggled and failed against the restraints to shut his legs against the building pressure in his stomach, snarling at the empty space in front of him as he twitched around Gale’s length. His eyes all but glazed over as he gave into the feeling, letting himself rage against how good it felt as his own special way of begging for more.

Knowing how much he wanted it brought a deep flush to his cheeks, a hotter burn to that pit deep inside of him. And yet he found himself enjoying the shame, pulling harder aganst the restraints and pushing his hips back against Gale’s ceaseless pounding with whatever movement he was given.

“Oh, my dear lover,” he chuckled, bringing the whip down with a hard crack again, but this time letting it hit against Dev’s glistening scales and pushing himself deeper inside of him when he writhed with the short pain, “quit being such a brat, hmm?”

He wouldn’t, though; he couldn’t, it wasn’t in his nature. He was finding too much pleasure in his fight to resist and the shame that came with it. Why stop now?

His groans and grunts became hot curses and pleas as he cried out with how good it felt, ceaselessly rutting against nothing as Gale continued to make sloppy work of his ass. Gale’s own breath was growing hotter, quicker, more full of his own desire to leave Dev a ruined mess beneath him.

“You’ll never get me on my knees,” Dev spat, the words falling from his drooling snout between his labored groans as he twitched and squirmed where he was held. He was begging him, pleading with Gale for more.

Gale couldn’t stop his deep chuckle as he left himself fully sheathed inside of him, bringing the whip down on his back again as he took what was left of the smoking cigar and held it against his waist, only pulling back out to slam back inside after getting a deep huff of the dark smoke drifting from Dev’s gorgeous scales.

Dev’s back arched against the sweet pain, crying out with a sharp moan of pleasure as he felt the deep burn penetrate through his scales.

He loved it.

With a soft bend of a finger, Gale had more silken purple ribbons snaking up Dev’s spine, neck, over his cheeks and between his hot lips.

“As if I even need to,” he quipped with a smirk, lifting a leg to rest on what Dev could only assume was some magical, invisible perch, giving himself a better angle to keep slamming himself deeper inside of him.

When he was pulled around before, there was purpose, but Gale’s magic was gentle. Now, though, his bound wrists were dragged straight to the floor as Gale motioned them to, a shocked whimper resounding from behind Dev’s shiny new gag. As his arms were pulled to be laid out before him, his chest met the cold cobbled floor.

His bindings only tightened the more he tugged at them, Gale’s smirk growing wider with each twirl of a finger, flick of his wrist, puff of Dev’s cigar. Dev struggled as a puddle of his drool began dripping down his snout from around his gag, broiling with rage as he rolled his hips harder against Gale.

He pushed harder into him than before, drinking in the way he looked with his legs shaking and ass perched up beneath him. Gale’s smile only grew the harder he went, the deeper he pushed, the longer he kept Dev all strapped down.

“Is my pup finally going to behave?” he asked, panting between each thrust as he took the whip down on his back yet again, only chuckling and teasing him further when his legs began to buckle beneath him.

“Oh,” he laughed to the rhythm of his skin smacking against his ass, “does that feel good, puppy?” he said, letting the whip strike him again when he saw him hesitate to respond.

Dev knew exactly what was expected of him and whimpered between his gag as he fought against his need to say the words. He felt himself quivering with each deep pump inside, knew his knees were buckling and his claws were digging into the cobbled floor as he fought against the pleasure he so, so desperately wanted, yet still wanted to fight away.

He grumbled incoherently as Gale continued wrecking him, the throb at the base of his cock starting to heat him up in a way that burned from the inside, ached with a pressure he knew all too well. He bucked into nothing, bit down hard against the silken gag, as Gale pushed him further and further to his breaking point.

“Come now, dearest,” punctuated by another hard crack of the whip, now leaving a studded trail in Dev’s scales in its wake amongst the burns, “be a good boy for me.”

Dev strained against himself, against the pleasure he felt building up inside him, grinding his sharp teeth against the unbreakable binding and furrowing his brows as he felt his knot starting to swell, the rough bob of his cock against his thighs as Gale thrusted into him only causing more pre to drip down his leg.

His teeth grit together as Gale had the gag vanish, taking the whip to his back one last time before it, too, seemed to float away into nothing. He leaned himself over Dev’s hips, burying every last bit of himself deep inside and rutting hard against him. He bent forward and nipped at the bruising scales, reaching his arm around him to feel for the head of his cock, needing to feel the throb of it in his palm as he took him closer to the edge.

“What do good pups say when something feels good?” he whispered between hot pants as he kept rutting his hips against him, letting his fingers ever so gently rub over his tip before trailing one down his shaft as he puffed once again on the cigar before laying it back down on a fresh set of scales.

He chuckled when he felt Dev shiver beneath him, then gripped his length hard right at the–

Gale laughed, then sighed, pumping Dev once, then twice, before releasing his grip on him and standing up behind him yet again, slowly pulling himself out before slamming his cock deep back inside. As Dev whimpered and groaned with each rough pull at his walls, Gale tutted, shaking his head as he gave his wrist another flick.

“Did my puppy go and pop a knot?” he chided, the pale blue replica of every wizard’s favorite hand caressing Dev’s thigh as Gale tightly gripped each side of his waist, pulling him back against his length as he drank in his whimpers and groans of defiance.

“You couldn't help it, could you?” he breathed, “Just feels too good, huh?” He looked at Dev with a devious grin as he was splayed out before him while he took the light back to his lips, taking a drag, and putting it out on his ass.

Dev slammed his bound hands against the stone before dragging his claws against them, whining like a bitch in heat as Gale ruined him from behind. He struggled against himself, breathing hot breaths as he cursed with words he didn’t understand and screamed out with pleasure he tried his best to deny.

“Admit it for me, love,” Gale grumbled, the mage hand slithering between Dev’s bent waist and shaking thighs as it gripped his shaft and squeezed, immediately working its way up and down his length knowing just the way he liked to be handled.

“Be a good puppy for me and tell me how good it feels to have me take control.”

His back arched further as Gale puffed the cigar again only to leave another burn, Dev’s snout digging against the stone as he cried out to the smoky room, finally having something to rut his knot into, chasing a release he so desperately needed.

Gale gripped at him harder, summoning more mage hands to take hold of either of his horns, pulling back his head to leave his snout hanging open, making sure he was able to hear all of his sweet pleading and shame-fueled denial.

Dev felt more of the cool glowing silk start wrapping its way around his neck, only to hear a soft click as it slipped into itself, a tiny bit of metal rubbing against the light as it jingled with each of Gale’s thrusts.

It was a sound and a feeling Dev knew so very well, and one that had his knot engorged and aching as he pumped himself relentlessly into the mage hand, losing himself in the sound of Gale slapping hard against his ass. The collar was a perfect fit, snug around his neck just right, perfect in his master’s vision.

“Now tell me, my good puppy boy,” Gale huffed, a mage hand stoking Dev’s cock, another fondling his balls, while two more held his horns back so Gale could hear his pleas, leaving his own free to smoke and enjoy the head rush, “what do you say?”

He punctuated his question with a hard thrust deep into Dev’s ass, gripping his hips and yanking on the soft light chord of silk string leading from Dev’s collar to his fingers, wrapping them between the light and pulling him down as hard as he could before picking up his pace again. He groaned against him, felt himself losing control as his pace quickened and seemed to grow sloppy as he saw Dev finally beginning to come undone.

Dev’s whining became soft and laden cries as he let himself go, pushing himself harder against Gale’s hips and further skewering himself upon his cock, his knot throbbing as he pushed it into the tight grip of the mage hand eagerly tending to him. His snarl had become lips twisted in the slanted look of deep pleasure, another tug on his horns matching Gale’s tug on his collar. The words he spoke to him were a lure to the part of him he was fighting so desperately against, but it seems he had lost that fight, too.

Gale shifted his weight on his invisible perch, slamming himself harder into Dev with each breath, losing his tempo but frantically trying to keep pace.

He took a short, hot breath.

“Speak, puppy,” he drooled.

Dev finally snapped.

His ass was pressed hard against Gale, his cock buried deep inside him and throbbing with each thrust. His chest was pressed flush to the floor, his toes curling behind him where either foot was still bound on either side. His legs shook as his hips bucked ceaselessly into the hot and slick illusion Gale had stroking him, while the grips on his horns and tug of his collar had his head pulled back further. He shouted his pleasure to the sex filled room, no longer able to hold himself back.

He could barely form coherent words, choking on himself as he managed to spit them out.

“Th… thank you, master,” he said, followed by a guttural moan as he threw his head back with another hard tug, his hips starting to falter as he bucked his knot faster into the mage hand’s grip.

Gale let out a deep sigh, smiling as he gave Dev’s collar another pull.

“There’s my good boy,” he breathed, groaning with each strained breath as he got closer and closer to reaching his peak, “don’t stop now, pup.”

Dev let out all of his whines, his whimpers, his tongue lolling to the side of his mouth as his drool dripped from its tip. He senselessly rode into the mage hand as he babbled his nonsense, begging and pleading and being just so good for his master as he felt him start to throb deep inside.

“It… fuck it feels so good,” he cried, gripping Gale’s length with everything he could as he felt him get close to cumming inside, “I’m such a good boy,” he pleaded, “so good for you, thank you, thank you–”

“What’s my name?” he demanded. Another hard yank on his leash as Gale gritted his teeth and groaned, his toes curling around their step as he pressed himself harder, breath heady and light between sweet puffs of the cigar as he waited for Dev to answer him before cumming.

“Master!” Dev’s deep scream was eager, desperate to please. “I’m a good boy, master,” he rambled, lost as he approached his own peak, “good… good for you… just for you…”

Gale pulled on his collar with as much strength as he could muster as he came undone inside of him, eyes rolling back in his skull as he trembled with his pleasure in finishing. Thick ropes of cum flooded Dev, a hot drop of it sliding down his shaking thighs to meet the puddle of his drool beneath them.

All the magic hands stopped their groping and fondling and stroking, ceasing in a split second as Gale finished pumping his load deep inside. Dev whined, cried, bucked into the unmoving hand wrapped tight around his knot, whimpering desperately for the release he was so cruelly denied.

Gale took one deep breath, then another, letting his cock twitch a bit before letting out a hiss between gritted teeth while pulling out. As Dev’s puppy eyes widened and brow furrowed, Gale stroked himself in time to his good boy’s whines.

He took his leg down from its perch, took a shaky step back, and smiled as he breathed out a soft moan, shaking his head. He thought for just a moment, then smirked before picking up the pace he had on his still throbbing, slick-with-his-own-spend cock, and snapping his fingers.

Before Dev could register the sound of the gentle snap, his bounds had him upright, legs tucked tight beneath him, wrists still tied together tightly but, now, at the base of his back. He blinked once, then twice, his whines growing quiet as he realized Gale was standing before him, waiting for his pup to look up at him from down on his knees.

After a moment, he did. His wide eyes were full of desire as he tilted his chin to look up at his master with the most sincere look of pleading plastered on his face.

Gale couldn’t help but to let out a moan, seeing him like this with his cock still gripped tight in the mage hand before him, knot throbbing and ready to burst at its seams, eyes wide and waiting.

“If you’re a good boy and swallow,” he breathed, “I’ll let you waste your knot and cum in that hand, hmm?” he smirked.

Dev nodded eagerly, mouth already open as he pulled against his still glowing restraints as he tried to lean forward, barely able to reach the tip of Gale’s cock with his lips as he swirled on his tip and took it in his mouth.

Gale chuckled at his willingness to serve, stepping forward and taking either of his horns between his hands and guiding him down the length of his cock, his eyes narrow slits as he took in just how perfect Dev looked on his knees, pleasuring him.

“That’s a good boy,” Gale huffed out between his moans of praise, tugging Dev along his shaft with no resistance, his horns the perfect place to steer him into taking more.

And Dev took it all with a smile broken by drool and cum, looking up at his master with wide eyes beaming with submission.

As he bobbed his head up and down his cock without a thought in his brain, his tail began to wag, eyes just barely brimming with tears as Gale pulled him down to the base, rutting into his throat and loving the way he sounded when he gagged.

“Such a good pup,” he whined, tilting his chin as he felt himself getting closer deep in Dev’s mouth, letting the mage hand start its ruthless pumping and squeezing over his knot.

Dev’s eyes got even wider, his hips bucking where they sat atop his folded legs, whining over Gale’s cock and twitching where he was held down.

“Good, good boy,” Gale mumbled, stroking his snout as he watched him squirm with how badly he wanted his master to let him cum, but knowing he’d be denied until he did as he was told and swallowed.

Gale smirk as he gasped while Dev started sucking on him with a fire he’d never seen before, eyes shut tight as he whined with all the overstimulation, the throbbing and aching and awful twitching of his cock all swollen and denied its release, knot ready to pop.

It was when he opened his eyes to look up at him, cock-drunk with his eyes all blown out and barely open in the haze of the dim light, just begging to let him cum, please, that Gale finally had himself pressed deep down his throat and came down his tongue.

And Dev was a good boy, gasping for air as he lapped up every last drop of spend, not a single bit of it wasted anywhere but deep inside him, just as he was told.

He was still strapped down on his knees, still rutting uselessly into the mage hand as it sped up its stroking around him. He whined with his mouth still full of Gale’s cock as he waited for the painful seconds to tick by while he caught his breath.

“Aww, my sweet boy,” Gale laughed, trailing a gentle finger up his snout and around his horn and down his neck as he watched Dev struggle to hold it in. He slowly took his cock from his mouth, waiting just a moment longer to revel in his broken puppy state before he finally gave him the permission he had been waiting for.

“Cum for me, puppy,” he whispered, “you’ve been good.”

Dev’s head shot back as he squeezed his eyes shut, crying out as his bindings were finally released and he pumped himself into the mage hand once before convulsing where he sat, hot spend painting the stone floor between them. He rolled his hips as he whimpered with his release, finally able to scream out for his master as he unwound on the floor before him, cum splattering on Gale’s feet.

“So… good…” he whimpered, barely able to lift his head to meet Gale’s gaze as he whined for more praise, for cumming so good for him, not even yet down from the high of his orgasm and already searching for his master.

And Gale stood above him, waiting for him to look at him like he knew he would, a gentle hand already caressing his snout as he caught his breath in the hot room.

He took the final drag of the cigar.

“Yes, puppy, you’ve been so good for me.”

They stayed there together in silence for a moment, their breaths coming back to them. Dev shook and convulsed and twitched where he was crouched on all fours on the ground, barely holding himself up as he whimpered in the pool of his own spend.

Gale swallowed hard, gasping with a moan as he watched him struggle to come back to himself. He couldn't help but to let out a short laugh before bending to a knee before him, lifting his snout with one hand and stroking his cheek with the other.

His cheeks flushed a deep red as Dev finally looked up at him again, the glistening tear stains running down his cheeks leaving an iridescent glow atop his scales.

Dev smiled weakly between another shudder and a breath, leaning his snout into Gale’s hand and pushing himself closer to his lap, grumbling a bit as he hid his face.

Gale sighed with his soft laugh, leaving a gentle kiss between the tear trails despite Dev’s groaning and protests. He could feel his shoulders heating up with the flush of embarrassment he knew so well, peppering more small kisses around his snout.

“Here, love,” he muttered, groaning as he stood up from his knees and stretched a bit before offering Dev a hand, “let’s get you cleaned up and in bed. I’ll grab you another cigar,” he chuckled, unable to keep himself from smiling as he watched Dev rub his eyes with his paws.

Dev grumbled, still averting his gaze from Gale’s caring eyes as he stumbled while trying to make it to his feet.

Gale caught him, though. He wrapped a warm arm around him and smiled, lifting his chin to give him a longer, more gentle kiss.

“You were a very good boy for me,” he chuckled between the kiss.

Dev’s flush grew hotter, redder, but he couldn’t help but to smile, too. His tail wagged with a soft rhythm as Gale rubbed a hand down his snout before leading him off to bed.

[keter-kannot]

And for an Alien prompt: Ripley 8 with a monstrous alien girldick having extremely dubiously consensual sex with Reader. Bonus points for egg-laying since said dick doubles as an ovipositor.

R A H TAKING NOTES TAKING NOTES ADDING THIS TO THE SHORT LIST OF WIPS HANG ON STAY TUNED 👀

[keter-kannot]

God, you’d get along amazingly with one of my mutes. Her name’s aeroti and she’s also into monster fucking.

Send her my way 👀 always down for new moots ♡♡♡

[keter-kannot]

But if I may ask: Would you throw yer hat into the ring of Alien? Or Ghostbusters? Mostly just for Sigourney Weaver stuff. A picture of Dana Barrett with a dick rewired my brain chemistry and now I’m hunting for others with this particular brain tadpole.

OOHHH, MY NEW MUTUAL, ALIEN IS A MONSTERFUCKER'S BREAD AND BUTTER OF C O U R S E ID THROW MY HAT IN THE ALIEN RING 😫😫😫 anything for mommy Sigourney Weaver

[keter-kannot]

What other fandoms do ya work with?

To be honest, so far I've only done a bunch of bg3 and sdv fics, I haven't been in ANY fandom spaces in like a decade lol and it's really nice to get back into it! Better question is what other fandoms would you wanna see me write for 👀

[keter-kannot]

Blood, guts, trauma; All yer good specialities. Hell, maybe involving some impregnation. Maybe a pregnancy from another love interest is forcefully ended so a new one can be started.

OOOOHHH MY NEW FRIEND YOURE C O O K I N G 😫😫😫😫😫 AYE AYE CAPTAIN BREEDING, TOO?!??!?! R A H BHAALSPAWN BREEDING KINK BHAALSPAWN BREEDIND KINK BHAALSPA--

[keter-kannot]

Orin The Red girldick rapin’ Tav/the Reader?

With some blood n guts too?? 🥹🥹 ofc ofc stay tuned I'll tag you when it's up

[keter-kannot]

Found ya on AO3. Yer shit’s fucked up I love it!

OMG THANK YEWWWWW 🥰🥹🥰🥹 lesbian torture p0rn, pet play, guro, and more 😌 this literally made my entire night lmao any suggestions or prompts?! 👀

[keter-kannot]

A proposal

Sometimes, in fandom, we just want to write id-tastic fic that rolls around in tropes that might be viewed as problematic. But we don’t want to address the problematic side of things in this particular fanwork; we just want to roll around and wallow.

It is considered courteous to give readers a heads-up via use of AO3 tags. I propose a tag that signals that a given fanwork is for rolling around, not giving a measured evaluation of anything. The MCU has carved out a space for this sort of fic with the “HYDRA Trash Party” tag, for which I commend them. Trash Party is a bit too specific to cover all of the ground I’m thinking of here, though; I propose “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.”

For those of you not familiar with Arrested Development, Michael Bluth finds a paper bag in the freezer labeled “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.” He opens the bag, finds a dead dove, and reacts as follows:

[gif of a white man saying “I don’t know what I expected” in a deadpan manner]

The “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” tag would essentially be a “what it says on the tin” metatag, indicating “you see the tropes and concepts tagged here? they are going to appear in this fic. exactly as said. there will not necessarily be any subversion, authorial commentary condemning problematic aspects, or meditation on potential harm. this fic contains dead dove. if you proceed, you should expect to encounter it.”

(more at KnowYourMeme: http://knowyourmeme.com/memes/i-dont-know-what-i-expected)