Me: Um...what is this?
My muse: What the hell does it look like? It's a smutty werewolf Draco one shot.
Me: But...we're already writing a full length fic with werewolf Draco, one with an actual plot and shit.
Muse: But this one is only a PARTIAL werewolf Draco fic. Totally different!
Me: It's really not-
Muse: Listen bitch, this is what we're writing this month, and that's THAT. It's going to be a while before we get to the smut in our other fic, and I want werewolf Draco smut NOW to tide me over in the meantime! Now quit complaining and get typing while I shake up this can of whipped cream.
Me: Oh god, no-
Muse: YES. I'm feeling like I want to get DIRTY with this one-
Me: *whispers* So sorry everyone-
On the night of the full moon, Draco finally lets his wolf loose...good thing Hermione's there to play with him. Contains minor breeding kink and graphic depictions of C U M
The last rays of the sun warmed Hermione's skin as she stood outside the basement door, fidgeting. "Draco?" she called hesitantly.
A brief shuffling from below was her only answer.
She sighed and looked towards the window, where the light was swiftly fading. In less than an hour, the full moon would be upon them. Were this a normal month, Hermione would be casting wards to keep her husband confined to the basement till morning. Though Draco was only a partial werewolf and thus didn't transform, the full moon still affected him; the wolf beneath took control, causing heightened aggression and loss of cognitive reasoning.
But this night was different. Tonight…Hermione was going to let him – the wolf – take her.
As husband and wife, sex of course, was quite frequent between them. But since being bitten two years ago, Draco had never once allowed himself near her on the full moon. After his initial turning, where his mind had been buried by the pain and rabid magic twisting and changing him, and he'd accidentally attacked her in the haze, he didn't trust himself one bit.
Hermione absently stroked the scar on her shoulder and knocked again. "Draco? Darling, please…it's almost time. Talk to me?"
Something crashed to the floor down below, followed by a series of swears.
The witch rubbed her forehead. Her husband was nervous…scared, even. All week, Draco had been wrought with tension, going back and forth on his decision to go through with this.
But Hermione was done letting him fear himself. She wanted this, she wanted him, every part of him.
And she…they…wanted what would come after. Desperately.
For three years now, they'd been trying to have a child. They'd been wed for six, enjoyed having each other to themselves and focusing on their careers for a good while, but now, they were ready to expand their little family.
The first year of trying had been hindered upon discovering Hermione had scar damage on her uterus, leftover from various war injuries, that made conception difficult and risky. Luckily, with the aid of muggle doctors, Hermione was able to undergo surgery to repair the damage, making it safe for her to carry babies.
But then, Draco had been bitten on an auror mission, and their dreams of children came to a stuttering halt.
At first, they hadn't understood why they weren't conceiving. Then, with research, testing, and the advice of Bill Weasley, who suffered from a milder form of lycanthropy, they came to the conclusion that Draco's condition made him infertile except on the night of the full moon.
This wrenching realization strained their relationship for a time. But the stubborn couple persisted, amongst the many nights of frustration, arguments, and tears, they refused to give up and let themselves be done in by disappointment and the looming taunt of a broken dream.
Once the initial storm passed and they were finally able to talk about it without dissolving into useless shouting, Hermione began the process of coaxing Draco into considering sex during the full moon.
Then came more discussions with Bill and Fleur, who'd managed to have a child despite the oldest Weasley's lycanthropy. Despite multiple reassurances that as long as his wolf recognized Hermione as its mate, it would do no harm to her, Draco remained skeptical and uncertain. Each month, Hermione would broach the subject, ask her husband if he felt ready to try, and each month, Draco would give the same answer:
"Not yet. Perhaps the next one."
This went on and on, until finally, the former Slytherin caved –
But not before implementing a slew of precautions.
The basement stairs creaked, alerting Hermione to the approach of her husband. Then came a light thump against the door – probably Draco's forehead – but it did not open.
"Hermione-" The wizard's voice was hoarse and strained with uncertainty. "-Have you got the sleeping powder I gave you?"
The former Gryffindor rolled her eyes. "Yes, Draco. It's upstairs on my nightstand. Where it's been for the past two days."
"Your wand as well?"
"Well, I am a witch, aren't I?"
"And you swear you'll use them it if you have to?" Draco pressed.
"Yes, love. I already promised I would, didn't I?" Hermione reassured, trying very hard to mask the annoyance from her voice.
There was a beat of silence. "And you're absolutely s-"
"Draco Malfoy, if you ask me if I'm sure about this one more time, I'll clobber you!"
An exasperated groan came from behind the door. "Well forgive me for trying to protect my infuriating, stubborn wife!"
A collage of comebacks rose to the front of her mind, mostly regarding how she didn't require his protection nor did she think he would hurt her, but Hermione ultimately just sighed and pressed her cheek to the door. The week leading up to the full moon always put Draco in a mood, and they'd been together long enough know for her to know when his barbs served as a cover up for his fear and insecurity. She didn't want to argue with him now, not when they were so close to this pivotal night they'd simultaneously anticipated and dreaded for ages.
"I believe in you, you know," Hermione murmured. "I'm not afraid. I'm ready for this."
Draco didn't reply, but she could practically feel him leaning heavier against the door.
"Whatever happens," she continued, a lump forming in her throat. "We'll be okay. We have other options. I'll never resent you for something out of your control. You know that, right?"
A quiet grunt of acknowledgment was her reply, followed by several long moments of silence. Then-
"…Hermione?"
"Yes?"
More silence.
"I…it's nothing. I just-" A shaky exhale. "-I love you."
Lip trembling, Hermione resented the stupid slab of wood separating them, wanting nothing more than to throw the door open and hold her husband tight. But he needed this time to mentally prepare himself, so she held back.
"I love you too," the witch whispered. With great strength, she managed to pry herself away from the door. "The sun's nearly gone. I'm heading upstairs now."
She faintly heard Draco mutter, "Okay…I'll meet you there."
Wiping away a stray tear, Hermione caressed the door as though it were her husband's face, then made her retreat.
Their bedroom had already been prepared for the evening; all the valuables were safely put away, the floo had been locked, and fresh sheets dressed the bed. Burying her own nerves, the witch stripped off every scrap of clothing. Then, she reached for her own precautionary measure, one she'd not informed Draco of.
The lust potion was a light pink, syrupy mixture that smelled nauseatingly sweet with a hidden undertone of spice that promised a visceral reaction.
Hermione toyed with the bottle uncertainly for a moment, debating whether or not she'd need it. The suggestion had come from Fleur, who had no qualms about describing in painstaking detail just how eager Bill could get during full moons.
"There is basically no refractory period," Hermione recalled her saying. "The wolf's stamina is immaculate! The first time Bill and I came together on the full moon, it was as though he would never get enough! Why, I could hardly keep up with him, even with my Veela blood. I admit, I needed to recover the next day, but…it was one of the greatest nights of my life."
Hermione squeezed her thighs together. She'd always thought she had a healthy libido, but if Fleur's warnings weren't exaggerated, then it would be no match for the wolf's bottomless hunger.
"Since it will be the first time Draco has let the wolf out to play, I suspect he will be especially ravenous. A nice swig from a potent lust potion should help. If you feel yourself getting tired or sore sometime during the night, drink a little more, it will give your body a second wind. And don't forget the snacks! Draco will be fine, but you could easily get dehydrated from all the sweating and calorie-burning. Again, it will be your first time on the full moon, so expect the wolf to want to go all night long. Best to be prepared!"
The phrase all night long echoed in Hermione's head, struggling to wrap around the idea of twelve whole hours of nothing but sex. Surely it wouldn't be constant, right? The wolf would have to allow her breaks, otherwise she wouldn't last beyond a few hours, even with the lust potion.
Blowing out a long breath, the witch uncorked the potion bottle. She wasn't afraid of her husband, nor the creature in his head. Hermione knew she could handle them both; she wasn't Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for nothing.
That said…it would be nice if she could draw some genuine enjoyment from this experience, rather than just view it as a necessary means to an end.
With that, Hermione took a careful sip of the potion, recalling the seller's warnings about its potency and suggestions to take only minimal doses at a time. The thick, sweet liquid went down smoothly, warming and lingering inside her throat as she swallowed.
The effect was immediate; heat pooled in her lower belly, her nipples tingled and her clit pulsed, thighs growing slick. Hermione sighed, brushing her fingertips along her sensitized skin. Her head felt just slightly fuzzy, as it normally did after a glass of good wine. Overall, she felt rather nice, her arousal potent, but not to the point of driving her wild with need. Which was good, as the witch would need some semblance of a clear head tonight to ensure nothing went awry.
Not a moment too soon had the witch taken the potion, when a startling BANG echoed through the house.
Hermione swallowed, excitement, anticipation, and nervousness swirling about.
Draco was out.
Footsteps creaked up the stairs and pounded down the hallway, followed by the door being swung open so hard, it smacked into the wall rather harshly.
A distant part of Hermione's brain noted that she'd have to fix whatever dent that left.
The rest of her attention was fully on her husband. Physically, Draco was unchanged, the only notable difference being his eyes; almost glowing in the soft light of their bedroom, pupils fully blown and intense as he stared her down.
Resisting the urge to squirm, Hermione gave a hesitant smile. "Hi, love."
Draco twitched almost unnoticeably. Then, in two quick strides, he was in front of her. Before the witch could even think of reacting, his hands were grasping at her arm and the back of her neck as he tugged her into his body. Hermione inhaled sharply, but stood utterly still as Draco – the wolf – pressed his nose to the curve of her throat. He huffed against her skin, causing the witch to once again recall her conversation with Fleur:
"He'll need to scent you. It's how the wolf recognizes its mate. If he accepts you, which he will, then he'll-"
Hermione bit her lip when Draco's tongue swiped over her skin, his body shuddering against her. His long fingers weaved their way into her hair, and she gasped when he yanked her head to the side. Again, the witch remained still, displaying her neck to him in a show of submission. Plus, the roughness was a bit of a turn on…
Draco's chest rumbled approvingly as he mouthed at her throat. "Mine…" When his teeth sunk into the juncture between her neck and jaw, Hermione shivered.
"And of course, there's the biting," came Fleur's voice. "He will want to bite you quite a lot. Normally, werewolves bestow permanent marks on their chosen ones, much like us Veela do, but partial werewolves like Draco and my Bill cannot give mating bites. It is…how you say…compensation, yes?"
Sure enough, Draco began nipping and sucking his way down her throat, no doubt leaving behind a litany of marks that Hermione would have to spell away the next morning. The wizard wrapped his arms fully around her then, as though trying to pull her into her own body. She couldn't help but nudge her hips against his, noticing he was already hard as steel. Her cunt fluttered longingly, and Hermione felt a drizzle of arousal run down her thigh.
Draco's nostrils flared, no doubt able to smell it. He growled, then Hermione yelped as he lifted her into his arms, legs going automatically around his waist. Barely a moment later, her body hit the bed so hard that she sprung back up a bit. She would have giggled if not for the way Draco was currently looking at her as though he planned to devour her alive.
Hermione licked her lips and rubbed her thighs together, making his gaze darken. Were this a normal night, she may reach up and forcefully pull him down to join her, or tug his pants off before taking his cock in her mouth. But this was not a normal night, and this wasn't only Draco before her, but his wolf as well. And whether she liked it or not, she was not the one in control tonight. But that was okay.
Instead of taking action, Hermione spread her legs and looked up at him pleadingly. "Draco…please?"
Strangely, his gaze lingered on her pussy for only a moment, conflict flickering across his features. The witch frowned, but before she could ask what was wrong, a cacophony of ripping noises interrupted her thoughts. Draco tossed his ruined clothes to the side then climbed atop her; but rather than nestle himself between her legs, spread wide in invitation, he continued on until he was essentially straddling her chest.
Hermione blinked rapidly, looking up at him in confusion as he caressed the old scar on her shoulder. An expression that was almost tender crossed his face for a brief moment. Then, his brow furrowed with a growl as he squeezed her tits together and slid his cock between them.
Hermione gasped as Draco snapped his hips forward, the tip of his cock bumping her chin, unable to do anything but lay there as her husband fucked her breasts.
For all their exploration over the years, this was one thing they hadn't tried before, and Hermione wondered how Draco would feel about it come morning.
She hadn't even known her breasts were large enough to properly use in such a way…
Nevertheless, her husband was grunting in pleasure, so she assumed they were adequate.
Hermione was rather puzzled at his actions of choice – she'd been positive he'd immediately fuck and fill her with a child – but she had to admit, there was something about being used in such an unorthodox and even mildly degrading manner that was making her moan along with him, even though she was receiving no traditional pleasure from this position.
Tilting her chin down, the witch opened her mouth to catch the tip of Draco's cock, making him groan louder and double his efforts.
"Fuck…"
His voice was lower, more gravely than usual, the sound of it sending shivers down Hermione's spine.
"Draco," she breathed.
His eyes snapped down to her just before his body tensed atop her, and a bark of rapture tore from his throat. "Mine!"
The witch gasped as he spilled himself over her face and chest, his cum running down her neck and shoulders, likely dripping onto the sheets.
She held back a cringe when she realized it was probably in her hair too…
Without missing a beat, Draco inched down her body and, looking at his mess almost scrutinizingly, reached down to rub his seed into her skin, smearing it across her breasts, throat, and collarbone.
Amongst the absent thought that she would need a very thorough shower come morning, Hermione realized that the wolf was still scenting her. Thank Merlin Bill was the only other lycanthrope they knew, otherwise she'd die of embarrassment knowing others could smell exactly what had happened this full moon.
Her thoughts were thrown out of the water when Draco's gentle massages suddenly turned rough; he grasped her nipple and gave it a cruel tug, her breast lifting off her body.
"Ah!" Hermione cried, back arching.
Chest rumbling with approval, the wizard ducked down to capture the sensitive peak with his teeth, clamping down hard enough to bruise. The witch writhed beneath her husband, the potion making everything more sensitive. When Draco drew back, he left teeth marks behind on her areola.
Needing his attention elsewhere, Hermione whined and rubbed her thighs together, desperate for relief. "Draco…Draco, please?"
The wolf's dark eyes flickered up to her, then, with a low growl, he manhandled her further up the bed and pried her legs apart. Hermione whimpered as he spread her lower lips, her clit practically throbbing with need as he just stared at her cunt for an odd amount of time. Then, Draco jerkily reached up to gather some more of his seed that had pooled between her breasts. She bit her lip as he rubbed it over her pussy, then gasped when he spat directly onto her clit. It was filthy, messy, all kinds of obscene, and yet –
Fuck, she was soaked.
"Oh god!" Hermione nearly squealed when he engulfed her with his mouth. Draco groaned as he tasted her, mumbling incomprehensible gibberish into her cunt as he ate her out. "Ah – oh! Draco, that's – fuck! Fuck, I can't, fuck!"
Her husband was ruthless, tongue lashing against her over sensitized clit without mercy. Hermione tried to squirm away, the sensation almost too much to bear, but Draco held her hips in a vice grip. She slapped her hands over her mouth in attempt to muffle the downright lewd noises flying from her lips as her husband continued his assault on her quim. And with how hard she came just a few moments later, Hermione couldn't in good conscience call it anything but an assault.
"Oh…oh gods," the witch stammered as she caught her breath.
The Slytherin gave one last long lick from her pussy to her breasts, briefly meeting her mouth in a sloppy kiss before sitting up, eyes molten with desire.
His expression made her stomach twist as though she were at the top of a hill on a rollercoaster, about to take the plunge. Hermione could only imagine how she must look right now; skin littered with bite marks, covered in her husband's cum, expression glazed and body relaxed from her recent orgasm, yet still needing more.
Draco's cock gave a twitch as he stared at her, drawing her stunned attention to it.
Holy-
Had he even gone soft!?
Before the Gryffindor could contemplate anymore on this, she suddenly found herself being flipped onto her stomach like a boneless ragdoll. Her husband's bruising grip found her hips as he forced her up onto her knees. Hermione trembled, cunt clenching with anticipation; she needed him to fill her, needed to be stuffed to the brink until his seed was dripping out of her-
She was all but mangling her lower lip, waiting for the thrust, so she was surprised when she instead felt a gentle hand sliding along her back. Draco pressed the tips of his fingers into every divot along her spine, caressing the span of tense muscle until he reached the back of her neck, continuing up to thread his digits into her hair.
Hermione whimpered, his sweet caresses making her heart melt; but her painfully empty womb demanded more.
"Please…" she whispered.
Without warning, the tender touches turned vicious, and she cried out when her wizard yanked her head back by her hair. Draco's breath was hot as he leaned forward until his lips brushed her ear. "Please what?" he growled.
Fuck me, Hermione intended to say.
Please fuck me hard, is what she would have said on any other night.
However, when she opened her mouth to beg, what came out was: "Please fill me! Give me a baby, Draco, please! I want a baby, I want your baby!"
Perhaps, when this was over and her mind was no longer clouded by a potion nor the excitement of finally getting pregnant after years of trying, Hermione would be mortified at the words that just flew from her mouth. But right now, in this moment, it seemed that was the perfect thing to say.
Draco stuttered something unintelligible in her ear before slamming into her with a desperate groan. Hermione gave a breathless, punched-out noise, hands scrambling for purchase on the sheets as he gave her no time to adjust before ramming his cock into her again and again. The strangling pleasure bordered on painful, and all the witch could do was whimper and gasp as her husband fucked her harder than he ever had.
"Mine," Draco panted above her. "Mine, mine, mine-"
That, she knew, was the wolf talking, not the man.
Hermione could easily recall her husband always rolling his eyes and making snide comments about the men in movies or the occasional romantic/erotic novel whenever they nastily and aggressively declared, "Mine!" at the female love interest.
"Like a stupid caveman," Draco would remark. "Or an immature little child hogging their favorite toy. This is supposed to a love story? Women really find THAT attractive? It's bloody abuse, it what that is."
Hermione would laugh and agree before reminding him that those types of unrealistic love stories were aimed toward teen girls who'd yet to learn any better, and middle aged women who were bored with their lives and looking for some good ol' toxic, shitty alpha males to spice it up a bit.
Hermione would undoubtedly tease her husband later for replicating the very behavior he always criticized and made fun of, but for now, her brain was quite too busy getting the sense fucked out of it to comment.
Grunting, Draco stood up on one knee behind her, the angle allowing him to pound into her even deeper than before.
Hermione's eyes rolled back in her head, mouth hanging open from the intensity. The constant, merciless impact of his cock against her cervix sent her over the edge again, leaving her to sob into the pillow as the climax tore through her.
Draco didn't slow as he placed a hand on her lower belly, his grunt and moans growing harsher and more erratic. "Mine!" he repeated. "My – my mate…my wife…my baby! Gonna put my baby here-"
Hermione actually did cry then, the combination of hormones, stress, and relief of finally conceiving, finally having a child to call their own, too overwhelming for words. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "Give it to me, Draco! Come inside me, give me our child-"
Draco came with a strangled gasp, his seed flooding her womb. Hermione's chest heaved as she panted, her lower body tingling with a preview of the soreness she was sure to feel tomorrow. When she tried to prop herself up on her arms, a hand came between her shoulder blades to hold her down.
"D-Draco?"
Craning her neck around, the witch found her husband staring down where they were joined with a glazed expression. When her pussy fluttered with sensitivity, Draco groaned loudly and, to Hermione's shock, started thrusting again.
Granted, he was much gentler this time around, but her swollen, over sensitized walls felt every single vein in the slow slide of his cock. Air evacuated her lungs as she clawed at the sheets, unable to do anything but whimper and gasp as he somehow came a third time barely two minutes after his last orgasm.
Fleur was not kidding about that nonexistent refractory period, apparently.
Thankfully, Draco pulled out this time, his erection having somewhat flagged for the moment; but then he thought it necessary to catch the rivulets of cum escaping Hermione's overfilled quim and shove them back in with his fingers.
At this point, Hermione was so sensitive that so much as a breath against her core would be too much, so she reached out a trembling arm to desperately grab at her husband's wrist.
"N-No more," she breathed. "Please, Draco, no more for now. That hurts. Please stop."
Draco stared at her blankly for a moment, as though she'd spoken to him in a foreign language. But then, his expression softened, and he obediently withdrew his fingers.
The witch sighed in relief and slumped onto the bed. She felt the mattress dip beside her followed by a nose pressing into her neck. Hermione giggled tiredly as he nuzzled her, resembling more of a cat in that moment rather than the wolf that lived inside him.
A wolf that was completely insatiable, judging by the half-hard length currently pressing against her hip.
The witch Accio'd one of the water bottles she'd left on the nightstand as she carefully sat up. Draco followed her movement, unwilling to release her even as she awkwardly maneuvered around him.
And this was only the beginning of the night.
"You're going to be the death of me," Hermione muttered as she sipped her water.
The wolf merely looked up at her innocently from his spot in her lap.
The rest of the night went by in a blur. Hermione dozed a few times, but never for long, and was always awoken by Draco's tongue on her pussy or his cock pushing into her. She had to take a second, then third dose of the lust potion to keep from succumbing to her exhaustion. They didn't have anymore incidents, her husband now able to tell when she was getting too tired and needed a break. He'd sit by her side or cuddle up to her while Hermione took sips of water or nibbled on crackers and granola, waiting eagerly until she was ready to go again.
Other than that, it was just fucking. A lot of fucking.
Draco fucked her hard with her head hanging off the bed. He fucked her soft on the floor with her hips in the air and her feet dangling next to her head. He fucked her on the bathroom counter after she briefly disappeared to relieve herself.
They fucked the night away, and he came inside her so much that it coated her arse and the backs of her thighs. If they somehow didn't conceive a child after all that, then some deity was just taking the piss out of them.
It wasn't until the moon disappeared and the first pale rays of light came in through the window that the wolf finally retreated, and Draco and Hermione both passed out at once, wrought with exhaustion and satiated beyond measure.
The sun was high in the sky by the time Hermione trudged her way back to consciousness. For a moment, she simply lay there in content, enjoying the relaxed heaviness in her bones and the knowledge that she had nowhere to rush off to. Then, the realization that it may have finally worked, that she could be pregnant right now made elation grow in her chest, and she excitedly sat up-
Only to hiss at the acute pain in her nether regions and slump back down.
Ah, there was that soreness she'd been expecting. "Ow," Hermione deadpanned.
As though materializing out of thin air, Draco's face came into view. She blinked up at him blearily as he held out a bottle to her. "Pain potion," he said softly.
Mumbling her gratitude, the witch happily gulped it down, sighing when the aches eased. Draco sat down on the bed, caressing her ankle soothingly. "So…" he began uncertainly.
Hermione smiled. "So," she repeated.
The Slytherin raked his gaze up and down her form, taking in the physical evidence of their night of debauchery. "How are you?" he asked tentatively.
The witch sighed, stretching out with a great yawn. "Tired. Sore. But...good. Really good, actually. I'll have to remember to send Fleur a gift basket."
At this, Draco cracked a smile. "This is actually the first time the morning after a full moon I haven't felt off at all, or completely like shit. Who knew the key to conquering lycanthropy was just constant shagging?"
Hermione huffed a laugh. "Yes, but now I'm absolutely famished."
"I was rather hungry myself when I got up. I had Mitty make me steak and eggs."
She hummed. "Sounds wonderful. I think I'll have the same." She frowned when moving brought attention to her itchy skin, still painted with last night's activities. "After I've had a shower, though. Or ten."
Draco's ears turned red as he rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah…sorry about that."
The Gryffindor shrugged. "Do you remember last night very well? I know your memories on the full moon can get muddled…"
"Actually," her husband said thoughtfully. "I remember everything pretty well." Here, he smirked. "You certainly came a lot."
Hermione arched a brow. "Says the man who was basically hard throughout the entire night! How have you not passed out, honestly?"
He chuckled and shrugged as though to say, "I can't help how great I am!"
Smiling, the witch sat up and scootched towards her husband to wrap him in a hug. "You did well," she murmured. "I knew it would be alright."
Draco's eyes misted, but he cleared his throat and kissed her as though nothing was wrong.
Hermione kissed him back tenderly, feeling every ounce of his relief and joy against her lips. When his large hand came to rest on her stomach, they both looked down hopefully.
"Do you think…?" the witch whispered.
Draco swallowed and summoned his wand. "Do you want me to…?"
For a moment, she hesitated, months of crushing disappointment and frusrtation because of that accursed white glow flashing in her memory. But putting it off wouldn't change the outcome anyhow.
"Do it," Hermione muttered, trying and failing to keep her voice from trembling.
Draco cupped her face and prompted her to look at him, his mixed expression of fear and tentative hope matching hers. He pressed his forehead to hers briefly, wordlessly, and it was all she could do to keep her lip from trembling.
"Okay," her husband whispered.
The tip of his wand was laid against her belly, then the charm exited his lips in a single breath.
When the room glowed a bright blue, Draco and Hermione finally allowed their tears to fall, their room filling with joyful cries.
Quick end note, the whole breeding kink is actually not MY thing, not really. I'm aware that writing a fic like this likely garners a certain reputation and assumptions about me, but however I may come across, believe me when I say that I am by no means into every single kink and fetish out there. I do obviously lean towards including my actual favorite kinks when I write smut, but I also want to branch out and experiment with stuff I don't personally enjoy *cough get off to cough* and no writer ever improved by staying in their comfort zone.
That said, I would greatly appreciate any feedback, especially from those who actually like said kinks, as I want to do them justice, but when it's something I'm not really into myself, it can be difficult to judge how well I've executed them.
As always, thanks for reading, and I'll see you all next time, my beautiful fellow pervs. 3