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The Avatar of Destiny looms over Blueberry Milk Cookie. It’s form massive compared to the Sage. The light of its halo cast down upon him, focus intense and entirely pointed at him, even with its eyes closed.
This had started out entirely as research.
An attempt to learn more about the mysterious Avatar of Destiny, the fore-bearer of his Soul Jam. At some point it had turned into more than that, for as abrasive and reclusive the Avatar was when they first met, there was something that drew him to it. Flickers of kindness, of something more gentle than its role ordained by the Witches.
For the longest time, even Blueberry Milk wasn’t sure if they were even companions or just simply… associates. Research partners or whatever. It never kicked him out of the ruined temple it called it’s domain, but at the same time, it seemed hesitant to broach the strange relationship the two found themselves in.
And yet.
And yet.
Blueberry Milk swallows the saliva gathering in his mouth, heat pooling in his gut as the Avatar traced a claw down the front of his clothes. His own gaze fixated on the Avatar’s hand, the size of which was nearly as tall as he was, and how gently the harbinger of fate treated him. An involuntary whimper almost escapes him when the tip of the digit scraped gently against his clothed crotch, his legs unconsciously spreading at the action.
Fuck. He was already embarrassingly wet from that action, underwear damp from slick. Hips canting as he whined when the Avatar lightly pressed down with the joint of its finger.
The entire situation was making his head spin. Blueberry Milk wasn’t even sure if the Avatar even had sexual desires, yet here it was, having acquiesced to his (frankly) embarrassing and insane request.
Some deliriously horny part of him was convinced the Avatar was just as into this as he was.
Though the Sage isn’t given time to dwell on that idea, as the angelic figure dragged its claw down the front of his clothes, cutting through the cloth with barely any effort. Blueberry Milk gasps as he’s exposed, almost instinctively covering himself up before willing himself to still.
Though most of his wardrobe was magically conjured, it was still a surprise. At least the Avatar had the mind to carefully (almost gingerly) pluck the Sage’s Soul Jam off, and place it to the side. On a nearby altar, and away from their illicit activities.
“So—“ Blueberry Milk starts to say, only to be cut off with a gasp when the Avatar of Destiny picks him up. He’s held not unlike his own dolls, with the divine incarnate’s fingers circling his waist. The grip is loose, he could wiggle out anytime should he find himself uncomfortable, and he knows the Avatar would stop at his behest.
Yet, the action has him seeing stars, heat rushing to his face as his core fluttered. The possessive undertone of it stunning him, the reminder that even if the Avatar occasionally acted as a cookie, it was ultimately something other. Still, the Sage makes no move to get out of the hold, all he does is absently rub his thighs together as the angel brought him level to its face.
The new angle only accentuates the difference in size between them, as Blueberry Milk is left to gaze up at the Avatar’s now open eyes. Clearing his throat, even as his words fail him, he tries to speak again. “My dear, what are you… doing—?”
Just as he poses his question, the formless, featureless plane of its face begins to shift and split open. The Sage goes quiet again, eyes wide as a long tongue slithered out of the newly formed mouth, the sword-length teeth glistening in the twilight of the Avatar’s domain.
Traitorously, his cunt throbs at the sight.
The Avatar brings Blueberry Milk close to its face, who in turn yelps in surprise, scrabbling lightly at the other’s fingers. “H-hey, let’s not be too hasty h-eRE—!” His voice pitches higher at the end of his sentence, turning into a whine as it slid the length of its tongue along his drooling slit. “A-ah—!”
When it barely pulls back, the Sage makes a displeased noise, attempting to chase the sensation. Only for the muscle to properly press against his hole, the tip pushing past the lips of his pussy to circle the entrance. Not quite penetrating the scholar just yet.
Impatiently, Blueberry Milk rocks his hips, the motion slightly hindered by the hand holding him in place. It’s just barely enough to get the angel’s tongue to just barely catch the edge of his hole. Even that was enough to pull a breathy moan out of him, “My Angel, please just do it already—“
Taking the hint, the celestial being tips the smaller cookie closer to its face, hot breath fanning the skin of the Sage. The motion deliberately letting the other sink down on its tendril-like tongue. The prehensile muscle undulating to grind against Blueberry Milk’s throbbing clit at the same time.
The Sage keens at the sensation, back arching as his hips bucked into the motion, forcing the slick muscle deeper into his hole. His mind blanking as the Avatar practically fucked him open with its tongue, mouth open while he made cute ‘Ah! Ah! Ah’ sounds.
He’s barely able to register the Avatar of Destiny consciously shifting its hand as so he’d avoid the sharp teeth of the angel. Even as the Sage squirmed and rocked his hips against the motions of its tongue. His body is all but halfway in the Avatar’s mouth by the time he notices, dazed gaze flickering to the sudden realization of the proximity to the shiny enamel.
(A brief thought flashes in his mind, the image of the Avatar of Destiny clamping its jaws down upon him whilst he was still in its mouth. The image of its teeth breaking apart the brittle, crispy dough of his body, tasting the blueberry jam and milk baked into his form. It’s throat bobbing as it swallowed him whole.)
(Would it find him delicious?)
(Oh, stars. He hoped it would..!)
Alas, for its nature as a Beast, a force of nature and fate itself, it is remarkably gentle with him. Keeping the frail cookie away from its sharp incisors and crushing molars.
The Avatar coos, a low rumbling sound that reverberated throughout Blueberry Milk’s core. The vibrations cause him to cry out, cunt clenching around the slick muscle probing deeper than ever before. His fingers scrabble at the fingers holding him, yet paradoxically he makes no attempt to escape, simply putting on a show of struggle as he lets the angel slide it’s tongue further and deeper into him, and Blueberry Milk’s mind all but fries as he feels it press against all the spots that made him see stars, the tip of its tongue prodding against his cervix—!
Blueberry Milk comes with a choked cry, his back arching as his vision whited out. His core clenching around the muscle pressed inside him as he all but gushed onto it, spilling his slick into the angel’s tongue and open mouth. He’s vaguely aware of his legs jerking underneath him, and the steady grip the Avatar has on him the only thing keeping him from falling off its hand.
It makes a pleased hum at the taste, the vibrations of the noise causing the Sage to whimper and squirm as it slowly withdrew out of him, dragging the flat of tongue against his throbbing clit.
The hand not holding the Sage goes to part the feathers and wings wrapped around the Avatar, the ones imitating robes. Blueberry Milk’s gaze following the action, even as he pants from exertion, limbs all but jelly. Though, to his (almost) disappointment, it’s body is just as featureless as it’s face, black as void barring a smattering of the glimmering stars dotted across its form.
At least, until something seemed to shift, Blueberry Milk blinking through his post-orgasmic haze, trying to make out what the being did. He can’t quite tell what it was, either a slit or a sheathe between the angel’s legs. The Avatar thumbs at itself, almost self-consciously as it coaxed something out of the opening, the sight of which causing the Sage’s breath to catch in his throat, slitted eyes dilating in arousal.
‘It’s not going to fit.’ Is his first, very intelligent thought.
Followed by the hornier, filthier part of his brain going; ‘I’ll make it fit.’
Blueberry Milk is lowered down, the angel’s fingers still wrapped around his waist. The difference in size is more noticeable like this, and a whine slips out of his mouth at the thought. The Avatar’s length was almost as long as he was tall, and thicker than his waist. It was girthier at the base, tapering off slightly at the end, clear glistening fluid trickling down the shaft along the ridges running down the underside.
Were he anyone else or a regular cookie, the idea of taking it would be a terrifying prospect, and likely to be lethal.
Luckily he wasn’t just anybody, and thus the size difference would not be an obstacle. Blueberry Milk was practically drooling as he raked his gaze across the celestial being’s body, drinking in the sight of its twitching cock, tip pressed flush his abdomen and hot against his body.
He could be used like the Avatar’s toy if it wished.
(Would he be insane for thinking that as hot?)
It however, does none of that. Gentle being that it was, especially with him. All the angel does is slowly grind its length against his body, smearing precum across his stomach, and rubbing against his clit. Even just this amount of contact felt good, sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine as he whimpered.
The fact that the Avatar almost seemed hesitant to go further than this, didn’t escape the Sage’s notice.
Spreading his legs in invitation —or well trying to, given his current position— Blueberry Milk tries to entice the angel, “C’mon, what’s the holdup?”
It makes a soft, worried noise, the question clear as the sound reverberated through his body. Despite wanting him the same way he wanted it, the Avatar also didn’t want to hurt him.
An aborted laugh escapes the Sage before he can stop himself. “Angel, you won’t hurt me,” As of to emphasize his point, he wiggles his hips slightly, subtly grinding against the length, pussy clenching around nothing, “I trust you.”
The celestial being shivers at the action, dick throbbing as more precum pooled on Blueberry Milk’s abdomen. A wordless whine tears out of its throat, still worried, despite his reassurances.
Blueberry Milk’s expression softens, and he reaches over to pat the fingers loosely wrapped around his body. “Trust me on this, okay? I’m not that easy to break.”
There’s a moment of hesitation, before the Sage wiggles again in encouragement, and maybe also a little bit of impatience. Searing heat is drawn across his skin as the length is dragged down his body, the Avatar pulling him up until he was positioned above the angel’s tip. It feels even bigger like this, the cockhead hot and heavy pressed against his cunt, Blueberry Milk whimpering when his clit catches against the slit.
Despite his reassurances, the Avatar is gentle in its actions, slowly pushing him down onto itself, eyes scanning his expression for any form of discomfort. It’s thumb rubbing small circles on his side, an attempt to soothe him.
However the Sage is unable to register any of this. Too focused on the fact that his beloved Avatar is finally going to claim him. Too focused on the burn of the stretch that comes from penetration.
To say he wasn’t uncomfortable, would be a lie. Though it’s a truth he’d rather keep from the celestial being. He can feel the basis of his form shifting to accommodate the difference in size anyhow, latent abilities kicking into overdrive to make sure he doesn’t die when it bottoms out in him.
(Honestly, it’d be a funny way to go. ‘Here lies Blueberry Milk Cookie, the Sage of Truth. Cause of death; trying to fuck an angel the size of a building.’)
His legs kick out instinctually, when even just the tip slips into his heat with an almost audible pop. Choking on a sound that’s somewhere between a gasp and a moan, Blueberry Milk’s insides flutter weakly around the intrusion. Even the copious amounts of slick and saliva provided had barely eased the push, an obscene bulge forming in his gut just from the tip alone.
The Avatar stills, wings fluttering in muted panic, taking the Sage’s noise as pain. Only to settle down when the Sage bats at its fingers, a slurred; “Keep going, please—“ slightly easing its transparent concerns.
He’s pushed down slowly, almost agonizingly so. Blueberry Milk whimpers with each inch stuffed into him, the pleasure-pain of the stretch making him lightheaded, his hips bucking as the swell of his stomach grew taut to accommodate the angel’s girth. Like this, he can feel every minute detail of the cock destroying him, each ridge and vein grinding against his velvet walls.
There’s a line of drool forming down his chin, his jaw slack as embarrassing noises spilled out of his mouth, mismatched eyes rolling back into his head. He can feel the tip pressed insistently at his cervix, like it’s trying to work the ring of muscle open and claim his womb. The folds of his pussy slick and stretched out obscenely around the angel’s length.
It feels like an eternity has passed when the Avatar finally bottoms out. There’s a small bit of resistance at the end, from the gradual increase in girth, the tip crushing against his cervix, not quite enough to push past that muscle. It burns pleasantly inside of Blueberry Milk’s core, his hips twitching as his walls squeezed around the impossible fit.
He’s panting, mind blissfully blank and barely aware, save for the grounding circles the Avatar rubs against his side. It croons at him, gentle, even as it twitches inside his cunt, milky eyes dark with arousal. Blueberry Milk makes a noise that might’ve been ‘Mhm,’ at the insistent questioning, weakly hitting at its fingers again, trying to urge the beast to just get on with it.
It doesn’t do so immediately, always far more concerned with the Sage’s being, rather than itself. Eventually, after Blueberry Milk squirmed in its hold a bit more, the Avatar begins to rock inside of him, slow and gently, yet it’s still enough to make him gasp. Each slow movement drags the ridges of the length against his walls, the tip nudging a little bit more at his cervix with he each shallow pass.
He thinks he might’ve sobbed or even begged a bit, words like ‘More—‘ or ‘F-faster please—!’ as he tried to rock his hips against the gentle thrusts. Each time, the angel shushes him, cooing softly at him -even as he’s aware that its control is beginning to fray. It’s hips twitching with each wanton noise that leaves the Sage’s mouth.
Blueberry Milk can practically feel his heart pounding in his chest, pulse roaring in his ears. Slowly, but surely, the Avatar begins to pick up speed, thrusts growing a little more forceful, it’s grip around his waist becoming slightly tighter. It’s breathing heavy as it’s multitude of eyes gazed down upon his writhing form. Noises that sound like ‘Yes—! Like that!’ or ‘Ah-! Harder—!’ spilled out of his mouth.
Each movement drives the celestial being against his cervix, again and again, he’s sure the ring of muscle was slowly relenting to the onslaught of pressure.
And eventually— it does.
It slips in with an —almost imagined— wet ‘pop!’ Blueberry Milk’s back bows as his vision whites out for a moment, mouth open in a silent scream. He thinks he might’ve cum again, it’s hard to tell for him now with every sensation blurring together from pleasure-pain, his every nerve on fire.
If he thought he felt full before, it was nothing compared to now. Not much has changed, but feels deeper, more profound. It feels like rapture, the way it throbs deep inside his heated flesh.
The Sage risks a glance up at the Avatar’s face, a breath catching in his throat at its expression. Sightless eyes wide open, white pupils blown wide from arousal as it watched him squirm. It’s chest rises and falls with each of its labored breaths, a thumb pressed gently against Blueberry Milk’s abdomen.
It starts to move again, no longer the gentle thrusts of before. Each movement punching the breath out of the Sage’s lungs, his eyes rolling back from the sheer sensation, practically designed to plunge him into madness. He’s sure he’s moaning and babbling nonsense at this point, drool all but coating his chin as he held on the Avatar’s fingers for dear life. Blissed out face painting a debauched scene for the angel that was literally and metaphorically rearranging his guts.
And damn it all— it feels good. The heat under Blueberry Milk’s skin barely abating each time he pussy clenches and he squirts on the Avatar’s cock. Orgasm after orgasm is dragged out of him with each push and pull of the length fucking in and out of him. The ridges along it grinding and rubbing against his sensitive walls, stretching his hole to its limits again and again.
Through the haze of his lust induced delirium, he’s sure his beloved beast is close, from the way it’s cock throbbed and twitched inside of his heat. All he can think about now, is just how badly he wants the Avatar to cum inside of him, to mark him inside and out. Frustratingly enough, he can’t wrap his legs around its waist, to guarantee that it had nowhere else to go.
So Blueberry Milk settles for the next best thing.
He starts deliberately running his mouth.
Blinking back into reality, his eyes glazed over from tears he didn’t realize he shed, he begins to chatter in between shameless moans. “P-lease—! Need you so ba-aHN—!” His hips buck as he cums again, “Insi-ah-de! Cum inside pleas—!”
He must be doing something right, probably, with the Avatar all but using him as a hole to fuck into now. Still, he kept going, never knowing when to shut up. “Need you to fill me— use me— fuck me—! Please- Angel I want you to knock me up-AH—!”
Something he said must’ve been the right button to push. As it drew a low snarl from the Avatar, a noise the Sage had never heard come from the gentle being. It’s hand wrapped around his waist tightened it’s grip further as it practically slammed the Sage down to the hilt of its cock, drawing an aborted noise out of him, stars bursting in his vision.
Its movements are erratic and desperate, quickly chasing after that high as Blueberry Milk squirmed in its hold. The movement burned with each thrust, his nerves on fire as his poor pussy is used like a cheap toy. Lewd, wet squelches echoing in the temple as he’s fucked into.
And stars did he love it.
Finally, finally, the Avatar’s movement eventually stutters to a stop, length sheathed in the Sage’s cunt with a shuddering whining noise from the beast. His eyes roll back in his head, eyelids fluttering while he flickers in and out of consciousness.
The first sensation Blueberry Milk registers is heat spreading across his abdomen. Then the strain of his body adapting to the extreme stress being put upon it. He can feel the Avatar cumming in him, each throb of its cock as it pumped its load deep inside of him.
It feels like it goes on forever, or maybe for just a couple of moments, the Sage’s brain is half fried at this point from stars knows how many orgasms. All he can do is moan brokenly as he watches his stomach swell even further through half-lidded eyes. He’s so full of the Avatar.
The cum-drunk part of his brain floats the idea that he’s definitely pregnant now, after goading the angel like that, and it takes everything in him not to cum on the spot again.
Eventually, the sensation of being filled tapers off, and Blueberry Milk barely registers the Avatar pulling out of him. Only whimpering quietly when the feeling of fullness is replaced by emptiness, not helped by the spurt of cum spilling out of his gaping cunt. A part of him desperately wished that the angel would stay inside him, no matter how much it’d cramp later or ridiculous it’d be.
Alas, ‘twas not meant to be. The Sage is let back down on the ground, placed down gently in the nest of soft fabrics and feathers swaddled within its domain. Obviously, his legs are too weak to hold himself up, and most of his body feels like jelly after all of that. So he simply lets himself sprawl across the nest, most definitely making a mess of it from all the fluids.
It takes a moment, but soon the Avatar re-enters his vision, now in its more smaller state. The angel cuddles up to him, nuzzling it’s featureless face against his cheek as it cooed at him in its unknowable language.
“Mngh— I’m fine me dear—!” Even as Blueberry Milk says that, he can’t help a sigh of relief as the familiar cool sensation of White Magic washes over his body, soothing his aches and pains. “Y’know, for once I’d like to keep the marks you leave on me…”
A rumbling amused noise curls from the Avatar’s chest, not quite a purr, but close enough. It’s claws slowly caress the Sage’s body, cheekily dipping lower and gently pushing some of the leaking cum back into his stuffed hole. One finger carefully circling his clit, sending sparks of overstimulation up his spine, legs twitching slightly before the Avatar drew away.
A huff, and a pout on his lips that’s bordering on petulant, Blueberry Milk grumbles, “Tease…” before rolling over practically shoving his face into the fluffy feathery down of the angel’s chest, drawing a startled squawk from it.
He still felt uncomfortably sticky and bloated, but it was hard to deny that he felt comfortable. Exhaustion finally catching up to him, as he curled up against his beloved beast. Breathing slowly evening out.
”…We should do this again sometime.” The Sage’s voice comes out muffled, face still pressed against the the Avatar’s chest, the only indication that he was even heard being an indulgent hum from the angel.
Satisfied, Blueberry Milk let’s his eyes flutter shut, the darkness swallowing him in its comforting embrace. He can feel the Avatar’s wings wrap around him, feathery down becoming both a blanket and and a barrier from the outside world.
Yes, regardless of where the two of them stood, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
-
(Okay maybe he would, his hips ached and everything felt sore. Floating everywhere was already suspicious and while Sweet Apple Cookie was oblivious, he did not appreciate the questioning expression Moondrop Grape sent him. Damn past him for his choices in personal students, and also damn him for choosing to fuck an angel the size of a building.)
(…Though, the Avatar leaving its temple for once and fussing over him all day was quite sweet. So, maybe it wasn’t all that bad.)