#demon pregnancy

[hush-writes-preg]

Spooky Season Day #6: An Unholy Tome

Your father had always warned you of the danger of reading, but you'd never taken him seriously until this very day.

You're the young monarch of a small kingdom deep within the mountains. You'd been married to a king over a decade your senior as a way to solidify political alliances, and while your relationship was cordial, it'd never been particularly warm. The king seemed to hold little interest in members of your gender, but he still came to your bed like clockwork with the clinical intent to sire an heir. You endured it, because what other choice did you have? He had staff to cater to all of your whims and was never unkind, so you could have done much worse.

But still, you couldn't help but feel... neglected. You had needs, even if you didn't fully understand them, and no one with which to explore or satisfy them.

At least, not until you found the book.

Tucked in among your wedding gifts had been a slim volume wrapped in gilded leather, filled with strange things. You couldn't read the text, but the illustrations-- oh, those illustrations. Fantastic creatures of every size and shape were drawn in exquisite detail, not a single aspect missing the artist's trained eye.

It felt scandalous to gape at the familiar yet still alien shapes of their genitalia, but no matter how many times you slammed the book shut in mortification and hid it away, you always dug the tome back out. You always returned to a select handful of the pages, wondering why they made you feel so warm. If only you had someone to ask-- but as the king's foreign consort, you didn't have anyone you could trust with such an intimate query.

Then the dreams began.

And you quickly came to realize what that strange heat meant.

The monsters invaded your dreams like the fabled barbarians of the plains, swift and brutal. They chased you like a wolf hunting a rabbit, harrying your nude form through endless torch-lit corridors and toying with you until you could run no more. But instead of tearing out your throat, they flipped you onto your hands and knees. The horrible realization of what they intended crashed over you and choked off your cries of terror, leaving you frozen and trembling.

One of them mounted you like a beast on the hard stone floor. Thick shafts, tentacles, and appendages you couldn't even name flowed over your body with possessive intent, enveloping and fondling you in ways you'd never been touched before. Terror began to fuse with other things you couldn't name, similar to what you'd felt when gazing at that filthy book: heat, hunger, and a baffling emptiness between your thighs. Even while claws scraped over your skin, you wanted... you wanted...

"Accept us," a discordant voice rose from nowhere, countless voices layered over one another and ringing in your ears. Something nudged purposefully against your hole, teasing you with a taste of what your tormenter offered without truly entering you. Something hot and wet stroked its way down your neck until it curled around a nipple, plucking at the hardening nub until you whimpered. "Your body pleases us. Welcome us in, and we will overwhelm you with the kind of pleasure you'll never receive from your own kind."

You choked on a sob, your hips jerking instinctively back to meet the promised intrusion even as you shook your head. This wasn't right. You're married, and you had undeniable responsibilities to your husband and kingdom. Not to mention the fact that this thing at your back wasn't even human--

The shaft kissing your hole pulsed and began to vibrate, the sensation making your eyes roll back in your head.

"This is only a dream, little human," the voice taunted, its appendages winding even more closely around you. "There's no harm in indulging in a simple fantasy, is there?"  There was a hint of menace behind the voices, sure, but it only seemed to stoke the flames in your belly even higher as your willpower began to melt away. "All you have to do is let us in."

Your hole clenched around nothing, eager to suck in anything that would fill it. You'd never felt like this before, and you didn't know how to handle the sensations crashing over you. How could such horrifying monsters make your body burn so hot?

What am I accepting?

Do I even care?

With a moan, you hesitantly spread your thighs in silent permission to the creature.

"Accept. Us."

"Yes," you whimpered, dropping your face to the floor in shameful submission. "Enter me. Ease this ache inside of me before I go mad, please!"

The beast's savage roar of victory nearly made you empty your bladder, but the sudden thrust of something impossibly hard and thick into your aching body immediately drove the fear away. The hulking creature wasted no time in fucking your soft, pampered body into the flagstone floor with all of the abandon of a wild animal. All you could do was hang on and take it. And when it finally finished inside of you, the sudden surge of wet heat painting your insides sent you tumbling over the edge of your very first orgasm.

Oh gods. Oh gods. This dream... sex couldn't possibly feel so good, could it? Pleasure that wiped your mind and left you feeling like you'd transcended to another plane of existence?

Sweaty, dazed, and leaking fluids from your freshly-fucked hole, all you could do was watch as the next creature moved to take its place at your back. Something cooler and more flexible slid into your sloppy hole this time, knobby protrusions along the length catching on the rim before popping inside. And how many more beasts waited along the edges of your vision for their turn?

Oh.

As the bumped shaft started to find its own rough rhythm, you deliriously found yourself hoping that this dream would never end.

It's been over seven months since your first experience with the dreams, and as promised, they fill your nights with untold pleasure. But there's been an unexpected complication.

You've fallen pregnant.

Your husband's kingdom is ecstatic with the news of the coming heir, his family embracing you with more kindness and attention than they ever have before. Your spouse is pleased, though he stopped bedding you the moment your condition became known.

Not that you mind. His disinterested late-night fumbling bores you; you'd much rather drift off to sleep and find satisfaction in the coils and claws of your imaginary lovers.

But as your pregnancy progresses, you can't help but wonder what has spawned in your womb. It seems foolish to imagine that the father could possibly be anyone but your husband, right? In reality, you've only ever entertained the king's attentions. The monsters aren't real. They haven't actually filled you with their seed, no matter how often they've left you sore and bloated from the sheer volume they've poured into you during your fantasies. You can't have been bred by figments of your imagination.

Yet still you find yourself plagued by apprehension. Your belly grows with unexpected speed, filling out into a taut sphere that hangs heavily from your frame. Your mother-in-law is sure this means you carry more than one child and begins taking every opportunity she can to rub your abdomen. This embarrasses you, but you don't feel like you can tell her no.

The midwife isn't as sure; she cautions your in-laws that you could just be carrying large for your first pregnancy. You can tell that she is puzzled by how quickly you've grown, since she's been attending you since your wedding in hopes of helping you conceive. At least you get along well, and she seems to be genuinely on your side. The last thing you need is someone suspecting you of trying to cuckold the king.

Because as much as logic dictates that such thoughts are foolishness, you still struggle against disquiet.

Maybe it is borne of guilt for being unfaithful to your husband, at least in your mind.

Maybe it has to do with the obvious pleasure that the dream-creatures take in fucking your gravid royal form.

Or maybe it is because of the way your belly sometimes moves, writhing and shifting like a bag full of eels. The baby's just active, right? It's not like you could possibly be carrying the offspring of some unnatural monster in your womb.

Of course not.

(A Spooky Season story.)

#hush writes preg #spooky season pregnancy #monster fucking #monsterfucker #monster kink #monster breeding #demon breeding #demon pregnancy #trans pregnancy #tpreg #male pregnancy #mpreg #nb pregnancy #ftm pregnancy #mtf pregnancy #queer pregnancy #fantasy pregnancy #royalty breeding #royalty kink #monster pregnancy #nonhuman pregnancy

[spontaneous-birther]

The head is coming out.....its so big it has my pussy stretched to the ground....fuck its soooo painful and its only just begining to peak out. I hope I dont tare.

#pregblr #preggo kink #rapid pregnancy #pregnancy roleplay #birth kink #fake pregnancy #pregnancy #roleplay #demon pregnancy

[alkali1]

Cultist volunteers her womb to summon a demon into the world. The other members worship her and serve her every need during the 666 day gestation. It starts out already huge enough to leave her digustingly swollen and bedridden, but it ends up being over twice as big as her by the time she can finally unseal her womb and birth it. After days of struggling and pushing she's only managed to deliver its clawed hands. Even the stretching magic used on her body just isn't powerful enough. The summoners have no choice but to tie the demon's hands with rope, shackle her wrists, and pull in opposite directions until her horribly overstretched cunt finally manages to squeeze the hulking demon out.

#hyperpreg #overdue pregnancy #birth #pregnancy fiction #birth fiction #demon pregnancy #demon birth

[plumpedxprincess]

make a deal with a demon to have children and she impregnates you with six babies at once wyd

#multiples pregnancy #demon pregnancy #pregnancy kink #pregnancy #pregnant #pregblr #my.txt #fpreg

[hush-writes-stuffing]

Got this ask over on my pregnancy blog, hush-writes-preg, but it seemed more suited for this one. So I'm gonna post the ask here instead.

You'd taken great care to prepare your summoning circle, determined to remain in control and force the demon to do your bidding.  You wanted power, a link to the infernal, but without the risk of losing yourself in the process.

Unfortunately, you bit off a little more than you could chew.

Instead of summoning a lesser demon, a greater demon appeared in your circle and quickly made you its bitch.  Rather than demanding that it share its power with you, you keened and ground yourself down on its massive cock like a shameless harlot, your eyes rolling back in your head when the first few spurts of unholy seed spurted into your womb.  You'd lain on the floor like a cream-filled pastry afterward, your swollen stomach sluggishly leaking fluids out onto the floor from your savage fucking, and the demon had laughed at the sight you made. 

'You'll get what you wanted,' it sneered, leaning over you with its burning eyes.  'But on my terms.'

And your power did increase, to be sure, allowing you to cast spells that you'd never even dreamed of before.  But with it came a hunger unlike anything you'd ever known.  You tried to tell yourself that you were just compensating for the raw power you expended, but as time passed and your waistline continued to expand, you knew that there had to be something more.  Something diabolical.  But without knowing the demon's name or nature, you couldn't be sure.

Months passed.  The holidays loomed on the horizon.  You'd recently realized that you'd gotten pregnant, though you couldn't be sure who the father was since you'd been with several lovers.  But you don't even consider the idea that the demon could possibly be the father, for that would only lead to questions you were afraid to answer.

Halloween came, and you found yourself going through bags of candy at a time.  Thanksgiving rolled around with its plentiful bounty, and you did your best to brush off your family's disbelieving comments about your pregnancy as you dug into your fifth heaping plate of turkey and stuffing.  By the time Christmas arrived, your stomach clamored for food around the clock, and you ordered a family meal for eight to be delivered to your house from the local supermarket because you'd grown too large and ungainly to cook or fetch it yourself.  

As others set off fireworks to celebrate the New Year, you sat in your kitchen at a table piled high with food, gorging yourself with nearly anything you could grab.  Your body, once slim and well-toned, had now grown incredibly soft and corpulent, while your near-term belly hung almost obscenely distended from your middle.  Movement could be seen just under the skin as your demonic spawn wriggled and squirmed, but you barely paid it any mind. 

All thoughts of gaining power had fled in the face of your obsessive need to eat, and all you could think about was the next thing to stuff into your mouth. 

You had no idea that the demon of gluttony watched you in great amusement, pleased to see its offspring growing so well within your ever-expanding body.  It would only be a matter of days before you'd bring its spawn into the world, and you had to be well-fed to give it healthy children, after all.

(A Spooky Season response.)

#hush answers #halloween pregnancy #monster breeding #hush writes preg #hush writes stuffing #demonic pregnancy #demon pregnancy #demonic breeding #demon breeding #stuffing kink #belly expansion

[pregubus]

Has my seed taken root, my queen?

With how much you pumped into me? That's an understatement 😈

*since you last set eyes on me, my belly has swollen outwards with squirming offspring. If I was a human, my belly could easily be mistaken for that of someone at term with twins. My belly isn't the only thing to have changed. My horns have grown larger and more prominent, it'd be hard to not notice them as they curve from my forehead. My breasts are still relatively petite compared to the rest with me but there's no doubt that they'll be getting more full*

#demon pregnancy #pregnancy fantasy #pregnant rp #pregnant kink #pregnant roleplay #breeding k1nk #fantasy pregnancy #impreg rp #pretend pregnant #roleplay #Rebis Answers #Transformation

[annoyingbananafreakfarm]

Commission I did for a discord friend

#sketch art #sketch #preg art #heavily pregnant #pregnant art #fpreg #demon pregnancy #monster pregnancy #commission #art commisions #big tiddy committee

[0rbularb0ys]

Life With Levael: First Date

Took a bit longer than I wanted it to, but here’s the next chapter! Once again, a special thanks to @sacred-dragonair/ @brushbrulee on twitter for being my beta reader!

Ever since Renyr had asked him out on a date, Levael had been anxiously waiting for the moment he would see the dark elf again. He’d agonized over what clothes he would wear, whether or not he should use any perfumes, if it would be appropriate to bring flowers on a first date, and more. Mother and Father had told him to always put his best foot forward after all, but he didn’t want to come on too strong. He’d just have to try and act casual and wing it.

Looking at his reflection in the cafe’s window, Levael saw a mortal staring back at him, and he sighed. He felt bad lying about his demon nature, but what other option did he really have? Mortals didn’t much care for demons, to say the least. The war between demons and… well, everyone else may have been millennia upon millennia upon millennia ago, but in all that time the demons were living apart from mortals for their own safety. Down in the seven spheres of the underworld, right where the angels trapped them, they kept to themselves even after they discovered a way to reach the world of mortals. No one had ever asked for the demons’ side of the story. Not when the angels had already written the history books. So demonkind was largely condemned to being the villains of history, and if Levael was to live in the mortal world then he had no choice but to hide his true nature.

And yet, even if Levael had no choice in the matter, he felt bad about lying. It’s hardly the foundation of a healthy relationship after all. Maybe Renyr would understand once it was explained to him. He would have to cross his fingers on that one.

“Hey!” Called a voice, and Levael whipped his head about to see his date hurrying down the sidewalk and up to him. “Sorry, bus had to take a detour.” Renyr asked, breathing heavier than usual. “Were you waiting long?”

Unaware of just how long he had been waiting, Levael checked his wristwatch. The dark elven man had only arrived a bit under ten minutes after their agreed upon meeting time, but in his excitement for their date the disguised demon had arrived about twenty minutes early. “Oh no, not long.” Levael said, smiling to his date. 

Smiling, Renyr held out his arm for Levael to hold, which the demon did with a smile and a blush. “Get whatever you want, I’m insisting on paying.” He said as the pair joined the line of customers.

“Oh no, that’s not-”

“I insist.” Renyr’s voice was friendly, but firm enough to make clear that this was non-negotiable. 

“Well, if you’re going to insist so strongly, I suppose it would be rude to refuse.” The pregnant demon relented.

After getting their drinks, the two men took a seat by the window. The people of the city were coming and going just on the other side of the glass as they sipped their tea and coffee.

 “So,” Renyr said, putting his coffee cup down, “You said you worked nights yesterday. What do you do for a living?”

“I work as a singer at this uptown lounge, Velours Rouge.” Levael said. He was careful in the way he handled his tea, very particular and proper. Centuries of etiquette lessons from his parents had deeply ingrained the habit into him, and he had to consciously tell himself to behave more casually. 

“Sounds swanky.” Renyr said with a low whistle. “Swanky and expensive.”

“Oh yes. It’s the sort of place you don’t really visit unless you have money or you’re looking to impress someone.”

“Hopefully ‘swanky’ means ‘pays well’.”

“Mmm, I make enough to live comfortably. I’m not swimming in money, and I certainly can’t afford any sports cars. But my apartment is nice, I have money to buy what I need and give myself some treats, and my bank account is healthy.”

“I see that’s not the only healthy thing.” The dark elf smiled, looking at the shifting of the infants in his date’s womb. “What about the money you make from surrogacy?”

Levael gulped. Of course he would ask that. Obviously he couldn’t say that he was a demon built for breeding, so what explanation would work? “Not a lot, truth be told. I work privately, and my clients are typically those who can’t afford to go through an agency. They’re very expensive, you know.”

“So you do it almost as a charity?”

“I’ve never really thought of it that way. I suppose you could say so, but I’ve always just believed that everyone should get a chance to have a family. Well, if they’re suitable for the role, that is. But some people have trouble conceiving, and they don’t have the money that large agencies would ask of them. So that’s where I come in.”

Nodding, Renyr sipped his coffee. “That’s very generous of you. Pregnancy’s a lot to go through, and for not much money? Damn.” He placed his cup down and looked again at the other man’s visibly shifting belly. “So, how far along are you?”

Oh crap. 

For as often as Levael was asked this question, he was never sure what the answer should be. Mortals gestate their children for so much less time than demons, what number should he give to not raise any suspicion? He certainly couldn’t tell him the truth.

Thank you for asking, potential boyfriend. I’m currently nine months pregnant and I have approximately six months left. After that I have to go out and get pregnant again so I can help my race survive.

Yeah, there was no way THAT wouldn’t raise questions.

He would just have to rely on his old fallback non-answer and hope Renyr would be too polite to ask for further details. “I have a hereditary condition which lengthens the duration of my pregnancies, and induction doesn’t work on me. I would prefer not to talk about it.”

Renyr’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask anything too personal.” He said quickly, desperately trying to avoid the blowback of whatever landmine he’d stepped on. The sincerity of his apology was evident on his face and in his eyes.

He didn’t need to be tortured over thinking he made some horrible mistake, so Levael shook his head and offered a smile. “It’s fine. Goodness knows I get asked this question too much to be offended by it anymore. But enough about me,” He said, placing his teacup on his belly and leaning back in his seat, caressing his bump, “tell me about you. What do you do for work?”

It took a second for Renyr to register the question, his eyes lingering on his date’s tummy. “Hm? Oh!” He snapped out of his trance and refocused on Levael, clearing his throat. “I work as a freelance graphic designer. I’ve been doing it since college, which means about a century and a half or so. I’m no millionaire or anything, but I live comfortably and I like to think that I’m fairly well-known in the industry by this point. At least here in Bohemia. That’s what I like to tell myself.”

“Trying to live off your art, huh?”

With a deep sigh, the sort that suggested this subject had been an issue for a while, Renyr nodded. “Yep. Nobody’s noticed my original stuff yet, so this’ll have to do.”

“How does someone get noticed in the world of art anyway?”

The elven man made a noise of frustration in the back of his throat. “For the most part? Have enough money to aim the spotlight on your work. Or have a name that’s already known beforehand. Or hire someone else to make it for you.” He grumbled, running his fingers through his hair. “Me, I can only rent out space at the gallery.”

“I knew that the gallery gave space to local artists, but what’s the process of your work being on display?”

“Easy. Talk to one of the curators, and you tell them what it is you want to put on display. The price is different based on what it is, like paintings are cheaper than statues, smaller statues are cheaper than larger statues, and so on. You figure out how much it’d cost for you to keep your piece up in the gallery for however many days, you pay, and boom. Your art’s on display for the amount of days you paid for.”

“I see. I hope their prices are at least reasonable, if people buying their recognition is truly a problem."

"It's fair, I'd say." Renyr looked into his coffee cup and smiled. "The gallery's actually pretty cool for smaller artists. They've got a ton of spaces in the back that you can rent out to work on your stuff. Painting, sculpting, making really weird and elaborate pieces, they'll let you make whatever once you're there. And if you can't finish your piece in one session, they'll hang onto it until you come back at no extra cost."

"So you rent out a space for a week and your work stays there waiting for you?

Renyr shook his head. "No, you typically rent by the hour. I'll usually rent for about four or five hours, for instance. Then when my time's up, they clean up after me and it's someone else's turn. You can pay for extra time, but renting for a week? You'd need some serious cash to do that."

Levael nodded, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. "I see. It sounds like they really care about giving lesser known artists a chance to shine." 

"Yeah." Renyr took a sip of his coffee and looked at his date with a smile. "Okay, back to you. Where are you from?"

Hoping to stall for time, Levael took a few drawn-out sips of his tea. Getting-to-know-you type questions were the worst. As usual, he’d have to fall back on old lies. “My family moved around a lot. I’ve lived in so many places, I don’t think I can say I’m really from anywhere.”

“I get that. Which place would you say was most important, though? Or which one did you enjoy living in the most?”

Well shit, Levael thought to himself. What now? “Oh, it was so long ago, I can barely even remember.” He said with a laugh he dearly hoped didn’t sound forced. “It was this little town in the far north with the sort of name you’d never be able to pronounce and could never hope to spell on your own. I’ve certainly forgotten, anyway. I really only remember it because I always loved watching the northern lights, or the Light River, as the giants call it.”

“I’ve always wanted to see the northern lights.” Renyr said, smiling at the image of lights across the sky. “I’m from the Undercity myself, so as you can imagine the sky is kind of a big deal for me.”

“Yes, the Undercity is the home of dark elves, isn’t it? What’s it like?” Levael asked as he removed his cup of tea from his belly and leaned leaning forward, resting his chin in his hands.

Judging by Renyr’s frown, however, he wasn’t as interested in the topic as his date. “You know, I never liked the term ‘dark elf’. It makes it sound like surface elves are the norm and we’re the aberration.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” Levael said, moving to place his hand on Renyr’s forearm before thinking better of it, “I wasn’t aware that was a touchy subject.”

Renyr just sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly unsure what to say. “I mean, I think it might just be a me thing? I dunno. Whatever, it’s fine. You’re hardly the first person to refer to us that way.” He took a deep breath and slumped back in his seat. “So, the Undercity. When I was growing up, we were still sealed underground, right? Thanks to the surface elves,” He grumbled, “And we didn’t have any of… of this.” He said, gesturing around the cafe, gesturing to the city on the other side of their window. “No electricity, no fresh air, no indoor plumbing… Basically just imagine how cavemen lived and you’ve got a pretty accurate idea.”

“Oh dear. But that’s not the case anymore, right? I mean, it’s been almost two centuries since the Undercity was unsealed.”

Renyr pursed his lips and shook his head. “But that’s not very long at all for an elf. Imagine living for centuries knowing only the underground. No sky, no sunshine or starlight. Just darkness, cold stone, and stagnant air. All you know of what’s above ground is that there are elves who are like you but different and they have it better, and their ancestors are the reason you’re stuck underground because your ancestors wanted to avoid conflict with orcs. And you only know that because you heard it from your grandparents, who only know it because they heard it from their grandparents, stretching back to who knows how long.”

“Then one day, everything opens up. After a life of never seeing the sun aside from the occasional crack in the cave ceiling and having every reason to think you never will, it’s suddenly just there. And not only that, but there’s also more people than just those surface elves and orcs your grandparents told you about. There’s dwarves, giants, vampires, werewolves, faeries, all of them speaking languages you can’t understand. And as if that wasn’t enough, it turns out that while you and yours were painting on walls and fighting off cave monsters and trying to grow food in a place with no sunlight, they were all developing electricity, automobiles, the radio, the television, freakin’ airplanes.”

The disguised demon was listening with rapt attention, fascinated to learn how the dark elves live. “That sounds like a lot to take in all at once.”

“It was. It still is. And that’s why it’s taking so long for us to catch up to the rest of the world.”

“Because they’re scared.”

“Exactly. I guess the dwarves see something of themselves in us, what with how we both come from underground, because they’ve been helping renovate the Undercity to catch up with the modern world. Been quite a while since I’ve been back there, but I understand we have plumbing now. They’re taking it slow, giving everyone time to adjust. But that’s just another way of saying it’s going to be a good long while until we’ve caught up with everyone else.”

“I see. Maybe I’ll visit at some point.”

“Ehh, I wouldn’t really recommend it.”

“Because it’s so low-tech?”

“No, because you’re too tall for the cave ceilings.” Renyr said with a charming, lopsided grin.

Levael chuckled despite how lame the joke was. “That was terrible.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

The disguised demon snorted and laughed a little harder, but was interrupted when he felt a sharp kick inside his womb. With a small yelp, his hands flew to his belly, rubbing the spot he’d been attacked. “Excuse you, we’re having a conversation here.” He said to his swollen middle. “If my laughter is bothering you, then I’m afraid you’ll just have to suck it up.” Patting his belly, he looked up and caught Renyr looking rather intently at his belly, his eyes betraying fascination with a hunger simmering just beneath the surface. Levael felt himself beginning to blush at the attention he was prompting from his date. “Would you like to feel?”

Renyr snapped his head up and looked at Levael, his eyes a touch wider than the elven man probably would have preferred. “Uh, yeah sure!” He placed his hands on his date’s belly, his touch gentle. Softly, as though going out of his way not to inconvenience the pregnant man, he rubbed the bump offered to him. “It’s soft, but firm too.” 

“Pregnant bellies tend to be like that.” Levael said with a small giggle. 

A sudden kick made Renyr jump and pull his hands away in surprise. “Whoa! Did you feel that? I mean, you must have since it’s your belly they’re in, but still! They’re strong little guys.” He said, replacing his hands on his date’s belly and gently patting the spot where the kick had been aimed.

“Yeah… I’m proud of them.” Levael cooed, stroking the underside of his bump.

The two men stayed that way for a time, with Renyr rubbing and patting the pregnant tummy before him and Levael enjoying the attention. The demon was blushing slightly as he watched the other man’s fascination with his swollen womb and trying desperately to shoo away thoughts of having his belly rubbed while they were both shirtless. 

I can’t think like that, this is only our first date!

Eventually, Renyr managed to pull his attention away from the magnificent belly in front of him to look at the clock. "Oh hell, is that the time already?" He groaned, clearly not wanting the date to end just yet. "Sorry Levi, I gotta get going. I've got a work meeting in a little bit and I need to go home and get ready." Reluctantly, he pulled his hands away from Levael’s pregnant swell, leaving the disguised demon quietly wishing he could follow his date and continue receiving belly pats and rubs.

"Ah, it's fine. This was hardly going to be an all day affair, after all.” Levael said with a reassuring wave of his hand. On the inside, though, he was a bit disappointed that their date had to end already. The clock said it had been a couple of hours, but it felt like time had gone by much faster than that. Still, he didn’t want to make Renyr feel bad when the matter was out of his control, so he put on a smile instead. “I had fun today.”

Renyr returned Levael’s smile, reaching into his pocket as he did. “I did too. Here, let me just…” He snatched a napkin and quickly wrote something on it, passing it to his date with a wink that sent a shiver down the demon’s spine and to the tip of his tail, causing it to spasm as it was wrapped around his leg, hidden down the leg of his pants. Looking at the napkin, he saw that Renyr had given him his phone number. Levael felt himself begin to heat up as his heart raced, further riling up the little ones inside of him.

Be still, my kicking babies.

“Could I borrow that pen for a second?” Levael asked, one hand desperately gripping his chair to try and keep himself centered. Renyr nodded and handed him the pen. Levael quickly grabbed a napkin and scribbled his own number on it, then passed it back to his date. “You’ll have to excuse my handwriting. I don’t think anyone writes well on a napkin.” He said with a small, nervous laugh, trying to ignore how his voice had cracked at the last second. 

“You’re pretty cute, you know that?” Renyr asked.

At this, Levael became so flustered that he almost completely lost the ability to speak, only just managing to squeak out a small “Thank you.”

The elven man picked up his coffee cup along with Levael’s teacup. “I’ll take care of these on my way out. I’ll call you!” He said over his shoulder as he walked away, leaving behind a flustered and frozen demon in disguise. 

When Levael finally, FINALLY snapped out of his stupor, the biggest, dumbest smile crossed his face as he snatched up the napkin Renyr had written his number on. Holding it like some kind of precious treasure, he went as fast as he could (or as fast as the bus would drive) back to his apartment, at which point he jumped onto his bed, clutched his pillow, and began squealing with excitement like a giddy teenage girl. He kept looking back at the napkin as if trying to reaffirm that he wasn’t dreaming, and he really had gotten the phone number of a cute guy. Every time he saw the number again, he’d start shrieking into his pillow with delight all over again. His heart was fluttering away, and it felt as though there was an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach. That or the babies were kicking again, but he couldn’t care less. The rest of the world melted away and the pregnant man was alone. Suddenly he was an infatuated teenager all over again, on the phone with his bestie and squealing with delight over fantasies of being asked to prom by his crush. Though instead of prom, it was being asked out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. The sort with candles setting the mood, musicians providing a romantic ambiance, Renyr in a dapper suit and Levael dressed in a beautiful gown, all eyes in the building on the most beautiful couple as they took their seats…

It was a while before Levael was able to calm himself down, excited as he was. He just couldn’t stop thinking about Renyr. Thinking back on what he had been told about the gallery, he realized that he had no idea how long it had been since he’d last sat down and painted something. Suddenly he began to miss the feeling of brush against canvas and the satisfaction of transforming something blank and empty into something colorful and beautiful. He missed the pride he felt in knowing he had given shape to something only he could dream up. Ever since he’d gotten a job as a lounge singer, his creative pursuits had become limited to music (and knitting, but that was beside the point). Levael loved singing and playing instruments just fine, but he had put aside visual art for too long. Then and there, Levael made a promise to himself that he would visit the gallery and finally paint.

#mpreg #mpreg stories #life with levael #my stories #mpreg kink #pregnancy story #demon pregnancy #male pregnancy #demon #dark elf #stories

[goatbloatarts]

so, i realized i forgot to post this here but i made a new oc! Dont got a name for em yet, but what is known is that they did a whoopsie daisy and got himself knocked up with a demon and be forced to forever carry the brood. (made this like 2 days before my pc died)

anyway here is a drawing i made after my pc died bc my brain urged me to draw SOMETHING before i got to replace my dead laptop, i really dont like drawing traditionally except for random doodles in class but oh well

#furry art #anthro art #art #fat belly #furry belly #artwork #furry preg #pregnancy art #pregnant art #tummy #mpreg #mpreg art #mpreg belly #mpreg kink #mpregnancy #demon pregnancy #permapreg

[spontaneous-birther]

I think im starting to crown....I can feel the head stretching me....I think this is going to be a big demon baby.....uggghhhh it hurts so bad!

#pregblr #preggo kink #rapid pregnancy #pregnancy roleplay #birth kink #fake pregnancy #pregnancy #roleplay #demon pregnancy

[gravidwithlore]

Thinking about pregnancy in religion, but instead of being viewed as shameful, pregnancy is celebrated, revered, and considered holy in itself.

Priests who physically take on their parish's sins and wicked thoughts, their mass and confessions include them being bent over the altar and bred by the worshippers. Their prayers come out as moans of pleasure and rapture, the rhythm of their hymns staccato-ed by the rhythm of hips roughly slapping against each other. When the priest starts to grow round with child they are celebrated, the child considered holy and pure, a redemption of their sins, the village spiritually cleansed through the time the priest and holy vessel has spent gestating their baby. When a priest gives birth to multiples their parish is considered to be even more blessed with each additional child brought into the world. One knows a good and holy priest when they see one surrounded by a gaggle of children, possibly with a toddler on their hip or a babe feeding at their chest, and already unmistakably pregnant again already.

Or priests who protect the people from demons, but exorcisms don't involve dispelling away the demons presence entirely. They use themselves as bait for the demons instead, to distract them from innocent or wayward villagers.

One way they could do this is by utilizing their holy symbol, carved and hallowed for this very purpose, which allows them to draw the demons essence into themselves. But because of their training and holy power, this manifests as a pregnancy. The priest will be a holy vessel to purify and redeem the unholy force within, to eventually be born cleansed and new. The length of the pregnancy depends on how powerful the demon was, low power baser demons take a few months, but extremely powerful demons could possibly take years and years. The families who have experienced exorcisms this way often adopt the child born and raise it as a sign of their own devotion to their religion and gratefulness to their priest.

Or if you want to get down and dirty about it, the priests distract any demons found torturing their parishioners by spreading their own legs and compelling the demons to let out their frustrations and rage on them instead. Taking on the burden of being the demons plaything, being used to it's satisfaction during its time on the mortal plane, and often left waddling through their pews with the demons spawn. The people of the village recognize and deeply appreciate their priests sacrifice, and the community come together to support them in whichever way they may need. Even if what they need is obviously influenced by the unholy essence within (which is to say what they need is often to get fucked 25/8)

Paladins who worship and fight for deities of fertility and growth, birth and prosperity, life and bounty. When they have done great deeds on behalf of those they worship, they are often given the blessing of a belly steadily growing round with their demi-god offspring. Sometimes these paladins take it as a sign to retire and raise their new family somewhere safe, their active duty over though they continue their loyal and steadfast worship of their diety. Some continue to adventure, a bit more carefully then before with the little ones tagging along as they travel, the children always letting off a faint holy essence from the strong protective magic both parents weave about them. A paladin of these deities who have large families, are surrounded at all times by children of all ages, are respected as legendary paladins indeed.

A paladin of these deities who has been serving for years and has never been blessed in this way by their deity are often considered suspicious, and rumors swirl that they have forsaken their oath a long long time ago, if they even took it seriously to begin with.

Pregnancy out of wedlock, not a source of shame and impurity, but instead considered a blessing of a union. Some stricter sects won't even allow a betrothal unless a couple has already conceived and at least one of them is clearly growing round with child. It is so normalized and expected that when romantics think of a traditional wedding, they picture themselves waddling down the aisle, full of their beloved's child. Their lover watching them with unconcealed pride and affection, their vows reiterating their commitment to cherishing and growing their new family. The strictest sects sometimes won't even allow the wedding to commence until they're clearly in labor, only allowed to struggle and groan down the aisle once they're in active labor. Spreading their legs and screaming their child (or children) into the world on the altar, held and encouraged by their soon to be spouse. The cries of the couples firstborn ringing through the church halls holds greater weight than any spoken vow.

A temple of monks hidden deep in the mountains, their acolytes training culminates in embarking on a pilgrimage. These new monks are tasked to give their bodies to whoever may desire it, to bring people joy and pleasure no matter how briefly it lasts, to be subservient and pliant to those they serve on their journey. Some pilgrimages take longer than others, but they almost always return waddling, heavy with child and out of breath from the trek through the steep mountain path, but with beaming and satisfied smiles, confident in their beliefs and teachings in way they hadn't been when they left. Its not even uncommon for a monk returning from pilgrimage to come back holding a curious young child's hand, a toddler secured with soft cloth to their back or front, their belly already gravid and low, obviously on the verge of giving birth where they stand. These monks are considered to have found extra enlightenment on their journey and are heralded back as among the wisest of their number.

Crusaders who travel, not to conquer a land, but to connect cultures and create bonds between lands. Instead of meeting head on in a gritty battlefield, meetings are held in much more comfortable places filled with soft pillows and silks. Instead of the sharp sound of swords clanging against each other, or the metallic sound of armor and shields moving; cries of pleasure and the wet slapping of hips permeate the air. A crusader who comes home with a distinct gravid waddle are celebrated, but the most revered and successful crusaders are the ones that never return, but instead send letters home about their new home and gush about how they're almost due with multiples, but are already excited for their new spouse to knock them up all over again so they can continue to grow their new family.

The head of a religious order, considered to be the closest to their deity over anyone else, always being tasked to carry and bear their deity's offspring. When a new leader is chosen or elected, the final ritual of ushering in their new era is always a consummation of the renewed commitment to being they worship. The leader cannot make any serious changing or sweeping reforms until it has been confirmed by the council that their belly is beginning to round out with child, until then all their decisions need to be council approved. The proof of their divine leadership takes time to grow, divine beings are practically immortal, so it makes sense their offspring take a long time to grow. Symptoms such as morning sickness, cravings, and mood swings are closely analyzed to predict the future of their reign. Their libido however is analyzed as a litmus test to how close their relationship is to their deity. Only their deity may enter them in the same way they did so consummate their new relationship, but it is rare for their deity to make an appearance, so the leader must make do with their worshippers tongues and fingers. Those with especially high libido have been known to use statues and other instruments used in divine worship to fuck themselves senseless, panting from the exhertion of worship, eyes rolled back to the heavens, singing their garbled praises to the deity that blessed their body with it's heavy holy offspring.

#tw religion #mpreg #my ramblings #nbpreg #fpreg #pregnant priest #pregnancy kink #tw priest #demon pregnancy #fantasy preg

[wurm-nsfw]

Having a high pain tolerance seems fun and all until you can't recognize that you're about to give birth to a demon

#he's fine #the baby's fine #now we wait for round two #tmpreg #labor kink #cw mpreg #cw blood #demon pregnancy #monster pregnancy #horror pregnancy

[pregubus]

Rebis! I volunteer my seed for your womb! I pledge to help take care of you as your belly swells with our young! All I ask for is the honor of watching you give birth!

Oh by satan thank you 😫

*my lack of strength is evident as I approach you with a sultry strut. It wouldn't be a shock to assume I was just a normal human with how my tiny horns are so easily covered by my hair.*

So how do you want to do this 😘

#demon pregnancy #pregnancy fantasy #pregnant roleplay #pregnant rp #fantasy pregnancy

[sapphicbump]

Melga for SolarhillVill#! She's the demon that lives outside the village, only rarely visiting to get food (only time she wears clothes). She's usually not hostile but refuses cooperation often, only talking to fem presenting people occasionally. ____________ Find thousands of more pics on my 🟠 P★treon! I’m most active on 🐦Twitter.

#melga #demon pregnancy #solarhill

[0rbularb0ys]

Life With Levael: The Fair Folk

Special thanks once again to @sacred-dragonair / @brushbrulee on twitter!

The Cosmopolitan Gallery of Contemporary Art once again welcomed Levael through its doors. It was far less crowded today than it had been two days ago, but then it was a Monday morning. Hopefully this meant that there would be a space for a walk-in to rent out one of the artist’s spaces in the back. As he walked up to the front desk, Levael took a moment to savor the quiet, the only sound the clicking of his heels against the floor as he adjusted the bag hanging off his shoulder. As he walked, he pulled his shirt down over his large pregnant swell. Since he was planning on painting, he decided to wear some older clothes. So he had an ankle-length skirt sitting low on his hips beneath his belly, and a blouse which couldn’t cover the entirety of his full womb. It covered most of it, but the bottom was left bare. Showing such skin had Levael feeling a bit flustered given his prim and proper upbringing and he had to remind himself that this was part of learning to be less uptight. A bit of paint on his tummy wasn’t so bad anyway.

A dwarven gentleman was working behind the front desk along with a vampire woman, the two breaking from their conversation as the disguised demon approached. “May I help you?” The vampiric woman asked.

On the side of the desk, Levael noticed the brochures for the artists’ spaces.

“ARE YOU AN ARTIST WHO NEEDS A PLACE TO WORK? ASK ABOUT RENTING ONE OF OUR ARTISTS’ SPACES FROM US!”

If these brochures were the only advertisement the service got, it was no surprise Levael hadn’t learned about it until now. Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to the clerk. “Yes, I was wondering if I could rent out one of your artists’ spaces? Preferably for today.”

The clerk looked at her computer and typed something, then looked back to Levael. “Yes, we have a few spaces available this morning. Are you a returning customer?” 

“No, this is my first time.”

“Alright, I’ll set up a new file for you. First, I need your name.”

“Levi Virago.”

The clerk nodded and resumed typing, then turned to Levael. “Now, we rent our spaces by the hour, so how many hours are you looking to rent for?”

“About two hours. I’m not looking to make anything fancy.” Levael shrugged.

The vampire typed a few more things into her computer. “Okay. Just so you know, once your time is up you have the option to extend your session. What medium are you working with today?”

Levael raised an eyebrow. “Why does that matter?”

“Once a customer’s session is finished we have a cleanup crew take care of any messes and reset each space for the next customer. It helps to let them know what to expect to clean.” The clerk explained.

“Ah, I see. I’m looking to paint today. Watercolors.”

More typing from the clerk. “Alright, last question. Do you have your own materials, or will you be purchasing from us today?”

Levael pursed his lips. “I suppose I’ll be buying.”

The clerk nodded and typed a few last things, then looked up at her customer with a smile. “Okay, you’re all set. Since this is your first time with us, I’ll call someone over to show you around and help you get set up. Please wait here for a moment.” She picked up a phone sitting on the desk, pressed a button, and soon her voice was coming from the PA system overhead. “Cyrian to the front desk for a space tour, Cyrian to the front desk for a space tour.” She hung up and addressed the demon again. “He’ll be down in a moment.”

Nodding, Levael took a seat on a nearby bench and waited. He was only seated for about twenty seconds before someone approached him. A human-sized man phased down to him through the ceiling, and floated in front of him rather than standing on the floor. His skin was a distinct gray color, only a bit darker than Renyr’s come to think of it, and not as ashy in color. His ears had pointed tips, but their size made them more akin to ears of a human than an elf. His hair, a stark and literal red color with a matching red aura emanating from him. On his back, a portion of his aura was concentrated and shaped in a way that gave him the illusion of possessing wings. His nametag read “Cyrian, Assistant Curator”. 

Cyrian was a faerie.

Now those are rare, Levael thought.

If dark elves were uncommon to see outside of the Undercity and the elven kingdom, then seeing a faerie outside of the Fae Wilds was like accidentally stumbling upon buried treasure on the beach.

“Apologies for the wait,” The faerie said, a professional smile on his face, “My name is Cyrian and I’ll be showing you around the space you rented, as well as helping you get settled in. Please, follow me.”

Levael stood from his seat and followed behind his guide, who continued to float instead of walking. “It was hardly any wait at all, don’t worry.” He assured the faerie.

“That’s kind of you to say.” Cyrian led the pregnant man past the front desk and through a large set of swinging doors marked “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY”. Walking down a hallway, the quiet of the gallery began to give way to a mish-mash of loud music. At the end of the hall, there was a second set of double doors next to a kiosk manned by a human, and from what could be seen he was inside of a large supply room. “This is Steven. He runs our supply station.”

“How ya goin’, mate?” Steven asked, shaking hands with Levael. “Anythin’ you need for your work, you can get from me. Canvases, paints, marble, clay, doesn’t matter.”

“What payments do you accept?” Levael asked, rummaging through his bag for his wallet. 

“Cash, credit, debit, check, whatevah.” Steven said. “We can also mail you a bill later if you can’t pay right now.” He took a brochure from a stack on the side of his counter and handed it to his customer. “This here’s our little catalog. Lets you see for yourself just what we’ve got on offer. We’ve got a 5% discount for new customers.”

Levael thanked the human and began looking over the catalog. Different sized canvases, different types of paint, everything he could conceivably need to create with was available. Hell, they even had bizarre contraptions that could be rented for more “experimental” pieces, like a wire system to hoist someone up and allow someone to drop paint from the ceiling. 

Impressive.

The only issue was the prices, which were a bit… inflated. The prices for things as niche as the bits and bobs kept around for the experimental pieces made sense, and the canvases seemed reasonable, but for everything else? Levael made a note to himself to bring his own paints next time.

After having purchased his canvas and watercolor paints, the faerie led Levael through the nearby doors, and just like that the quiet ambiance of the gallery was completely gone. A cacophony of songs were playing all at once, coming from different rooms. Each space was walled off from the ones next to it, but each space lacked doors, meaning that all of the music the artists were listening to as they worked was clashing together. The air was heavy with the smell of paints, coffee, and stale cigarettes. The last one made Levael feel a bit uncomfortable, being pregnant, and if the movement inside his womb was anything to go by then his babies weren’t fond of it either. 

“No one is actually smoking in here, right?” Levael asked cautiously. “Because if someone is then I can’t be here. I’m sure I don’t need to explain why.” He said, rubbing the sides of his belly as he pushed his bump forward for emphasis.

“I understand completely. Don’t worry, I’ll go around and ensure no one here is smoking.” Cyrian reassured him. “Let’s get you settled in first. Please, follow me.” 

Levael followed behind the faerie, peeking into each room as they passed by. Someone was chiseling away at a large slab of marble and blasting speed metal. Another person was painting an enormous mural, listening to classical music. Someone else was sitting at a pottery wheel and listening to pop songs. The two men passed by several more spaces before coming across someone familiar. Inside one of the rooms sat Renyr, slouched in his seat and contemplating the canvas sitting on the easel before him, cup of coffee beside the oil paints next to him and listening to old, peacenik style music.

“Renyr?” Levael said, stopping in his tracks.

Renyr sat up straight and looked over to the doorway, surprise crossing his face when he saw the pregnant man. “Levi?” He began to smile, beckoning Levael over. “Hey, good to see ya! I didn’t expect to stumble by you today!”

Rubbing his tummy, Levael walked over to the other man’s side, feeling his heart begin to flutter as his babies shifted. As he noticed Renyr eyeing up his swollen womb, he decided not to try and fix his blouse, which had ridden up on his belly. “Likewise.”

“You two know each other?” The faerie asked as he floated over. “I wish I’d known. I would have tried to get you a discount on your session today.”

“Oh? You’re friends?”

“That’s right,” Cyrian nodded with a smile, “Renyr comes by often enough that it was pretty much unavoidable.”

“What can I say, I’m a charming fella.” Renyr said with a grin that made Levael’s heart skip a beat and his babies kick.

“What are you working on?” Levael asked, looking over Renyr’s shoulder to his easel. It looked like an outline for a painting of a woman in the checkout line of a grocery store with an overhead view of the items in her cart and on the cashier’s belt.

“I told you I had a client yesterday, right?” The dark elf asked. “Well, this is part of it. You’ve heard of Lucky Stop, right?”

“The grocery chain? Of course.”

“That’s them. They’re planning a new advertising campaign based around showing off how diverse their merchandise is. So I’m thinking of a lady's shopping cart and you can see she’s got, like, meat and dairy and bread and cleaners and motor oil and crap. This is my first draft, more or less.” 

Before Levael could respond, Cyrian cleared his throat and addressed the demon. “Excuse me, I think I smell someone smoking. I’ll be right back.” He hurriedly floated off and phased through the wall into the next room, leaving the dark elf and the disguised demon alone. 

“Is smoking allowed here?” Levael asked.

“Officially, no. Unofficially, the staff tends to let little things slide when it comes to regulars.” The shorter man shrugged.

“You know, I’ve never met a faerie before.” Levael mused.

“The majority of people haven’t. Hell, unless you’re living on the edge of the Fae Wilds it’s generally safe to assume you’ll go your whole life without meeting one.” Renyr said with a nod. He turned his attention back to his canvas and picked his brush back up. “So, what brings you by today?”

“Well, hearing you talk about the gallery yesterday got me thinking about how long it’s been since the last time I did some painting, so I figured I’d come and see what it was like.” As he spoke Levael rested his hands atop his tummy, wondering how best to take advantage of the fact they were alone. Renyr seemed fond of his bump, so maybe he could offer him the chance for a quick belly rub?

As he was thinking, something suddenly touched the bottom of the pregnant man’s belly. Levael yelped and jumped backward, then turned his large bump to the side so he could see what had been beneath it. But the only thing he saw was the empty floor.

Renyr jerked his head around when he heard Levael shout. “What, what’s wrong?!” He asked, clearly worried. 

“S-Something touched the bottom of my belly!” Levael shuddered. 

Initially, Renyr was concerned, but after thinking about it for a second his body relaxed and he looked much calmer. More irritated than worried. “I’ll be right back.” He sighed. He stood from his seat and hurried out of the room, calling for Cyrian as he went.

Levael took deep breaths, trying to figure out what was happening. Why was it that Renyr wasn’t as concerned? The look on his face suggested he knew what was going on, or at least had some kind of idea. Holding his womb protectively, the pregnant man decided that perhaps he had imagined the feeling of something on his belly. A good chunk of his skin was exposed at the moment. It was probably the breeze of the fans in the area. 

As if to prove to Levael that no, he had in fact NOT imagined it, he once again felt something touching the bottom of his belly. 

It felt like a hand.

It was rubbing his belly.

Shouting, Levael jumped backward and again turned to the side to see what his bump had been hiding, and again he saw nothing but the floor. 

Cyrian phased through the wall, looking quite annoyed. “I’m sorry this happened. Please, let me take care of it.” He said. He dove down and through the floor before any reply could be made, which did nothing for the man he’d left alone. Levael looked to the doorway in hopes that Renyr would soon be back too, and thankfully the elf in question walked back in a second later.

“What is going on?!” Levael demanded, a shudder running down his spine.

Renyr walked over and sighed. “Honestly, it would be easier to just see for yourself.” He took Levael’s hand and gave a few reassuring pats. Suddenly this whole thing didn’t seem quite so terrible.

Cyrian phased back up through the floor, and Levael’s eyes widened at what he saw. Cyrian was pulling by the ear another faerie. And this one looked to be almost the opposite of his friend. Where Cyrian’s hair and aura were red, this one’s was blue. Where Cyrian’s skin was gray, this one was porcelain pale. Where Cyrian was dressed respectably, this one was dressed like he’d simply grabbed whatever was on the floor, with an ill-fitting hoodie, tank top, and torn up jeans. He was barefoot as well.

Oh, and he was also heavily pregnant. On the body of someone human-sized it was rather large, making him look like he was carrying triplets. His pregnant swell was the entire reason his hoodie wasn’t fitting, and his tank top left his belly entirely exposed. The fact that the rest of his body appeared to be rather skinny only served to make his pregnancy look bigger still. He didn’t just look like he could pop any second, he looked like he should have popped quite a while ago. 

“Owie owie owie owie owie!” The second faerie whined.

“Tam’len, look what you’ve done!” Cyrian almost sounded like he was scolding a child as he spoke to his friend, literally wagging his finger at him. “You’ve made our guest uncomfortable and you gave him a terrible scare besides!”

“But I couldn’t help myself! I saw he had a lovely belly and I just had to rub it!” Tam’len jerked away from the other faerie’s grip and gestured to the disguised demon’s bump. “I mean, look at him! When was the last time you saw such a nice tummy! You know you want to pet it too!”

Cyrian crossed his arms, annoyance practically radiating off of him and his face unmoving. “We’ve talked about this, Tam’len.”

Sheepishly, the pregnant faerie faced Levael and gave him puppy dog eyes. “I’m sorry, Levi. I just thought your belly looked so nice, that’s all. I’m not a bad guy, I swear.”

Initially, Levael wondered how the faerie knew his name, before realizing that if he had been watching him then he obviously would have overheard it. “You could have asked.” He said sternly. 

“This has been riveting, but I need to get back to work.” Renyr said, walking past the other men and sitting back at his easel. “Levi, we can talk more later.” 

Cyrian checked his watch and quietly cursed under his breath. “I was supposed to be in the curator’s office five minutes ago. Levi, please follow me so we can get you set up.” Before the pair left the room, he turned and eyed Tam’len. “And YOU,” he said, his voice harsh with warning, “better not cause any more trouble.” He led Levael away before any response could come from the pregnant faerie. 

Levael was led to the very next room over, and watched as Cyrian flew about hurriedly, setting up everything his customer would need. Easel, side table, chair, the music system, the water for the paints, all of it. “You can search for any songs you want on the stereo; it’s by artist or genre. And if Tam’len bothers you, let me know!” He called over his shoulder as he flew out. 

And so the demon was left alone, nothing left to do but figure out what he would paint. Sighing, he gently rubbed his belly, trying to sort out what had just happened. Massaging the sides of his pregnant swell, he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of the little ones inside of him. They were exercising their little legs and arms, causing their father’s bump to warp and shift. “I’m not sure what that was about either,” He said quietly, “If he’d just asked to feel I probably would have said yes…”

“Good to know!”

Levael was so startled by the voice behind him that he nearly fell out of his seat. He quickly turned around, and there was Tam’len, floating nearby and smiling mischievously. “You!”

“Look, I just wanted to apologize again. I’m sure you can sympathize though! You seem like a guy who can appreciate a nice belly when he sees one. You’re a man of taste. The quality of your own tum can attest to that.”

Levael turned and looked at his easel, arms crossed. As annoyed as he was, this faerie wasn’t doing a bad job of flattering him. And he did enjoy it when his belly received attention. He just didn’t like it when people touched him without permission.

“Here,” Tam’len said as he placed a piece of paper on Levael’s belly “take it.”

Raising an eyebrow, Levael picked up the paper and looked at it, seeing a series of numbers. “Is this your phone number?”

Tam’len grinned, unashamed with himself. “Yep! Let’s hang out sometime! I got a feeling we could both use some more friends who know what it’s like to lug around a baby in your belly all day.” He said, rubbing circles in his own enormous bump. 

Silence. Levael didn’t have any answer to give without giving it some thought. Sure this guy was weird, but he was right that Levael could use some more friends. Three years he’d been living in Bohemia and so far he had no particular friends to speak of. Only people he got along with, and pretty much all of them were just his coworkers. And if he should gain a friend who knows what it’s like to be pregnant, all the better. Plus… if he was being completely honest… Tam’len had a pretty nice belly. Still…

“I don’t know. I don’t think I need a friend who can’t take the feelings of others into account.” He said, pointedly looking away from Tam’len.

But Tam’len was undeterred, and he floated around so Levael was looking at him again. “What about a friend you can be yourself around?”

Levael felt a sudden chill down his spine. To say he didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking would be an understatement. “What do you mean?” He asked, sitting up a little straighter.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure elves don’t have horns.”

Levael froze. His horns were hidden by his magic, yet Tam’len could see them? “How…?” His voice was shaking, quiet and small as he only barely managed to force out that one single word. 

Tam’len grinned in response. “C’mon, us fae are known for being mischievous, aren’t we? Once you realize that we’re experts with glamors, it becomes obvious, doesn’t it? Who better to see past a magical disguise than a fae?”

A cold sweat ran down Levael’s skin as his mind raced with all the potential ways Tam’len could use his knowledge of the demon’s true race to ruin his life. “You have a funny way of making friends, you know that?” He asked quietly, his hands clenched into fists so tight his claw-like nails threatened to puncture his skin.

This question caused the smile to drop from Tam’len’s face. “Hey, don’t think I’m trying to blackmail you into anything. If you really don’t want to hang out, then fine. I’m not gonna force you to be my pal. I just thought maybe you’d appreciate having someone you don’t need to hide your true self around.” Gently, he placed a hand on Levael’s shoulder. His eyes no longer contained any trace of playfulness, now showing only concern, perhaps mixed with a bit of sympathy. “I’m gonna take a stab in the dark and guess that Levi isn't exactly a common name for demons. Does anyone outside of the underworld know your name? How long has it been since you’ve heard another person say it?”

Levael gulped, forcing himself to remain cool and not show how close to home those questions hit. Though he could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes, he forced his face to remain neutral. “Levael,” he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper, “my name is Levael.”

“Nice to meet you, Levael.” Tam’len said, his grin returning to his face. How he had managed to hear the other man beneath the music others were playing was a mystery, but Levael decided it wasn’t worth questioning right now. “How’s about you pet my belly this time, eh?” The faerie moved aside what little cloth was covering his swollen womb, baring the pale sphere of his pregnancy to the other man.

A small smile passed over Levael’s face. “Well… Okay.” He placed his hands on the tummy in front of him, gently stroking and petting it. The baby inside shifted and rolled, causing the entire belly to shift and warp in a manner one would consider either comical or grotesque. Levael gasped and pulled his hands away, his reaction causing Tam’len to snicker.

“What’s the matter? Not used to this much movement?” He teased, giving his bump a playful smack. His baby responded with another dramatic motion. A little foot pressed out toward the demon, its outline clear through the skin. Though, it looked a bit bigger than it should be…

Tam’len took Levael’s hands and placed them back on his belly, allowing him to feel the next wave of movement. As the unborn infant moved, Levael could quite clearly feel different parts of the baby. The knees, the head, the feet, just about everything. Tam’len wasn’t carrying multiples, his belly was stuffed with one single, big baby. 

“Pretty sweet gut, eh?” The faerie said, patting the very top of his bump.

Levael merely nodded, his attention transfixed on the lively belly beneath his touch. He loved his own belly plenty, but the chance to feel someone else’s lively womb was fairly rare for him ever since leaving the underworld. Tam’len’s belly was flawless, with absolutely no stretch marks or blemishes to speak of. His skin was soft, but just underneath it felt oh-so firm and tight as a drum. His belly button was popped out, a fat little nub sitting on the apex of his pregnancy like a crown upon the head of royalty. “Your belly button looks like mine.” Levael said with a smile, lifting what little cloth of his blouse that was covering his navel. 

“Awwww, what a cute lil button.” Tam’len purred, giving the exposed belly button a poke. Levael choked back a tiny moan in the back of his throat, causing Tam’len’s smile to grow wider as mischief gleamed in his eye. “Oh? Did I stumble upon something sensitive?” He teased, giving the navel a small flick. A small, quiet whine escaped the demon as he rubbed his thighs together, gripping his chair and fidgeting. “Hmm. Good to know.” Tam’len said with a small laugh. Thankfully, he decided to show mercy on Levael, and instead patted the other man’s tummy, then patted his head. “So what do you say? How’s about we chill sometime? Just two preggos, out on the prowl, painting the town red and getting into trouble.”

Taking deep breaths, Levael needed to take a second to calm himself down before he could reply. This faerie was a troublemaker, no doubt about it, yet he was empathetic enough to pick up on Levael’s loneliness. Having a friend who didn’t care that he was a demon sounded so, so nice. The chance to be his authentic self… To not have to hear someone use a name he felt nothing for…

I can at least give him a chance. It’s not like I can’t walk away if I don’t like him.

Levael didn’t stop Tam’len from patting his head, without realizing he’d actually been leaning into it. “Well… Okay.” He said, nodding. “But I could do without the trouble.”

Tam’len grinned and moved his hand to Levael’s shoulder. “Light mischief it is, then.” He placed the demon’s hands back on his his belly, eyeing Levael’s bump as he did. “Mind if I return the favor?”

Blushing, Levael nodded. Tam’len floated a bit lower and placed his hands on the offered belly, happily and greedily rubbing away. “Oh yeah. This is definitely one of the best bellies I’ve ever seen.” Looking up at the man whose belly he was fondling, he snickered as he noted how Levael’s blush deepened. He gently pressed around the stuffed womb beneath his touch, feeling all of the babies within. “Ooh, you’ve got a whole litter in there, don’t you?” He cooed as he felt the unborn kick and roll, “Feels like they’re having fun.” 

“Your belly is nice too,” Levael said, “it’s so smooth and soft.”

“Hey, thanks! But so’s yours, y’know. Or are you just being modest?”

The two men sat there for a time, rubbing and stroking each other’s tummies, feeling the movements of their wombs’ occupants, and complimenting each other. Engrossed in the sensation of bellies, Levael was startled when he heard someone clear his throat. He whipped his head around, and there floated Cyrian. “Cyrian!” He yelped as he quickly stumbled to his feet. The two fae had to catch him from tripping over in his haste. Hurriedly fixing his clothes and clearing his throat, Levael tried to calm himself down and put an end to his intense blushing. 

“Your time’s up.” Cyrian stated, his voice professional and non-judgemental of what he’d walked (or rather floated) in on. He looked at his customer’s canvas, noting how it was as blank as it had been when he left Levael alone. “It looks like you didn’t get much painting done.”

“Oh…” Levael followed Cyrian’s gaze and noticed that he had indeed accomplished nothing over the two hours he’d been there.

“Would you like to extend your time?” Cyrian asked. 

“Ah, that’s not necessary.” Levael shook his head. “I think I’m done for today.” 

Cyrian nodded. “I see.” He looked back and forth between his customer and his friend, then addressed the demon once more. “Was Tam’len bothering you at all? It didn’t look like he was when I came in, but I figure I’d better ask anyway.”

Tam’len stuck out his tongue at his friend, then flew off and phased through the ceiling. “Oh no, he wasn’t bothering me at all.” Levael said with a shake of his head. 

“Good to hear. I never know with him.” Cyrian said, arms crossed. “Since you didn’t wind up actually doing anything today, I’ll see if I can’t get you a refund.” When Levael opened his mouth to protest, Cyrian cut him off. “Don’t bother arguing, I’m going to do it even if you make me promise I won’t.” He smiled. “A friend of Renyr’s is a friend of mine, after all.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Levael said. He began packing up the paints he had purchased, then looked to Cyrian, who was putting everything else away. “Cyrian, can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

Levael took a deep breath and looked the fae in the eye. “Were you able to see past my disguise the whole time?”

Cyrian was quiet as he looked down at the floor, then up at the demon. “I figured it’s not my business.”

Silence passed between the two. It figured that if Tam’len had been able to see his true self, then so would Cyrian. “Please don’t say anything to Renyr.”

“I understand why you need to hide yourself. I still don’t like that you’re lying to my friend.”

“Please.” Levael begged. 

Another moment of silence, then Cyrian gave a small nod. “Alright. But please tell him sooner rather than later.”

Levael nodded. “I’ll tell him. Just… I need to know him more first. I can’t just reveal myself to someone I only met a few days ago.” 

Cyrian nodded, the sympathy he felt clear on his face as his eyes softened. “I get that. For what it’s worth, Renyr’s never seemed to have any problem with demons. I hope that helps.”

Hearing those words, Levael felt his heart flutter a bit as a new feeling of hope planted itself within. Sure, it was possible that Renyr’s issues with demonkind were something he kept to himself, hence why Cyrian had never seen it. But it was equally possible that Renyr was simply someone who felt no grudge against his people. Levael decided he would hold out for the latter possibility until it was proven otherwise. “It does. Thank you.” Cyrian saw Levael to the door of the artists’ area, and the demon turned to look at him. “Cyrian? I have a few questions more.”

“Go ahead.” Cyrian nodded.

“First, if you’re assistant curator, why are you the one seeing to someone renting out space instead of a lower employee?” Levael asked, head tilted.

Immediately, Cyrian’s smile became strained. It would seem this was perhaps a sore spot of some kind. “My boss-”

“Is an asshole!” 

Both men looked up where the voice was coming from and saw Tam’len poking his head down through the ceiling. “Tam’len!” Cyrian cried. The other fae replied by poking out his tongue and disappearing again. Sighing, Cyrian rubbed his temples and looked back to Levael with his forced smile once more, though it looked to be equally tired this time. “Let’s just say my boss expects much of me. Your other question?”

“Um, yes. Since you already know that I’m… I’m…” Levael took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage to say it before deciding that the best way to do so would be to simply force the words out before his mind had a chance to think about it. “that I’m a demon, when no one is around, would you call me Levael?”

The smile that crossed Cyrian’s face immediately caused the knot in Levael’s stomach to loosen. “Sure thing, Levael.” The faerie said.

Hearing someone use his real name lifted a weight from Levael’s shoulders, one he hadn’t known had been there while also realizing how it had been binding him. How was it that simply hearing someone use his name made him feel so free? Why was something so small making his heart feel as though it was being lifted from a dark pit? 

“Thank you.” Levael said quietly, unable to control the smile spreading across his face. “I’ll see you around.” He waved goodbye and began walking back to the entrance, catching Renyr at a vending machine on his way out. “Hello again, Renyr.” 

Renyr looked at Levael, smiling. “Hey there. Heading out for the day?”

“That’s right. How about you?”

“I’ve still got some time left. I want to get some more work done on my draft before I head home for the day.” He reached into the machine and pulled out a bag of chips. “Might I offer you a snack?” He asked, shaking the small bag enticingly. 

Levael chuckled. “I appreciate the offer, but I think you might need it more if you’re still going to be working here for a while.” As if to argue with him, Levael’s belly gave a loud growl, his babies kicking and punching in demand of food. “Oof…” He groaned, rubbing the sides of his tummy. 

“Sounds like you’ve been outvoted.” Renyr laughed.

“Maybe so, but this isn’t a democracy. I’ll get them some real food instead.” He said, smiling down at his bump as he patted it reassuringly.

Renyr looked down to the belly before him, then back up to Levael. “Mind if I feel?”

Levael nodded, perhaps a bit more eager than he’d like to have come across. “Yes, go ahead.” He said, trying to catch his breath as he felt his heart begin to pick up its pace.

Renyr placed his hands on the lovely bump, rubbing it softly. “Hey in there, you need to go easy on your daddy. You’ll get your food soon.” One of the babies inside rolled, causing the disguised demon’s belly to visibly warp and shift before sharply kicking Renyr’s hand. “Geez, these guys are impatient.” He grinned up at Levael.

Blushing, Levael laughed awkwardly. “Hah, yeah, they’ve got some big appetites.” He said. He decided to leave out the part where they were probably also annoyed by his racing heart. “I suppose I do too.”

“In that case, let’s get ourselves a nice lunch sometime,” The elven man suggested, “I have a feeling that’s a date these guys would agree to.” He said as he patted Levael’s pregnant swell. 

“O-Oh yes, they’d enjoy that very much.” Levael said, nodding quickly. “Should I call you later? I have the night off work today.” 

“Oh yeah? That’s good. I’ll give you a call once I get back home.” Renyr checked his watch, his smile running away from his face as he did so. “Dammit. For now though, I gotta get back to work. I’ll see you soon, Levi.” He gave the belly a few goodbye pats, and turned and began walking back to his space, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “By the way, your belly looks really cute today.”

Upon hearing these words, Levael began blushing profusely, his mind short circuiting and his face blushing furiously. “I-I-I’m glad you- Um, I mean, um, th-thanks!” He said quickly before turning and hurrying away before he could further embarrassing himself. The rest of the gallery became a blur as he scurried out, not even noticing the vampire at the front desk telling him to have a nice day. He only paused once when, in his hurry, he’d run into the door, squashing his belly and leaving him feeling quite embarrassed from all the stares it had no doubt earned him.

Once outside, Levael paused to catch his breath. His heart was about to pound its way out of his chest, and his babies were throwing a fit inside his womb. First they had been denied food, then bothered by the sound of his racing heart, THEN squished against the door, and now they’d been bounced around as he ran out of the building. Two of them decided to take revenge with targeted strikes against his ribs and cervix. “Ow! I’m sorry!” Levael whimpered. “We’ll go get food now, okay?” He huffed, stroking his belly in an attempt to calm its tenants. 

As he began to walk toward the bus stop, he heard a giggling behind him. Looking back, he saw Tam’len floating behind him, grinning and snickering. “Aww, now wasn’t that cute? I think I see good times in store.” With a giggle and a grin and a cheeky wink, Tam’len shrank down to the size one would assume a faerie to be based on children’s stories. He was small enough to fit in one’s palm, especially for someone as large as Levael. Looking like a ball of blue light, he flew off before the demon could ask what he’d meant. 

Levael paused for a moment, trying to figure out what Tam’len had meant before his thoughts were interrupted by another loud stomach growl and another kick against his cervix. Groaning and rubbing his belly, Levael walked off toward the bus stop deciding that right now he should focus on where to get lunch. Maybe a buffet. Still, as he sat on the bus stroking his swollen womb, thoughts of Renyr complimenting his belly kept replaying in his mind. Levael had to pinch himself to stop from squealing like an infatuated schoolgirl, and decided then and there that after lunch, he would go home and wait there until he got Renyr’s call. And if his growling gut was any indication, getting enough food to satisfy his stomach and his babies would probably take up a good chunk of time.

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[hush-writes-preg]

Spooky Season Day #5

Concept: It was just a little harmless fun with an old book. Neither you nor your best friend took any of that demonic mumbo-jumbo seriously. But after you'd jokingly read the first incantation you'd come to, everything had changed.

It could have been the gut-wrenching nausea. Or it could have been the crimson symbol that glowed with unholy light from beneath your navel. Or maybe it had to do with the way your stomachs suddenly began to balloon beneath your clothing. Now you could only stare at each other as something within your bellies kicked and twisted, growing much faster you'd ever have thought possible.

(A Spooky Season prompt. Feel free to put it to good use! 😘)

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