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You weren’t sure what made you wake up—maybe the way the wind shifted, the sudden stillness of the crickets outside, or the odd glow seeping in through the gaps in your wooden window shutters. You sat up, heart thumping, sheets tangled around your thighs.
There was something out there.
You padded to the door, curiosity outweighing fear. The porch light had long since flickered out, but a faint bioluminescent shimmer danced on the trees just beyond the clearing. It pulsed, almost like a heartbeat. Your breath hitched.
Then he stepped into view.
Towering. Winged. Eyes like twin blood-moons, glowing in the dark.
You didn’t run.
You didn’t scream.
Something in your body—your soul, maybe—recognized him.
He cocked his head, watching you through the screen door. His body was wrapped in soft, velvet-black fuzz, his wings twitching ever so slightly as he stepped closer. He didn't speak with words, but you felt him—his concern, his fascination.
He was here to warn you. You knew that instinctively.
But what he didn't expect… was you.
Later, you sat together inside, fire crackling gently. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and offered him tea—he didn’t drink it, but held the mug anyway, mimicking you.
He was beautiful in a way that defied logic. The curve of his shoulders, the ridged structure of his wings, the soft antennae that twitched when you moved. You noticed how his pupils dilated each time your blanket slipped a little lower on your chest.
“Do you… like what you see?” you asked quietly, voice cracking with shy boldness.
His eyes flashed. The mug trembled in his hand.
“I don’t… know.” The words sounded strange on his tongue, gravelly, like a wind chime wrapped in velvet. “You’re… not like me.”
“No,” you whispered. “But maybe that’s the point.”
It started with a touch.
He reached out, claws careful, and ran the backs of his fingers along your cheek. His hand was impossibly warm, slightly trembling.
“I’ve never… touched a female,” he admitted, voice low, reverent. “Not a human. Not… anyone. I only watch. I warn.”
You leaned into his touch, tilting your face to kiss the tip of one claw. He shuddered, wings quivering behind him.
“Then let me show you.”
He made a small noise in his throat—surprise, hunger, awe. His fingers moved to your neck, tracing the hollow there. When your blanket slipped down your chest, revealing the curve of your breasts, his breath caught.
“Soft,” he murmured. “You’re so… soft.”
You guided his hand lower, letting him explore. Every brush of his fingers across your skin was slow, deliberate. He moved like someone trying to memorize, to understand, not just touch. His claws were careful, curved just enough to trail without scraping, the pads of his fingers impossibly gentle.
“You’re warm,” he said, fascinated. “And your heart—” he pressed his palm to your chest, just over your breast, “—is fast.”
“You’re making it beat like that,” you murmured.
His wings fluttered again, brushing the floor. Pheromones filled the air—thick, sweet, heady like blooming nightflowers. They made you dizzy, your thighs clenching beneath your blanket. Your body responded to him in a way that felt primal, inevitable.
He smelled like rain and starlight and something… deep.
He dipped his head to your neck and inhaled.
“You… smell like wanting,” he murmured.
“Then take what you want,” you whispered, pulling him in.
He loomed over you, muscles taut beneath soft black fur, his chest rising and falling in an unfamiliar rhythm. His glowing eyes flickered across your body, from the curve of your hips to the slick heat between your thighs, mesmerized. His hand hovered there, trembling, claws sheathed to avoid hurting you.
“I want to… touch. But I don’t want to… damage.”
“You won’t,” you breathed, guiding his hand. “I want you to learn.”
He growled—soft, low, almost a purr—and followed your lead.
His fingers explored you slowly, reverently, dipping into your folds with careful pressure. The pads of his fingertips were surprisingly soft, textured just enough to tease the sensitive skin. You gasped, arching into him, and he paused.
“That sound… I like that.”
You gave a shaky laugh. “Then keep going.”
He obeyed, growing bolder. One long finger slid inside you—tentative at first, then deeper, curling when your breath hitched. He watched your reactions like he was studying something sacred.
“So wet… is this normal?”
“For you?” you exhaled. “Yes.”
His wings flared slightly, the edges glowing faintly as arousal surged through his body. His head dipped again, antennae brushing your inner thighs—ticklish, electric.
He pressed his tongue against you.
Your back arched as a hot, velvety stripe traced your clit. His tongue was unlike anything you’d felt before—broad, flexible, textured with tiny, silken ridges that caught every nerve ending just right. He moved slowly at first, savoring your taste, groaning deep in his chest.
“You taste… alive. Like lightning.”
Your fingers tangled in his thick black hair, pulling him closer as you trembled beneath him. He seemed thrilled by the way your hips bucked, each gasp pulling him deeper into instinct.
He flicked his tongue in quick, rhythmic patterns, and when your thighs began to tremble, he slid a second finger inside you, curling with unholy precision.
“Don’t stop—” you whimpered, hips grinding against his face.
He didn’t. Not until you were writhing, mouth slack in a silent scream, coming hard around his fingers as the world blurred with light and scent and his low, hungry purring against your core.
He pulled back slowly, licking your release from his lips, blinking like he was high on stardust.
“That… was because of me.”
“All because of you,” you whispered, dragging him up by the fur at his shoulders. “But I want to feel you inside me now.”
His cock had emerged fully now—long, ridged, thick at the base and tapering with a slight upward curve, faintly glowing with bioluminescent veins. It pulsed, leaking a clear fluid that smelled sweet, heady, not unlike the pheromones clouding the room.
“I’ve never…” he whispered, voice shaking. “This is the part that makes a bond?”
“Yes,” you said, wrapping your legs around his waist. “But it’s also the part that feels so fucking good. Let me show you.”
You guided him to your entrance, and he shuddered as his tip brushed your slick folds.
“You’re so hot,” he groaned. “So tight… is it safe? I don’t want to break you.”
You smiled, curling your fingers around his cheek. “You’re perfect. Just go slow.”
He pushed in carefully, inch by thick, pulsing inch. The stretch was intense—he was big, and the unfamiliar ridges dragged deliciously along your inner walls—but the way he watched your face, the way he held himself back, trembling with restraint, made it all the more intoxicating.
Once fully seated inside you, he paused, chest heaving.
“You feel like… a heartbeat around me,” he murmured, awed.
“You can move,” you gasped, clenching around him. “Please.”
He pulled back, then thrust slowly, deeply. His rhythm was hesitant at first, but your moans urged him on, and soon his hips found a steady, rolling pace that had you clawing at his back, eyes fluttering shut with each thrust.
The friction was divine. His cock dragged over every sensitive spot with purpose, and those glowing ridges rubbed your walls just right, sending sparks through your body.
His wings flared out behind him, glowing brighter now—pale blue, violet, streaks of gold blooming along the edges with each moan you gave him.
“I want to go deeper,” he growled, voice raw.
“Then take me,” you begged.
He groaned, low and guttural, and snapped his hips forward with more force. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the cabin, the wet slide of your bodies obscene and perfect. He gripped your thighs, spreading you wider, watching the way you took him—eyes dilated, antennae twitching wildly.
“You’re—you’re mine,” he rasped. “I can feel it. You’re… changing.”
“Y-yeah?” you gasped, your second orgasm crashing over you in a blinding wave. “I want to be yours. Fuck—don’t stop!”
That broke him.
He rutted into you harder, almost frantic now, his release building. His cock swelled inside you, throbbing, the bioluminescence intensifying until the whole room glowed with it. Your body was limp, trembling, legs hooked tight around him as you whispered his name—if it even was a name—over and over again.
He let out a ragged, primal cry as he came, hips driving deep and holding you there, flooded with warmth as thick spurts filled you. You could feel it pulse inside, feel his body quaking above you as he emptied himself.
And then—still knotted deep inside you—he collapsed, wings curling around you protectively, his breath ragged against your throat.
“I don’t… want this to end,” he whispered. “I don’t want to go back to just watching.”
Meet Joseph who joined my spooky month oc crew, he is based off my nation which is Native American/Zuni/Shiwi so he is a full bloodied native, he majorly talks in his native language so anyone who talks to him often needs Eric (who is his translator) to translate the words for em so he is a non English speaker (Eric, Nina, Mike and Michael are the only people who can understand Joseph)
He is also an shapeshifter based on native american spiritual culture which is the Wechuge spirit (btw wendigo and wechuge often get mixed up so don't feel bad if you get confused of which is which!) but he has good control of it and can change whenever
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Invited mutuals to play a dash game with me where I randomized a list of my OCs and made friends with their OCs! Let's goooo!
@eidolonshiva drew Stash (he/they) from Overwatch, and Tomu hasn't been getting much attention lately so I indulged him. (SORRY TOMU..... Fumiko is my wife, I love her so). Stash loves stray cats, karaoke singing, and drinking. But he has a high tolerance. Needs more tequila before they can admit to keeping whimsy and silly in their heart. They're also a shallow gay, so Tomu can get away with so much bullshit, especially if he's indulging their alcoholic tendencies.
@veilody drew Jericho (he/him), my Monster Hunter World lancer! He's nearly seven fuckin' feet tall and soft-spoken until it's feasting time. Then he's boistrous and full of belly laughter. And BOY can this guy EAT. Just wait till he starts talking about his favorite monster, the Poalumu. He has a weak point for cute things, ADORES his Palico companion (basically his daughter), and has a secret sketchbook where he does candid doodles of monsters. Ostuyu will have her hands full with this huge guy and his huge Dad energy.
@mandarinasart drew Gambit (he/she/they/it)! Welcome to Point Pleasant, Sameko, where you can probably find strawberry milk at the Piggly Wiggly's. Gambit will show her around his hometown gladly! They love nature and the town is small enough that they can bike most anywhere-- even through patches of wilderness. He'll tell Sameko what plants are native, what to avoid, and eagerly encourage her curiosity in the world around her. Though notably, Gambit deliberately ignores a certain museum dedicated a winged cryptid. She has mixed feelings on Mothman, given it is her alter ego. He does his best to help others, but it is not quite a 'superhero' pastime. Especially not with how popular media has depicted it... (very Dandadan vibes). Most tourists are on thin ice with Gambit, but Sameko seems cool enough!
Last but not least, @gnoll-king drew Hikaru (he/him), a MHA OC! Hikaru lives such a quiet and cautious life, but every once in a while, you wanna get edgy and cringy and dangerous. He doesn't own a piano-- sold all his furniture to turn his apartment into a body part greenhouse with his quirk, Flesh Garden. But he still remembers how to play. These hands can do more than grow illicit organs for the black market. Gnoll can lay low as long as he needs, provided he brings some fresh soil or plant food with every visit... and disguises himself. You never know who has Hikaru under surveillance.
How Luan got his name. // nsfw // MDNI // scratching // breeding // cockwarming // no proof read // word count: 0.8k
“You like the moon?” you ask softly, pointing towards the glowing orb that casts a pale light, making the cold night air shimmer.
The creature beside you lets out a soft chirp, a high-pitched sound that seems to tell agreement.
You hum, taking in his ethereal form- tall, dark, and lean with sleek fur. His eyes, wide and the deepest shade of ruby, reflect the moonlight. He’s gorgeous.
“You’re kind of like the moon, ya know,” you murmur, your gaze trailing over him. “Lunar, dark, quiet… breathtaking.”
A shuddering breath escapes your lips as he steps closer, the heat radiating from his body enveloping you despite the chill in the air. He lowers his head so that it's above yours, warmth seeping into your skin.
He traces his clawed fingers along the curve of your neck to your cheek, it tickles making you giggle. Turning to face him fully, you rise on tiptoe and nuzzle into the soft, downy fur of his neck.
“You always feel so nice. You’re always so… magnificent.” You let out a quiet laugh. “just like the-.”
A sudden thought brightens your eyes. “Luna! That should be your name.”
He tilts his head, a deep, rumbling whine vibrating through his chest. He glances between you and the moon, a silent request for something that feels sincere.
“Okay, okay,” you soothe, rubbing your thumb gently against his cheek. “Something more personal, more… you.”
——
The next morning, you immerse yourself in your small, beloved library, pouring over historical texts and old-time lore. Mythology and folklore have always been a passion of yours. Page after page, book after book, until you stumble upon the literature “Luan Zhi”- beautiful, virtuous wings… also referred to the moon.
“Perfect!” you exclaim, feeling a rush of excitement. This name would suit him perfectly. You can’t wait to share it with him!
——
That evening, you find him perched in his usual spot. Your fingers brush over his wings, marveling at the blend of black and white fuzz that feels softer than silk.
“I found a name for you,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. He’s already watching you, those dark ruby eyes gleaming with curiosity.
He lets out a soft, encouraging chirp, urging you to continue. You can see the anticipation flicker in his gaze.
“Luan,” you say with a smile. “Wings of the moon… my Luan.”
His eyes widen, sparkling like diamonds as he absorbs the meaning. In one fluid motion, he pulls you against him, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. His hold is tight, desperate, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.
A deep, resonant purr emanates from his chest as he breathes you in, his mind clouded with need. He’s intoxicated by the warmth of your scent, memories of being inside you flaring up with an almost painful intensity. His claws sink into your sides, drawing a soft yelp from your lips.
Luan pauses, concern flitting across his face as he checks if you’re unharmed. You nod, fingers threading through the thick fur at his nape. Your cheeks burn with arousal, a slick heat pooling between your thighs.
“Luan,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “I crave you…”
His length, already hardening, presses insistently against you. Without hesitation, you peel away the fabric that separates your bodies, baring yourself to him. His fur spikes with arousal as he takes in the sight, his claws gently tracing over your wet folds, drawing out soft whimpers from your lips.
You’re grinding desperately against his touch, soaking his fingers with your slick. It’s too much for both of you; your desire has reached a high. With a trembling hand, you grasp his thick, curved shaft, guiding the pointed tip to your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto him, the stretch of his girth drawing a moan from deep in your throat.
His claws dig into your hips, pulling you down onto his lap as he ruts up into you, the force making you gasp. Your chests are pressed flush together, your nails tangling in the plush fur at his neck. His thrusts are urgent, each one driving you higher, closer to the edge.
“I’m going to come- oh, gods, please, Luan, come inside me!” Your words are muffled against his fur as you clench around him, your climax crashing over you in a wave of bliss. He groans, a guttural sound, as he spills deep within you, his grip never wavering, holding you in place to fill you completely.
Breathless, you collapse against him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I love you, Luan,” you murmur softly, glazed eyes fluttering shut. His arms remain wrapped around you, keeping his softening length buried in you, possessive and gentle, as if he could keep you safe from the world forever.
And in this moment, in the quiet of the night beneath the watchful glow of the moon, you know he will never let you go.
A/N: Welp that’s Luan idk what else to do for him… anyways likes, reblogs, comments appreciated ᖭི༏ᖫྀ
