#Kink: non-human genitalia

[whokilledsamara]

May I request a NSFW alphabet for our deranged, red ass, momo-eyed princess Mr Scarletta from Homicipher👉👈˃ᴗ˂

MR. SCARLETELLA NSFW ALPHABET

a Mr. Scarletella nsfw alphabet. {an : omg.. why ofc.. hes sooo hot i love him. also funny words >< we need more porn of this man in general, also im working on a hc fic for him~~~~ if nobody will write for him then i will!!! ^•^}

warnings! : stalking, non-conish..? more like dub-con, rough sex, cunnilingus, blowjobs, yandere, blood kink, knife play, hes a kinky mf, abuse play, asphyxiation, afab and amab genitalia described, sadism kink, red. everywhere. miss-use of an umbrella.... looks around nervously

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

it really depends on his mood. USUALLY he is somewhat decent at it. he doesnt really understand the human need for aftercare, so most he will do is probably clean you and cuddle you on certain occasions.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

for him, he likes his hands. and his height, but mainly his hands. {plus you complimented them once, so it made him like them more.}

on YOU, other than your face, definitely your waist and neck. he likes how fragile you are. also he likes YOUR height. small.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

due to his sheer size, he cums a lot. not TOO much, and not as much as the others, but enough to fill you to the brim.

he almost always cums inside, unless its a blowjob. if it is, he likes to pull out and cum on your face or chest. make sure to have your tongue out though.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he really wants to fuck you unconscious. though not really a secret, he makes it obvious.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

you would be his first time, being a ghost and all. but hes a very fast learner so expect him to be a beast in bed {or wherever} once he finds those spots and what turns you on.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

any position that he can choke you in. or shove his fingers in your mouth. he would take another position if you offered though. he just wants you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

even outside of sex, he isn't humorous. hes always serious with that stare that he does {soo sexy.. (´﹃｀)}

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not a lot, but its there. nice red happy trail and hair where it would be normally.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

well he's always romantic. in his own... creepy way. but he does love you. too much. in an obsessive, stalker way. so yes, he is.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he doesn't, nor does he feel the need to, but if he finds YOU touching yourself.. thats a special occasion, he WILL whip it out and start stroking himself then. and only then.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

oh dear.. blood kink, abuse kink, impact kink, vouyerism, asphyxiation, degradation, cnc, etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

either his "space" or somewhere random. {he secretly hopes someone will find you}

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

coprophilia, vomit. thats literally it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers giving. you are his QUEEN. {king if you prefer.} he is a beast with his mouth. he would do anything you ask, much like Mr. Crawling.

he does enjoy receiving though, loves to see you go down on him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

fast and rough. will only slow down if you BEG him to.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

anything to get you and him off. he does prefer to take his time with you, so usually he will just teleport you somewhere.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

obviously. i mean its Mr. Scarletella that we are talking about. {drools...} he would do anything risky.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

doesnt have stamina, could go for hours honestly. he can cum pretty fast if he wants to, but either way he just wants YOU.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

no he doesnt own any. {unless you count his umbrella... well get to that later..}

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh all the time. constantly teasing you and trying to get you horny. if you tease him back then its OVER for you.. good luck walking ><

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not loud at all, his breath may hitch and he might groan softly every now and then, but he wants to listen to your noises more than anything.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he will use his umbrella handle as a "dildo" of sorts. wants to watch you attempt to put it in. the end is curved, so its fun to watch you struggle. he will force it if he has to.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

oo,, big boy. hes over 8 feet tall, so its a given. his shaft is around 8-9 inches maybe, a darker tip and maybe 3 inches wide.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

hes only horny if either you are, or if you do something that turns him on.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

doesnt need sleep, he is a ghost. does enjoy watching you sleep. hes weird, per se. will cuddle up to you and get you as close as possible.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Your Knight in Shining Armor

Kinktober 2024 Day 1: Whump Yandere Male Royal x Male Reader AND (separately) Yandere Male Dragon Hybrid x Male Reader CW: Painful noncon, blowjobs, minor physical abuse, verbal abuse, homophobia, internalized homophobia, bullying, kidnapping, minor character death, implied minor character murder, non-human genitalia, emotional trauma, angst, hurt with little comfort, humiliation, degradation, shame, a lot of crying, general yandere behavior, possessive yandere, whump, Dead Dove: DO NOT EAT Word Count: 3.5k (I decided to make my own list of kinks/scenarios for kinktober. I am only posting every other day and not everything is a full fic, though there are several full fics in the mix. This has been a labor of love for you my beautiful readers, please enjoy!)

The Prince of Thornhollow, Percival, was pampered and spoiled by his royal upbringing. He seemed to have been almost blessed. Not just by birth but also in ability. In contests with his knights, he was always the victor, and in his hunts, he had always been successful. The skill he possessed only served to grow his sense of superiority.

He also delighted in cruelty. All of this was unleashed upon castle servants. Since you were his personal servant, you suffered the most abuse by far. The prince tripped you, made fun of you, ridiculed you for the smallest things, and smacked you around whenever he was upset.

A few times he forced you to jerk him off and look at him while you licked the cum from his cock. He loved the humiliation in your eyes.

"You should be thanking me for letting you taste the royal seed with your peasant mouth."

It wasn't a suggestion. You had to thank him. He berated you afterward for being a girl and liking dick. It was an open secret that you fancied other men, and it was a favorite subject for Percival to pick at.

Sadly his sexual abuse didn’t end there. One time, when he was drunk on wine and you had been cleaning his chambers, he suddenly pinned you against the wall and kissed you roughly on the mouth. Sloppy and uncoordinated, you could taste the wine.

You flinched from his touch, sure that it was a cruel joke. And even if it wasn't your first kiss, you should have been from someone you loved, not someone you feared.

Percival grabbed your wrists to stop your squirming.

"Stop fighting, slut."

His words were harsh but his voice had a certain softness that you were not accustomed to from him. It was obviously the alcohol.

"You're gay, I'm an attractive man, I know you want this."

You yelped as he spun you around and grinded against your ass. You had no choice but to comply with his every whim... he was royalty. He nuzzled your neck and cooed into your ear.

"You're shaking so much, I bet your trembles will feel so good from inside you."

Percival pulled your pants down, followed by his. He took a gob of precum from his cock and massaged it into your hole.

"I bet you can't believe your luck, having the prince do this to you."

He slid a finger into you, followed by another. You wept silently as he squirmed inside your ass to stretch you out.

"I'm not a gay freak like you, this is just your reward for being such a good servant all these years. You deserve it."

The prince sucked and kissed your neck as he slowly pierced you with his cock.

You gasped for breath as the pain made you speechless. You would have fallen to the ground had Percival not been propping you up with his strong hands. There was a resounding smack as his nuts hit your ass with every thrust. You tried to squirm free, instinct overriding the attempt to obey a superior, but Percival wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"Just try to relax. You'll love it. I know you'll love my cock."

He nibbled on your ear and trailed kisses down your neck.

"Stop crying, you're being really ungrateful... it's starting to annoy me..."

He began going at a crueler pace in his frustration. He felt between your legs and you were barely even hard. He thought you'd love this, there were prevalent rumors that several knights had used you as a convenient cumdump and he was obviously better than they were. Of course, you were a virgin, and the prince was robbing you of your first time in the most brutal fashion.

After filling you with his cum he let you slump to the floor as he sneered.

He was still drunk, but his orgasm brought a bit of clarity, letting his elitism and internalized homophobia bubble back to the surface where it mingled with his disappointment and insecurity at the fact that sex with him wasn't enjoyable for you.

He was too ignorant to know that much better lube and stretching needed to be used while you were more relaxed. Percival wiped himself off with a rag and then threw it at you with a look of disgust.

"Clean yourself up, then get the hell out and don't let anyone know, or I'll cut out your tongue."

You wiped the cum and blood from you quickly and staggered to your feet before hobbling away while sniffling. He didn't do anything like that again, not even force you to suck him, but he did treat you worse for weeks.

His disposition finally went back to his normal level of disdain when he finally got his new set of enchanted armor. It was white and black, with silver and gold filigree. It became your most important set of tasks, fetching, polishing, and putting away his armor as well as helping him into it. Though even when it was perfectly polished, it was not unheard of for you to get a minor thrashing at the hands of the prince.

The life you had was pretty miserable. Even though the prince acted as a tyrant to his personal servant, you, he protected his and the crown’s image. It helped that the royal family's policies and skills at governing resulted in a fairly content lower class. Percival, especially, was beloved by many. The handsome prince with his blood red hair and muscular physique. He was quite charming and had drawn the affection of many noble ladies. This meant you couldn't find an escape or even speak badly about the prince because you would surely be ratted out.

So you went about tending to the prince as best you could and just hoping that he wasn't in a foul mood at any given time. But the prince wasn't the only thing you had to worry about.

There was a dragon-man hybrid, Rinvir, that had been attracted by a certain shiny gleam. He found that it was the valuable armor of the prince.

Of course, it may be good to have someone tend to the armor sometimes. Maybe they could polish other treasures for him. When he watched you shine the armor, he couldn't help but think how nice it would be to have your delicate human hands tend to his "sword" too. And maybe how good it would feel "sheathed" inside of you.

Rinvir wouldn't just mate with a human for such a flimsy reason, so he stalked you and the prince. Whenever he was hunting with you as his assistant, whenever you were in the training fields helping him put on his armor, whenever you were alone and tending to your outdoor duties.

He hated the prince but fell deeply in love with you. You were so kind and soft-spoken, so diligent with your work no matter what the task.

Rinvir wanted you even more than the immensely valuable armor. He still wanted the armor in his hoard, though, too. It would spite the prince nicely.

The dragon-man waited until a lovely clear day when you were just about to help Percival into his armor. He was screaming at you to hurry up as you were struggling with its immense weight. Rinvir swooped down and snatched you right up, armor and all. A flash of shiny blue scales was all the prince saw before you were gone. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment before collecting himself.

"But... that one was... mine..."

He had to have yo-, no, his... armor back. It was so valuable and had been forged partly by magical means. Luckily, his father, the king, agreed. It was an insult to their rule to let such a slight go unpunished.

Dragon-men were strong, but the prince had a good number under his command, his own talents, and the magic of the court wizard backing him up. He'd have his precious peasant back by any means! And this time, he'd not let silly shit like fear of rumors and homophobia stop him from holding you close in bed while rearranging your guts.

Oh, uh... and he'd have his fancy enchanted armor back... that was what he was really worried about... the armor... yeah...

Meanwhile, at the formerly abandoned lakeside temple that Rinvir called home, you were crying. A giant man with shaggy unkempt hair, huge blue wings, horns, and scales up and down his arms and legs had just made off with you. Surely he would eat you or kill you for sport.

"Shhh, calm down, delicate thing."

He took you to his underground treasure room and put the armor on a stand then gave his undivided attention to you.

"You're my new favorite treasure!"

He nuzzled into your neck and licked your cheek, causing you to shudder.

"I-I'm not a treasure... j-just take me back home!"

He laughed. That wasn't happening.

"And go back to that abusive royal? Not a chance. You're gonna be my mate."

At first, you were borderline hostile. Then you were extremely reluctant. But as the days and weeks turned into months, you became more and more amicable to your self-appointed boyfriend. Rinvir did so much for you. He set up a little garden so you could enjoy outside time because you always looked at peace during your brief moments in the palace gardens.

He caught food for you. Though you did have to prepare it, he was no chef. But you had to prepare fresh meat on the prince's hunts all the time. But now you got to cook it how you preferred and Rinvir left you the best bits.

When you were sore, he gave the best massages.

When you slept, he held you tight to provide warmth.

When it came to sex Rinvir was a patient and gentle lover. So far, you had only pleased him with your mouth and hands, and he had returned the favor. His cock was thick and slimy but you actually enjoyed how it felt in your hands and the taste wasn’t bad either. He never pressured you into anything and was content with letting you explore what you liked at your own pace.

He really was your savior. Your dragon in shining scales.

It had been three months. Three agonizing months without his manservant. His beloved. His father had ordered him to give up the search because at this point, it was getting costly, and the prince had matters of state that needed attending. They could always make new armor and still investigate in smaller numbers if there were solid leads about the dragon.

That wasn't acceptable to Percival. His servant was probably dead or, at the very least, being tortured by a beast. It had been so long, and there were no guarantees that you were still alive. Percival had to have closure and revenge. Even if you were alive, he'd need revenge for having to endure without you, and you had surely missed him. If you were still hanging on you probably felt abandoned.

His father wouldn't budge. And when, in desperation, Percival had told him he valued and needed your friendship, his father had laughed him out of the throne room.

Unfortunately for you, his father came down with a sudden case of "died in the middle of the night." It was assumed he had succumbed to his advanced age, though that wasn’t the case.

King Percival redoubled the efforts into finding that thief of a dragon. It took an extra month after his ascension to the throne, but he had discovered rumors of a shimmering blue dragon-man. Percival spared no expense. Took no chances. He surrounded the entire area with well over 100 troops and had hired an additional two mercenary mages to work alongside the court wizard. They had used great magic to keep the approach silent.

It was the middle of the night when they made their move. Rinvir heard them approach and woke you up quickly.

"I think the prince found us! There's a lot of them. I can't believe they got so close without me noticing!"

He held you in his arms and planned to fly off with you through the temple's tower window.

You were too frightened to speak, but you had confidence in Rinvir's ability to get you to safety.

Rinvir spread his wings and leapt from the window. But a beam of light made by the combined magic of the King's sorcerers pulled the two of you to the ground.

Percival's heart leapt at the sight of you. He could scarcely believe you were still alive. This was amazing. He'd take you back, marry you at once, keep you safe, and heal you from whatever trauma this brute subjected you to.

"SLOWLY!!! He has my betrothed!!"

Yes, he was quickly paralyzed with powerful magic, and you were pried from his grasp.

Your knightly king would have you soon. Percival would make up for every bad word he ever uttered to you, for every humiliation, for hurting you the first time the two of you had made love because he had assumed you were more experienced.

He felt silly for having brought a small army when all he had needed were a few powerful magic users. They brought you to him, and he hoisted you into one of the wagons that had been brought to take back the dragon's treasures.

Percival removed his replacement armor and pulled you right into his lap. You had been shocked into silence with everything having moved so fast. One moment, you were snuggled up with Rinvir, your love, and suddenly, you found yourself in the lap of the man who made you hate life. Who's touch made you want to vomit.

You tried to shake him off and escape his hold.

"M-my Rinvir... I got to see Rinvir..."

"Who? That glorified lizard? Has he brainwashed you!? They say the best way to break such magic is with the touch of a loved one."

His hands were all over you as he peppered you with small kisses.

"Forget that monster, you're safe now, I promise."

"Y-you don't understand! I love him! Please let us go!"

He held you tightly with one arm as he began stripping you down with the other.

"I know just the thing to break this bewitchment."

Percival figured even if you weren't under the power of a spell that giving you his cock and making you feel good would still help you get over your overgrown lizard. The king kept you on his lap but turned you to face him. He swallowed up all of your protests with a deep hungry kiss, his tongue rolling around your mouth as it invaded you.

You started thrashing more as his finger grazed your hole. He held you tight as he leaned over and grabbed a vial from a box underneath his seat. He had this wagon prepared for your rescue if it was successful.

“Please don't. J-just let me go back...”

He put the contents on his fingers and massaged them diligently into your hole, slowly adding more digits until you could handle four of them with ease. Then he slicked up his large cock.

"Don't worry. This will be so much better than last time. I'll be the only man you ever think of after this."

His mouth attended to your neck as he slid into you slowly, going at a slow pace and making sure he hit a spot in you with each thrust that made you shudder and keen.

Percival had to admit that it was his fault your first time was awful. But he had consulted books since then. If he had been this attentive the first time, he could have been bedding you for a long time. You wept silently as your body betrayed you entirely, Percival assumed that the pleasure was just too much for you. You came intensely, spurting cum all over his hard abs and chest.

He went faster, still careful to go at a pace that wouldn't hurt you, as he chased his own climax. Being inside you finally and seeing your face as it was so ruined by pleasure sent him over the edge, and he filled your bowels with his semen.

"See!? Isn't that so much better? We can do it all the time now! I forgot to tell you! I'm the king!!!"

He held you close, burying your face in his pecs as he rubbed your back.

"If anyone gives us shit for being gay I'll cut their tongue out."

Percival was worried because you kept shaking and sobbing, but when you cried about wanting to go back to Rinvir, his attitude went icy. He peeled you off of his dick and cleaned you up roughly but then sat you across from him.

He had to remind himself that you had suffered great trauma, and it would likely take time to heal since it clearly wasn't a mere spell that had been laid upon you. He had to remain kind to you because it wasn't your fault, and a king shouldn't treat his betrothed too harshly.

Besides, he still had to make up for all the torture he put you through.

But he was not known for his patience. As the weeks passed, he grew increasingly irritable and could no longer handle your ceaseless whingeing about Rinvir.

Percival arranged for you to meet the piece of trash.

He took you down to the dungeon where you saw Rinvir. He was encased in a solid block of some type of enchanted glass or maybe even magical ice, completely unable to move. You fell to your knees and pressed your hands to the surface of the material as you cried his name. You hadn't seen him since you were ripped from his arms, you hadn't even known whether or not he survived!

"He's still alive, you know?"

Percival leaned down and spoke softly into your ear.

"I was going to have him displayed in the throne room, but that would have been too cruel to you, and I do love you so."

The depraved king applied a special lube to his fingers. One that was guaranteed to make you cum hard.

"He can see and hear everything. Since you cry for him so much in my presence, it is only fair that he hears how I make you moan and cry in pleasure."

You were crying so desperately that Percival's words hardly registered at all. Only when he pulled down your leggings did you realize his intent. You squirmed and writhed as he put the lube in you, feeling a strange heat inside you as he rubbed it in.

He gripped your hips and lined up with your hole, your crying face looking down shamefully to avoid seeing Rinvir as Percival took you.

His cock kissed that spot inside you and instantly you started moaning. It was like he was pumping a surge of ecstasy into you with every thrust. Though tears fell to the cold dungeon floor as he fucked into you, you couldn't help arching your back and moving against every thrust in an effort to feel it more deeply.

It was something you had never done before while Percival "made love" to you.

Percival greatly increased the pace. He wanted Rinvir to hear the smack every single time he drove into you, wanted you to hear the squelch from the precum and lube as he pressed into you, and most of all wanted him to hear all the pretty little gasps and moans HIS fiancé was making that HE had caused.

Percival's throbbing cock spilled rope after rope of semen into you, causing you to practically collapse to the floor in a riot of bliss as you came. You buried your head in your arms in humiliation and guilt. Your loving king angled your head up and forced you to look at Rinvir.

"It probably hurts him a great deal to see you like this, don't you think? From now on, anytime you mention his name, I am going to bring you down here and breed you right in front of him."

Percival sneered evilly at Rinvir. He knew from your defeated expression that he had won. The king kissed and comforted you as he picked you up to take you to bed. You had a long day, and tomorrow there was a wedding to start planning... now that you were over your ex...

He left the mess that had pooled out of you right where it had fallen. Rinvir could look at all the cum he had put into you for a while as a reminder of what Percival did to those who would dare take what was his.

[tallulah477]

Hunting the Tawtute

Kinktober Day 19: Threesome

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader x Lo’ak

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Neteyam, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Primal Kink (Hunter/Prey Kink), Oral (female receiving and male receiving), P in V, Fingering, Handjob, Breath Play, Dirty Talk, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, Alien Genitalia, Slight Knife Play, Multiple Orgasms, Bukkake, Hair Pulling, Slight Humiliation, Slight Thigh Riding, Knots/Knot Play (but no actual knotting), Marking Kink/Biting

Word Count: 5.4K (of pure self-indulgent fantasy)

A/N: I don’t even know what to say about this. This one kinda like so fucking much got away from me. It’s like I went crazy, blacked out, and this happened. Hopefully some of you guys will like it too as much as I liked writing it.

Summary: When the Omatikaya raid an RDA outpost, you just barely escape the carnage with your life. You're stumbling through the forest when they find you, and the dark grins on their faces make shivers run down your spine. You try to run, but they’ll catch you - they’re little beautiful prey. 

Extra: Pretty, But Not Stupid

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Tawtute -  Human

Mountain Banshee - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Sevin - Pretty

Vrrtep - Demon

Paskalin - Sweet Berry (term of endearment)

The ground is shaking underneath you as you run, booming with the force of the explosions and gunfire racking the now nonexistent RDA outpost. You can still hear the screaming, both war cries and cries of terror, echoing through the forest as your tired legs carry you further and further away. 

You’re gasping for breath, heart feeling like it's going to pound out of your chest as you sob. You hated the RDA, they were mostly all power hungry assholes anyway, but some people in the outpost were good - innocent people who fled Earth just to get away from the horror there, only to be met with a fate possibly crueler here. All the cooks, cleaners, and medical professionals who just wanted a chance - all dead within minutes of the start of the emergency alarm that blared through the base. If not by the explosions, then currently being picked off without mercy by the Na’vi. 

You’re lucky to even be alive right now. 

You shake your head, trying to ignore how your heavy, panicked breathing is fogging up your mask and how you can barely see through your tears. You need to keep going. You can’t think about it now. Can’t think about the carnage you're running from and the people you’re leaving behind. You need to find safety. 

You run a little further, trying not to trip on any more upturned roots. You fell over one a little ways back, and your ankle protests the more weight you put on it, but the fear of being found and killed keeps you going. You quickly round another tree and stop, bracing your hand on the bark of the massive trunk and lifting your hurt ankle up a bit just to relieve the pressure for a moment. Your eyes hurriedly scan the area, trying to keep an eye out for danger you wouldn’t even be able to defend yourself against. Even if you did have some kind of a weapon (which you don’t, you barely had enough time to sprint away with your life as it was, let alone grab any kind of form of defense), you wouldn’t be able to win against the strength and prowess of one of the natives anyway.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips when your eye catches movement a few trees down from you. There’s a male Na’vi standing there, long braids still swinging around his shoulders from his abrupt movement, and he has an arrow notched and pulled back, strong muscles and chest bulging behind the bow as he steadies the arrow - the arrow that’s pointed directly at you. 

“Wait!” You yell, hands instinctively coming up to protect your face as if they could ever stop the Na’vi sized arrow. “Wait! Please, don’t shoot!”

The male stops, curious amber eyes locked on your trembling figure, and to your complete shock, he lowers the arrow. Why isn’t he killing you? The Na’vi kill humans on sight, they don’t hesitate. You should have been dead the second he saw you. But you’re not. He lowered his arrow, and for a brief moment relief and hope flood your chest. 

“I mean you no harm,” You call, voice shaking. “Please, don’t k-kill me,”

The male tilts his head at you and you watch cautiously as he puts his bow away, reattaching it to his back, before reaching up to touch his throat. From this distance you can just see the outline of a necklace. A throat comm, you think. He has his fingers pressed against the buttons and you can’t hear what he’s saying, but you see his lips moving as he talks to whoever is on the other line. 

A dark smirk curls at his lips as he speaks. He’s looking directly at you and whatever hope you had disappears as dread fills your entire being. 

You are going to die. 

You can’t stay here, staying still even as he’s watching you is a risk. If you’re going to die, you’re at least going to go down trying to live. 

You turn to run, making it just a few steps away from the tree before the canopy bursts above you, a roaring shriek piercing your ears as a large blue and purple mountain banshee descends down towards the forest floor. You scream, falling back on your ass as the dragon-like animal lands just feet from you, the wind from its strong wings beating over your body and making your hair whip around your face.

The banshee’s rider descends from its back, landing on the ground with a thud and disconnecting his neural queue from the animal. He stalks towards you, golden eyes gleaming behind a few loose braids falling in front of them, and he grins, long pointed canines biting into his bottom lip.

“Where you running to, sevin tawtute?”

With another terrified sob, you scramble to your feet. The second Na’vi’s low chuckle, despite being fairly quiet, rings loudly in your ears, and you can hear the footsteps of the first’s getting closer and closer to you each second. 

“Don’t do it,” The second warns, and you don’t even have the mental capacity to realize that he’s speaking to you in English. You’re already spinning and darting away in the opposite direction. 

You run as fast as you can through the dense Pandorian forest. They’re chasing you, you can hear their footsteps pounding against the forest floor behind you. They mock you, first just making quick yipping and whooping calls, communicating with each other in a way you would never even begin to understand. And then they switch to your language.

“Better run faster, human!”

“Getting tired already, baby?”

“Can you feel my breath on the back of your pretty neck?”

“We’re going to get you!”

Your sobs get louder, terrified as you try to push yourself harder. They sound so close, like they’re right behind you, like they could just reach out and grab you. But they don’t. They’re playing with you. They’re faster than you, their legs significantly longer than yours and more adept at running and navigating the forest terrain. They’re letting you keep going on purpose, finding glee in your terror and enjoyment in chasing their prey. 

Your ankle is aching, pain shooting from the twisted limb, and your running is quickly turning into panicked hobbling. You can’t do it anymore. Can’t do it - they’re going to get you. Without thinking, you dive under a slightly uprooted tree - the tilt of the base giving you just enough room to crawl under the trunk, thick roots caging you in and separating you from the two male Na’vi. 

The second you make it through, there’s a burst of movement as the long haired male slides in front of the opening, long arm sticking through the roots and reaching for you. You whimper when his fingers brush your mask and you try to scoot yourself further back against the dirt, but there isn’t much room. 

“Come out of there,” He says, voice soft like he’s trying to coax you out, but the underlining reverb of a growl taints the attempt. “It’s dangerous under there,”

“Yes, tawtute,” The other says, long legs visible from behind his brother’s upper body. “Much safer out here with us,”

You can’t help the anger and frustration that wells inside you as you hear the absolute lie they are trying to tell you. 

“Bullshit,” You spit.

The long haired male removes his reaching arm and peers at you through the roots, eyes alight with mirth. “Oh, you hear that, brother? Our little vrrtep has a mouth on her,”

The other male chuckles and squats down to peer at you through your self imposed cage. “And what a pretty mouth it is. Can’t wait to see what else it can do,”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. That sounded . . . suggestive. That couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like, right?

“What do you say, sevin? Want your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?” He asks, playful fingers lifting up the front of his loincloth slightly as if to tease you. And then, suddenly, there’s a new fear taking over. 

They don’t want to catch you to kill you - they want you. 

“My name is Lo’ak,” He continues, lifting his hand from his loincloth to wiggle his fingers at you in greeting. Five fingers, you notice. “You know, just so you know what to scream out later when I’m fucking you,”

More tears well up in your eyes, cascading down your flushed cheeks. “P-please. Don’t hurt m-me,” You beg, wide eyes pleading with the large blue men holding you hostage to show you mercy. “I’ll leave! I promise! You’ll never see me again,”

“She begs so beautifully already,” The other male says, nudging his brother’s arm. “She’s gonna sound so good when she’s crying in pleasure. Go ahead and try it out for me, paskalin. Let me hear you say it: Neteyam,”

Neteyam looks at her expectantly, golden green eyes dark from where his pupils have nearly completely taken over. 

“Fuck you,” You hiss. You try to put as much malice and ferocity in your words as you can muster, but Neteyam only grins at your curse.

“Yeah, tawtute. That’s the idea,”

Lo’ak suddenly moves, shifting over to the side of the tree and you panic at the abrupt movement, scrambling over and pressing your back against the roots on the opposite side just to be as far from him as possible. 

“Come on out, baby,” He purrs, eyes hooded as he stares at you. “Don’t you want to take a ride? Feel some big alien cock in your pretty, tiny pussy?”

You open your mouth again to shoot some more choice expletives at him, but all that comes out is a scream when the roots behind you rip and a large hand grips at your hair, dragging your body from its hiding spot and into the dimming light of the forest.

Neteyam hauls you up on your feet, fist tangled in your hair keeping you from running and grabs one of your swinging arms, pinning it behind your back. Lo’ak steps in front of you, tall and imposing at nearly twice your height, but you still try to fight, fight for your life and your freedom, and your hand smacks as hard as it can against his hip.

It doesn’t do anything to him obviously, you’re not even sure if he felt it, but all the fight leaves you in an instant when the large knife the size of your forearm waves in your face.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for us now, okay?” He says, tapping the glass of your mask with the tip of his knife as if he were trying to boop your nose. The tip of the knife travels down your neck, over your collarbone, and towards the center of your chest. If you were able to think correctly, you would be amazed at the control he has over the blade to not let it cut you despite your chest heaving with your frantic breathing. “Stay still now,”

The knife travels towards the valley between your breasts, taking the neck of your t-shirt with it and pulling it down and down until Lo’ak just cleanly slices through the whole front of it. Neteyam releases your arm now that you're not fighting against them anymore, but still keeps a firm grip on your hair. The ruined shirt slips from your shoulders and Lo’ak brings the knife back up to hook underneath the band of your bra, slicing through the material like it was paper and pushing the remnants of that off of your body as well. 

“Such a pretty little thing,” He muses, running the flat of the blade across one of your exposed breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as it presses against your heated skin. Lo’ak twists the knife and places the very tip of it at your nipple. The sharp edge makes you gasp, the bud starting to harden immediately at the feeling and you can’t help but feel mortified when you feel wetness pool in your panties. 

Lo’ak’s nose twitches, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as his large amber eyes catch yours, but it’s Neteyam that digs the metaphorical knife deeper, furthering your humiliation and making your face burn.

“Aw, is the cute little tawtute getting wet for us? We can smell you,” Neteyam laughs, dragging your head back further so he can get a good look at your face. “Look, brother. Look how flushed she’s getting,”

“You think that flush is going all the way down here?” Lo’ak asks, the tip of the knife leaving your nipple to tease your clit over your shorts.

“Rip them off and find out,” Neteyam suggests, and you start to wriggle again in his unrelenting grasp. 

“Wait!” You shout. Your neck is still craned up towards the sky, so you only feel rather than see Lo’ak undo your button and zipper. “Wait, please. I’ll do anything,”

“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees, looking down at your pleading face. His fingers latch onto one of your hard nipples and pulls on it, eliciting a sharp gasp from your plump lips. “You will,”

In an instant, Lo’ak yanks your shorts and panties down and Neteyam moves behind you to kneel on the forest floor, one knee pressing into the ground while the other acts as a stabilizer, foot flat against the ground. Neteyam’s grip on your hair is released as he grabs you by your hips instead, pulling you up to sit on his thigh, bare pussy pressing against the bulging muscles. 

The feeling of his muscles tensing under you makes more heat pool in your stomach, and your pussy is wet and sticky already as you squirm against him. Your legs fall on either side of his and even with him kneeling your feet still can’t touch the ground, toes just barely brush against the grass and only if you’re actually stretching to reach it. But the additional stretch just makes you push your cunt harder against his thigh and you whimper, not knowing what to do or how to move.

Neteyam wraps a restraining arm around your chest, trapping one of your arms under his and grabbing onto your other bicep, his large hand practically spanning the entirety of your upper arm and pinning it down. His other hand moves up to his mouth, long middle finger sliding between his lips, licking the long digit and pulling it out when it’s wet and glistening in the setting sunlight. He brings his wet finger to your core, dipping it between your folds and circling your clit. 

“So wet already, tawtute,” He whispers, lips brushing against the curve of your ear.

You whimper as he rubs you, dipping his finger down lower to gather more of your wetness and dragging it back up to tease small circles around your pulsing nub. When his fingers trail down again, it's to press at your entrance, and you can’t help the whiny moan that escapes you as his finger slips easily inside your leaking hole.

Lo’ak’s been watching you this whole time, crouching down to get a good, clear look at your glistening pink cunt, and the sight of his brother’s finger sliding inside of you prompts him to have some fun of his own. He stands, fingers moving quickly to untie his loincloth, the material loosening and sliding down his legs, flittering to the ground below him.  

You’re distracted, Neteyam’s finger is rubbing against your gummy walls, sliding in and out effortlessly while his thumb plays with your clit, so you don’t realize what’s so wrong with Lo’ak’s body until he’s directly in front of you - naked pelvis and even more naked center only a foot away from your face. 

Your eyes widen as you look at it, confusion written all over your face as you stare at the empty, flat space where his member should be. Lo’ak laughs at the bewildered look on your face and Neteyam mouths at your shoulder to hide his own grin. 

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” Lo’ak says. “I’ve got plenty of cock for you. It’s just hidden. I’ll get it out for you since you're a little tied up.”

His fingers reach down to rub at the empty space and you watch in fascinated awe as he plays down there, fingers pressing in harder and sliding against the hidden slit you hadn’t seen before. His fingers dip inside, eyes closing in pleasure for a moment before they flick back open, sultry hooded orbs locked on your own. 

“What the f–ahh!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut, back arching in pleasure against Neteyam as another of his fingers pushes inside you. They’re long enough on their own, the combined thickness enough to feel like a cock inside you already. 

When your eyes open again, they lock immediately on what’s happening between Lo’ak’s legs. There’s something poking out from the slit and it takes your scared and pleasure hazed brain way too long to realize it’s his cock. It’s just the head peeking out, the mushroomed lavender tip like a bright, slick beacon between his dark blue thighs. He grins when your mouth falls open at the sight, fingers dipping back into his wet slit and pulling out another inch.

Every inch of his cock has your eyes widening, the long and hard length now fully unsheathed and bumping against his belly. Blue skin and even darker stripes litter the shaft, small bioluminescent freckles scatter towards the top and lead to the light purple tip. A fleeting thought has you thinking it's pretty, the colors blending in beautifully with one another, but when you see the textured bumps decorating the entire length, the panic hits you again.

“Let me go!” You scream, fighting against Neteyam’s hold, but hold is firm. “It won’t fit! You can’t! It won’t fit!”

“That’s why we have to stretch you out first,” Neteyam mutters, mouth pressed against your shoulder. His third finger nudges at your entrance and you stop breathing when it pushes against your already stuffed hole. The stretch is intense, your small body struggling to take the invasion as his long finger pushes in beside the others. His thumb rubs lovingly at your clit, distracting you from the stretch and working up the pressure starting to build in your belly. 

Lo’ak strokes at his cock, shuffling forward until the weeping tip of it is inches from your face. 

“You wanna taste it?” He asks, his other hand gripping onto the bottom of your mask. 

You whimper, terrified at the prospect of him pulling your mask off, but can’t get out anything more than a stuttering, “P-please,”

“Be a good girl and hold your breath for me,”

There’s a loud hiss of air as the seal around your face breaks, and then you can’t breathe. Can’t even make a sound when he pulls the mask halfway up your face to free your mouth, letting the bottom of it sit below your nose as he pushes his fingers into the hinges of your jaw to pry your mouth open. 

The lavender tip of his cock pushes between your lips, the underside dragging along your tongue. You can feel every bump and ridge as it pushes in further, the texture both unusual and intimidating as it slides against the warm wet muscle. 

And then it’s gone, your mask replaced and the burst of oxygen rushing into your lungs makes you feel even more lightheaded than without having any oxygen at all.

“Good girl,” Lo’ak coos, hand once again gripping the bottom of your mask and leaning down to press a sweet kiss against its glass. 

Neteyam’s fingers are still working themselves in and out of your stuffed pussy, and you see Lo’ak’s ears twitch a second before you even hear it: the horrible squelching sounds your pussy is making as it rocks against his three fingers.

“Such a good girl,” He grins. He stands up, holding his cock steady and pulling your mask up again, the hiss of air mingling with the wet sounds coming from your drenched cunt. “Let’s go again,”

His cock pushes inside of your mouth again, barbed length sliding against your tongue and nudging the back of your throat. You gag, choking from both lack of oxygen and Lo’ak’s thick cock, and you can barely register the light and strangely sweet taste of his precum as it coats your tastebuds. 

Neteyam’s fingers are ruthless inside of you, curling and dragging against your gummy walls with skilled expertise and his thumb is practically a blur on your clit. When Lo’ak replaces your mask and air once again fills your lungs, it's only there for a second before you’re screaming and gasping, the coil in your stomach almost too much to bear as it tightens, threatening to rip you apart when it snaps.

Your screaming is cut off again when Lo’ak lifts the mask away, shoving his cock harder and deeper into your mouth until the glass of your mask is pressing against his pelvis and his cock has slipped down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you take it, legs shaking against Neteyam’s thigh. When it's replaced this time and air is once again allowed into your lungs, Neteyam’s teeth latch onto your shoulder, sharp canines digging into the tender skin. The bite brings about a sharp pain immediately followed by a flood of intense pleasure - your body jerks in his hold, shaking violently as the coil in your belly snaps. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, gushing against his hand as your orgasm rips through you without mercy. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Lo’ak grunts, fisting his cock with one hand while checking to make sure your mask is secure with the other.

You mumble a weak reply, but the words don’t make sense, they don’t even sound like real words to your own ears - and your ‘not words’ turn into a forlorn whine as Neteyam pulls his fingers from your still pulsing pussy. 

He tilts your upper body to the side, sliding most of you off of him except for your leg still draped over his thigh at the knee while your other foot presses onto the ground, leaving you spread wide. His free hand falls behind you, somewhere around his hip where you can’t see, and then something large and round shaped is nudging between your folds and prodding at your entrance.

“No,” You mewl. “Won’t fit,”

“Shh, be quiet, ma sevin tawtute,” He grunts, pressure pushing at your hole as he starts forwards. “It will fit,”

You take in gasping breaths as the pressure intensifies, dripping hole resisting the push as much as it can before relenting to the large male Na’vi’s wishes and the thick mushroom head of his cock pops inside. Neteyam groans when he breaches you, unwrapping his arm from your upper body and gripping both of your thighs with his large hands, hauling you up and in the air as he stands up.

Your back is pressed tightly against his chest, thighs spread open and vulnerable to Lo’ak’s hungry gaze as gravity pushes you down further on his brother’s cock. You whimper loudly, hands desperately gripping at Neteyam’s forearms as he impales you on him. The bumps on his cock drag without mercy against your sensitive walls, and your right leg shakes in his grip from the overwhelming intensity. 

It feels so good, so devastatingly good inside of you, the barbs and ridges sliding just right against your gummy walls and you toss your head back with a silent scream as he bottoms out, tip nudging against your cervix.

You’ve never felt so full before. It feels like he’s all the way in your stomach, cock barreling through your important organs and rearranging your guts just to make enough room for him to fit. You chance a look down, letting out a wailing cry that’s half pleasure, half horror when you see the large bulge protruding from your abdomen. 

“Fuck,” Neteyam moans. “She’s so tight,”

Lo’ak grins mischievously as Neteyam lowers his mouth to the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses there as he starts to rock into you. One moment he’s in front of your face, sending you a cheeky wink when you gasp as the cock inside of you hits just the right angle to brush against your special spot, and then the next he’s crouching down, textured tongue lolling out of his mouth and licking against your swollen clit. 

You squeal at the feeling of his rough tongue, textured similarly to that of a cat’s, lapping at the sensitive nub. 

“T-too much!” You cry. You can’t close your legs, Neteyam’s hands holding them firmly open as he thrusts harder inside you, and your hands push against Lo’ak’s head, but he doesn’t budge - large head staying put while his tongue continues to swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

When Lo’ak decides he’s had enough, he lifts his head, trailing kisses up your stomach starting just above the disappearing and reappearing bulge in your belly and up your chest, tongue laving over the swell of your breast and latching onto your nipple, sharp teeth nibbling on the hard bud as you yelp.

His lips wrap around it, suckling on it for a moment before pulling off with a pop. 

“You taste so good, baby,” He murmurs, reaching down to play with your clit. “Like the sweetest little treat,”

“Feel so good, paskalin,” Neteyam grunts, lifting your body up and slamming it back down on his cock to fuck into your harder. “Snug little pussy squeezing me so well. You were made to take Na’vi cock, weren’t you?”

“Oohh my goooooood,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming stimulation. “C-can’t t-take i-itt,”

“Sure you can,” Lo’ak teases, face so close to yours that in your haze all you can see is his bright golden eyes. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?”

Neteyam’s thrusts are getting sloppy, moans and grunts a constant source behind you, and he hisses a quick “Fuck, take her,” at his brother. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly pressed against Lo’ak, chest pressed tightly against his and Neteyam releases one of your thighs in favor of gripping your hip. Lo’ak’s hand cradles your released thigh instead, keeping you steady against him as his brother uses his new found leverage to pound into your tight cunt. Your arms instinctively wrap around Lo’ak’s neck, holding on for dear life as you moan and whimper loudly with the cool glass of your mask pressed against his collarbone. 

You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, and you can’t think about anything other than how impossibly full you feel and how good the ridges and bumps on his cock feel as they scrap and drag inside of you. Neteyam’s grip turns bruising, fingers digging into your hip and thigh as he fucks you harder. 

“Who’s pussy is this?” Neteyam growls, mushroomed tip pounding into your cervix. “Go on, tawtute. Say it!”

“Neteyaaamm,” You moan. “Please, please, please,”

Distantly, even through your hazy, fucked out brain, you can feel something thick and round prodding at your entrance, bumping and stretching you out even more with each thrust. You cum, sobbing as you contract tightly around him, body shaking in Lo’ak’s hold as his large hand rubs up and down your back soothingly. 

Neteyam pulls out of you with a tortured groan and your eyes flutter shut, pussy still contracting and squeezing and wanting - wanting his long, hard length inside of you again, wanting it splitting you open, and now that it's gone, you can’t believe how empty you feel.

Lo’ak lowers you gently to the ground, resting your exhausted body on the soft moss. You feel the way he pulls your thighs apart again, settling himself between them, what’s left of the setting sunlight filtering in behind your eyelids getting blocked as he hovers over you. 

“Stay awake, vrrtep,” He says, smacking your thigh lightly to wake you back up. Your heavy eyes peel themselves open, watching as Lo’ak braces one hand above your head while the other guides his cock to your core. You whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your dripping folds, teasing the tip against your clit before running it down your slit and lining it up with your entrance. “It’s my turn,”

The slide is easier this time as he pushes in, but still no less intense. Your tired and overstimulated body tenses at the intrusion, tightening around him as he spears you open with his thick girth. 

“Such a pretty demon,” He moans, pleasure shooting through his veins at the feel of your tiny body hugging his cock like it never wants to let him go. “Tempting us the way you did,”

His hips start up a gentle tempo, rocking inside you to help you get used to his size and letting you feel the pleasurable drag of his barbs against your oversensitive walls. 

You whine, denying his comment. “D-didn’t do anyth–”

He silences you with a sharp snap of his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts and leaning down further so his pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust. Already you can feel another orgasm barreling towards you, threatening to rip you apart the same way his cock is splitting you open. 

“Fuck!” You squeal, back arching as your pussy squelches between your bodies. “Oh my god, fuck!”

“Say my name, baby,” Lo’ak grunts. “Wanna hear you moan it,”

“Looo’aaaaak,” You moan, bliss clouding your judgment as your hips buck into his in return. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see Neteyam, standing just to the side, watching as his brother fucks your very soul from your body as his hand strokes along his raging length. Your eyes catch on something unusual towards the base of his cock -  a thick, round bulb that shouldn’t be there and he smirks as he sees you gaping at it, hand stroking down to the base and squeezing the thick engorged knot of tissue tightly, moaning at the sensation.

Lo’ak thrusts in you harder and you feel that same thick, round ball bumping at your entrance that you felt when Neteyam was fucking you. The same bulbish ball of tissue that must be the same as the one you're looking at right now.

“Great Mother,” Lo’ak groans, face scrunched up in pleasure. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad,”

“Don’t,” Neteyam growls, jerking forward as if to pull his brother away from you, but Lo’ak curls his body around yours protectively, a deep hiss of warning ripping from his throat as he bares his teeth at his brother. 

Neteyam freezes, hands up in surrender but he glares at the brother inside you all the same. “Don’t. We don’t know if her body can take it yet.”

Lo’ak grunts, resuming his thrusts. “I know. Just back off,”

His cock pounds you relentlessly, kissing your cervix and his hand reaches down to caress the bulge in your belly. He presses down on the bulging bump firmly at the same time that his teeth sink into the still unmarked side of your neck, making you scream, the blissful agonized cry echoing through the forest as you cream all over his cock.

He pulls out, groaning woefully like his brother did, and fists his cock furiously, aiming the leaking tip directly at your puffy, spent pussy. Neteyam does the same, crouching low and close, stroking his cock beside you as he aims for your chest. 

They cum within seconds of one another, shooting hot, thick stripes of pearly bioluminescent cum all over your body, covering your chest and lower half with their release. 

You can barely feel your body anymore, can’t move a single limb on your own, and, despite not having any use of anything, your body won’t stop shaking - oversensitive and overstimulated and completely satisfied in a way you never thought you could be. 

“Ready to head home, sevin tawtute?” Neteyam asks, breathing heavy as he recovers from his orgasm. He just came but his eyes are still dark and sinful, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Your exhausted eyes flick to Lo’ak only to see the same desirous expression. 

There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach as you close your eyes, listening to their dark chuckles as your body forces you to rest. The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is a low, deep voice say . . .

“You’re ours now,”

Extra>>>

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:10」 — j.yunho

» ateez menu | yunho menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ wereleopard!Yunho × fem!Reader wc: 3.3k summary: Yunho hadn’t been on a date in ages when he managed to land a date with his cute coworker, Y/N. Cue one awkward first date and a handful of other successful ones, Yunho feels like he’s starting to settle into his growing relationship. The only thing holding him back is that his girlfriend is so small and it drives him mad with the desire to pin her down and unleash his inner beast. He finally comes clean when Y/N asks him why they aren’t more intimate. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, reader is smaller than yunho by a lot mention of alcohol consumption, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: caffeine consumption (coffee lol), office dynamics, work relationships, coworkers to lovers, leopard mating habits in the wild (lol); sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: i had a lot of fun with this one and like i mention in the smut warnings under the cut, Yunho's cock is... less than human lol. if that bothers you, don't read this. I'm not called monsterfucker for no reason! i don't really have much else to say about this so thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), size kink, praise (f receiving), unprotected sex (use condoms pls), use of pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart, kitty, little one, etc), dom!Yunho, sub!Reader, Yun has a huge d!ck (because of course he does), biting (f receiving), scratching (f receiving), non-human genitalia (because he’s a werecat, he has a barbed d!ck. Does it make sense? No. Do I care? Also no. don’t like it, don’t read it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i’m not responsible for your media consumption lol), I think that’s all but just let me know if I missed something. kinks: Size kink + praise dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that? ❜❜

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Being a werecat had its advantages and its disadvantages.

For instance, Yunho was extremely agile, light on his feet, and fast despite his large stature. All positives in his book. He was always the fastest and most graceful in gym class. Everything athletic came naturally to him. 

The cons were it was rough on his dating life. In his teens, he didn’t even bother dating because he was too busy with school and sports but when he finished college and started working, dating became a strange and foreign landscape for him.

Until he met you of course.

When he first encountered you in the break room, he froze upon seeing your tiny frame at the coffee maker. He’d been working at the office for six months by that point and he’d never seen you before. The moment you turned away from the counter, stirring your mug of coffee, and your locked eyes with him, Yunho knew it was all over for him.

You were quite possibly the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, your light makeup and soft lip color. The cream and black button down blouse with sheer sleeves and the tight black pencil skirt that hit just below your knees, hugging and showing off your curves had him weak in the knees.

He was doomed before you even opened your mouth.

You quickly introduced yourself, stepping forward to shake his hand. The feeling of your tiny hand in his was one he would not forget easily. You were so small compared to him. It ignited within him the desire to protect you from the entire office. 

He learned you were part of the IT department while he worked in human resources. You were a transfer from another location of the same company and had just started a few days ago. Yunho took you under his wing immediately despite having only been there a few months but he knew if he didn’t act now, someone else might beat him to it.

You started taking your lunches together and sending messages back and forth. Yunho started to show you around the city when you were off work and you became fast friends.

That friendship for him blossomed quickly into a work crush but he never in a million years thought you might also like him and so when he overheard you telling another coworker about your work crush, his heart sank, thinking you had developed feelings for someone else.

It wasn’t until he heard you say his name that he perked up and realized that you liked him back.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to work up the courage to ask you out and when he finally did, you accepted his invitation for dinner immediately. He’d worried himself so much with you potentially rejecting him, despite knowing you had a crush on him, that he didn’t even have a plan in place for the date but he quickly mapped it all out, scoring a reservation at a really nice place near the river.

Dinner was amazing, the food was spectacular, the conversation was flowing as was the wine and afterwards, the two of you found yourselves walking by the river, admiring the lights of the city. Yunho wanted more than anything to hold your hand and when he finally took the plunge and took your hand in his, he was a goner.

The date ended with him walking you to the bus stop and you had ask him to bend down so you could kiss his cheek before boarding the bus bound for home. Yunho had ridden that high for the rest of the weekend leading into the following Monday and safe to say, he was already smitten.

One date turned into two, which turned into another and soon the two of you agreed to be exclusive. There were thankfully no rules in place that prohibited dating coworkers so long as the two parties weren’t in the same department which you and Yunho were not so it was allowed.

Months flew by and while your relationship progressed romantically and emotionally, physically was another story. That’s not to say you hadn’t kissed. Of course you had. Yunho loved nothing more than kissing you, especially when you were perched on his lap but it never progressed past that.

Yunho was afraid of hurting you. He was quite large, not just in stature. His nature as a wereleopard also meant that he was a great deal more… animalistic. He didn’t have normal human parts. Just like a male cat had spikes on its penis, Yunho had similar protrusions, albeit not as sharp but he knew that it couldn’t be comfortable, having those raking against the inside of your body.

On top of that, he was afraid he might be too rough with you. So as much as he didn’t want to, he often pulled back when things got a little too heated.

It was no different as he sat on your couch, having come over with take out on a Friday night, your designated date nights. That night it was a night in with take out and a show the two of you had gotten into together. Empty takeout containers sat on the coffee table along with a half empty bottle of wine and empty wine glasses.

The tv played softly in the background as you sat perched on Yunho’s lap, fingers twisting through his hair gently as your lips moved against one another, tongues meeting in a languid dance, neither seeking control. His large hands held your tiny waist as you moaned into his mouth, grinding lightly against him.

Yunho had started the evening with an erection, covering it with one of your blankets while you ate and watched TV but when you climbed on top of him, he couldn’t hide it anymore as it strained against his pants, begging for release. When you rolled your hips again, pulling away to leave a trail of kisses down the column of his neck, Yunho finally spoke up.

“Baby,” he croaked, voice hoarse from having not used it in a long while. “Hmm?” you hummed, kisses down to the spot where his neck and shoulder met, a sweet spot of his. You pulled the collar of his shirt away to kiss and nip at the spot, making his mind go blank briefly.

“I-” Yunho let out a moan as your tongue ran along the exposed skin. “I should probably get going.”

You raised your head, lips brushing against his ear. “Why?” you whispered. “Tomorrow is Saturday,” you reminded him. “We don’t work tomorrow.” You pressed soft, wet kisses on the underside of his jaw, one of your hands sliding from his hair down his chest. “You could finally sleep over,” you murmured as your hand continued its path, one that was heading right for the front of his jeans.

“I-I…” Yunho was grasping for a reason to not spend the night despite the fact that he so desperately wanted to. God did he want to spent the night so fucking bad. He wanted more than anything to take you to bed, make love to you and wake up next to you in the morning.

“Please spend the night, Yuyu,” you cooed softly, fingers moving to undo the button of his jeans. Yunho snapped out of it and firmly pushed you back, holding you steadily on his lap as he looked at you with wide eyes. You stared at him in confusion. He could only imagine what was going through your head.

“It’s not a good idea,” he finally said. Your expressions shifted from confusion to dejected as he rejected your advances yet again. ‘Fuck. Don’t look at me like that.’ He hated telling you no, especially when he wanted the exact opposite. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly. “It’s just…” he trailed off, knowing there was no easy way to explain his reluctance to you.

Never did he expect that you thought the problem was you.

“Do you not want me?”

Your question paired with the crestfallen look on your face made his heart break.

“You think I don’t want you?” he asked softly, moving a hand to cup your cheek. “Baby,” he said with a sigh as you leaned into his touch. “I want you so bad. I want you so bad it hurts,” he continued. “I’m just trying to protect you.” Your eyes opened to look at him. “Protect me?” you asked. “From what?”

Yunho let out a heavy sigh. “From me.”

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “I don’t understand…” you whispered. Yunho took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m not normal, Y/N,” he started, taking your hands in his, pressing his palms against yours before lacing your fingers together. “I’ve told you about the curse,” he explained, looking up as you nodded. “That you’re a wereleopard,” you replied.

“Well, there are things about me that look human and for the most part, I am rather ordinary,” he continued to explain, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But in some ways I’m quite… odd.” You let out an impatient noise, pulling your hands from his and pushing his shoulders back so he was leaning against the back of the couch, you leaning against him as you twisted your fingers into his hair, playing with his locks. “I’d say extraordinary,” you argued with a smile.

Yunho couldn’t help the smile that rose to his face. “You’re sweet,” he said softly, giving you a quick kiss. “But I’m serious,” he added, smile falling. “I wish I could explain it,” he continued with a sigh. “But it’s difficult.” You pressed a couple kisses to his lips and cheek. “Then show me,” you suggested. “Please Yuyu?” you added when he opened his mouth to protest.

“Baby, I don’t want to freak you out. It’s… weird.”

You frowned, sitting up and looking at him. “You are many things, Jeong Yunho, and weird may be one of them but that’s never deterred me before, has it?” you asked, tilting your head. Yunho smiled again, a chuckle rising up from his chest. “No, I suppose it hasn’t.” The smile returned to your face.

“Then just show me,” you repeated. “I promise I won’t go running for the hills.”

Yunho sighed and nodded, guiding you off his lap. “Just, promise me you won’t… freak out?” he asked as he started to undo his jeans. You nodded. “I promise, babe,” you replied, eyes wide with excitement as he undid his jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly. He raised his hips, pushing his jeans halfway down his thighs. 

You could see his cock already straining against his underwear, a dark patch of precum staining the fabric. It made your mouth water and soon you wanted more than to just see it. Yunho took a deep breath before sliding his hand into his boxers, pulling his cock free and your eyes widened as you took in the sight.

It was not what you were expecting. It was mostly human shaped, flesh colored with a bulbous head darker than the rest. A small bead of precum seeping out of the slit. The shaft was pale, veiny like most cocks but what set it apart from the rest were the small bumps around the base of the head. You leaned in closer to inspect, seeing that the bumps were actually pointed.

You looked up at Yunho. “Can I touch it?” you asked softly. Yunho looked surprised by your lack of disgust and that you were more curious and willing to touch him. He nodded, moving his hand to the base of his cock as you reached out a small hand, fingers wrapping around his cock just under the head.

Seeing your tiny hand on his cock nearly sent him over the edge but he managed to keep his composure as your fingers moved, dancing lightly over the head of his cock. “Oh,” you said, sounding surprised as you rubbed the pad of your finger over the spines of his cock. “I thought they would be sharper,” you murmured. Yunho was struggling to keep his breathing steady as you wrapped your fingers around his cock once more. He let out a hiss, head falling back onto the couch cushion.

Curiously, you leaned over, giving the very tip of his cock a lick, cleaning the precum that had gathered there. Yunho let out a gasp, hips bucking as you sat back up, giving him a cheeky smile. “It’s not weird,” you finally said. “I think it’s actually neat,” you added, glancing down at his cock. “I wonder what it feels like,” you added, fingers brushing the spines once more.

“You wanna find out?” Yunho asked, his voice dropping an octave. You looked up at him, meeting his dark gaze. Wordlessly, you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed out as he held out a hand. “God yes,” you exclaimed, taking his hand. He pulled you back onto his lap, pulling you into a kiss as you settled against his cock, the underside pressing against your cloth covered crotch.

“Fuck,” Yunho groaned as you kissed down his neck, fingers moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. Once you had it undone, you pushed the material aside, exposing his toned chest and abs. “C’mere,” he said, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into another heated kiss, tongue sliding against yours messily. “One second,” you murmured, pulling away.

Yunho watched as you climbed off him, tucking your thumbs into your shorts and slowly pushing them down, along with your underwear until it fell to your feet. Stepping out of them, you quickly removed your shirt and climbed back onto his lap as he shrugged his own shirt off, having removed his pants and underwear while you were stripping.

“Wait,” Yunho said as you grabbed his cock, lining the tip with your slit. “I need to prep you, baby,” he said as you sat down, sinking on his cock. You let out a moan, taking the head of his cock with ease. “Fuuuuck,” Yunho moaned, head falling back as his hands gripped your waist tightly.

He underestimated how wet you were as your walls enveloped him. “So big,” you moaned, pausing halfway down his shaft. “It’s okay,” Yunho cooed. “Take your time, little one.” You moaned, resting your forehead against his, your hot breaths mixing together as your body slowly adjusted to the massive intrusion.

As you sank further, taking more of his thick cock inside you, the bumps added to the sensation. Each inch stung, a dull burn as your cunt stretched around him. “Fuck, taking me so well, kitty,” he purred, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Can you take more?”

Without answering, you sank further until the tip of his cock was pressed against your cervix. You had taken every single inch without prep like a champ and Yunho would not forget it. Nor would he let you forget it. “Such a good girl, taking all of my cock. It’s like you were made for me.”

Your walls squeezed around him. “Fuck, you’re so tiny,” he said, as his hands moved up your sides. “Such a small little kitty taking my cock like a good girl.” The praise went straight to your core and you wanted more. As you raised your hips, you let out a strained moan, feeling the spines at the base of his cock head lightly rake against your walls.

“Oh holy shit,” you gasped, freezing. Yunho’s hands steadied you. “Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly. You nodded. “It’s different,” you answered. “But I like it.” You continued, more of his cock sliding out of you as the spines scratched the inside of your cunt. You sank back down on him, moaning loudly as the tip of his cock hit your ceRvix.

“F-fuck!” Yunho groaned, fingers digging into your skin as you started to move faster, bouncing on his cock, each pull dragging the spines against your walls and making you cry out. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely a much different feeling. It took ‘ribbed for her pleasure’ to a whole new level.

Your thighs started to burn as you tried your best to keep up but Yunho could tell you were getting tired and your legs were going to give out any moment with the way they were shaking. “Stop,” he gasped. “Let me.” Yunho easily turned, depositing you onto the couch on your back and was sliding back into your walls, as he pushed your thighs to your chest.

You cried out as he thrust into you roughly, feeling the spines on his cock drag against your walls. “Yunnie!” you whined as he fucked you against the couch, the room filling with the sound of his hips hitting yours with each thrust. Your hands moved to his back as he pounded into you, the feeling of his hard cock ramming into your cervix making you cry out.

Yunho let out a growl as he felt your nails raked down his back, the feeling spurring him on. Just as quickly as he started, he pulled out of you. He easily maneuvered you onto your stomach, re-entering you from behind and stilling there as he peppered kisses along your shoulder.

“Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that?”

You nodded eagerly but the moment he started moving, you were unable to keep quiet as he slammed into you roughly. He never expected you to actually keep quiet but he thought he might as well try seeing as you had neighbors. They would just have to deal with the noise.

You pushed back to meet his thrusts, making him groan into your neck. You cried out in both pain and pleasure as you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, his hips never faltering as he fucked you roughly. It was much more raw and animalistic than you’d ever had it but you loved every second of it.

“F-fuck,” you cursed. “M’gonna cum, Yunnie!” 

Your whimpers and moans urged him on, hips snapping against your ass with a renewed vigor as he pushed you towards your orgasm. “That’s it,” he breathed in your ear, letting go of your shoulder and leaving a deep impression of his teeth in your skin. “Cum on my cock like a good kitty.”

Your walls spasmed around him as you came with a cry of his name. He didn’t stop, chasing his own high as he thrust harshly into you until his own orgasm finally washed over him, releasing his cum into you with one final thrust. You let out another moan as his seed filled your cunt and he stayed there, making sure every last drop made it into your spent hole.

As you lay there, panting and covered in sweat, Yunho littered kiss after kiss along your shoulder, licking the spot he’d bitten down on before kiss up your neck and cheek as you turned your face towards him. “That’s why you were keeping from me?” you asked breathlessly with a chuckle.

Yunho laughed, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I thought you wouldn’t like it,” he admitted. “I can be an animal in bed, or in this case, couch.” You laughed again, letting out a sigh. “Next time, let’s do it on the bed,” you murmured. “More space.” Yunho chuckled. “Give me five and I’ll be ready to go again.” You lifted your head, turning to look at him.

“Again?” you asked, eyes wide. You were exhausted. How was he not? Yunho chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I told you,” he replied. “I’m not entirely like normal men. I’m a wereleopard.” He turned your face towards him, pulling you into a kiss as you felt his cock start to harden within your walls.

“And in the wild, leopards mate up to over two hundred times over a few days,” he added between kisses. He pulled back to look at you with a devious smile.

“And we have all weekend, sweetheart.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[xxsycamore]

╰┈➤ It’s Halloween night at the Crown caste, and you’re looking for some fun.

- William, Harrison, Liam, Elbert, Alfons, Jude, Ellis, Roger, Victor, Ring, Nica, Darius x f!reader

[ ◄ PART 1 ] - ◉ PART 2 - [ PART 3 ►]

• rating: 🔞 E (MDNI) • tags: Monsterfucking; Human/Monster; Mythical Beings & Creatures; Manipulation; Mildly Dubious Consent; Curse play; Non-Human Genitalia; Anonymous Sex; Masquerades; Creampie; Vaginal Sex; Size Difference; Size Kink; Power Dynamics; Power Imbalance; Power Play; Corruption; Multiple Orgasms; Dom/sub; Fondling; Manhandling; Near Death Experiences; Adrenaline; Flying Sex; Predator/Prey; Tail Sex; Tail Play; Possessive Behavior; Cervix Penetration; Oviposition; Eggpreg; Breeding; Unplanned Pregnancy • wordcount:  3,264 • masterlist

a/n: I got this idea for a story that is similar to Nine Nights, but without any plot or continuity between the different parts whatsoever. Unless, of course, you want to imagine that all of these take place one after another (poor Reader)... Monsterfucking is a new territory for me, so please bear with me. Once again, I tried leaving you with enough hints about who is who and I hope you can have fun guessing them lol

Dubcon warning: The reader seeks out physical intimacy on her own from the very beginning, however, some suitors use their curses' abilities on her without her being aware of it.

NEW: I made a playlist for this fic! It consists of 12 songs, one for each scenario. Enjoy <3

VISIONS OF TEMPTATION 2024/ KINKTOBER DAY 31: Non-human characters/traits

❝ MONSTER VILLAINS' NIGHT. ❞ (PART 2)

V. A fearful Demon King

"You're doing such a good job, little one. Keep rising and falling on me."

Dark shadows enfold the throne upon which the Demon King sits, with you seated on his large cock, steadily fucking yourself on it. His power is great and fearsome, making you dizzy when you try to look into the blurry memory of where you were just a handful of minutes ago or how it all led to this. You just know that if you were given the chance to go back, you'd still choose the same fate.

"Haaah… It's so big! I can't go any faster, my Lord… nghhh…."

From the moment you came to understand that the powerful being has chosen you to service him, you felt far more honored than scared. It all changed when he revealed his monstrous cock to you. With its shiny onyx-colored base and angry red head, mirroring the coloration of the twin horns on top of the Demon King's head, what intimidated you most was the girth of it. You were sure you wouldn't be able to fit something the width of your fist inside you, and you expressed those concerns to your Lord through a series of pathetic sobs, not failing to show him how much you wish you could, of course.

Then he did something unexplainable yet very simple at the same time. He used his clawed hand - the limb elegant despite its inhumanly size and black color - the pointy tip of his blood-red claw tipped your chin upwards so you could meet his demonic gaze. Looking into his crimson irises made all your hesitation go away in a flash, and suddenly you knew it was going to be alright.

Next thing you knew, you were piercing yourself on his length, letting it stretch you open and ruin you for everyone else. Not that it matters, you belong to your Lord now - the way he caves a room for himself inside you, you can only feel that he owns you now, body and mind.

The fluids seeping from his bulbous head acted like a lubricant that made your tight hole accommodate him bit by bit until he was all the way in, and you could only writhe in pleasure and haphazardly stroke your clit as the orgasms overcame you one after the other. The fear of doing something so indecent and selfish without his permission made you snap out of it, but your lord only kept the smirk on his face, encouraging you to keep going.

Even now that you've just let him know that the big intrusion inside you is preventing you from speeding up, he seems to be relaxing back in his throne, contently watching you struggle on your own. Your boldness grows with the need to push yourself over the edge in yet another orgasm, and while doing so, you reach for the black, curved horns on top of his head. You're clearly out of your mind to be doing that, so you search for his gaze that will decide your fate for you.

"I allow it."

A moan rips out of your throat, followed by a dozen blabby and brainless thank-you's. The new leverage works in your favor as you spasm and gush around the red-black appendage inside you, feeling it further stretching your walls on every rise and fall of your hips.

Without any awareness of the passage of time, it seems like you've been lost in this euphoric trance for an eternity before he finally grows bored of your pace. The demonic hand that he previously propped up his chin with is now snaking its way down your little human body, having a delectable taste of your soft parts with a squeeze there and there, before finally settling on your waist. His other hand joins too, and suddenly you have no power over your own movements - he grounds you to his lap easily, making you take his cock all the way in, before starting to move you up and down on his own will.

You feel light in his hold, your brain clearing out of any remaining thoughts that you previously had to keep into, when something still depended on you. The new wave of pleasure you're granted is stronger than anything you've felt, and you can only hear the obscene sounds of sticky fluids leaking from the place you're connected, your body locked in an eternal state of climax.

The last thing you feel is an overwhelming fullness deep in your womb that seems to go on forever, before you're finally settled down on the powerful being's torso, a clawed hand stroking the underside of your chin as your consciousness slips away.

VI. A deceitful Angel

The man dressed all in white has been standing out from the crowd all throughout the night, but he's even more remarkable now up close, you must admit. While he talks to you with his harmonically sweet voice, all you can focus on is the way his skin seems to glow under the scarce light of the eerily decorated hall. He's quite friendly, his golden eyes warm and inviting, as he suggests exploring the stairs to the roof of the castle.

You think nothing of it, sneaking off with him like a pair of juveniles as his laughter rings through the narrow spiral staircase. The night sky becomes a beautiful backdrop to his figure, and soon you're enamored enough of him to confess with a little chuckle that he looks like an angel. He gives you a mysterious smile, putting a slender finger in front of his lips, and in the next second a beautiful pair of wings spread wide on his back.

You're mesmerized by the sight, not believing your eyes - the angel-like stranger seems to be reading your mind at that moment because he evidently wants to show you just how real they are.

Namely, by pulling you by the hand where he stands at the edge of the rooftop, making you fall forward ontop of him, and right off the edge.

Your scream is sincere as you rapidly approach the ground, eyes squeezing shut as you say goodbye to your life, but the inevitable impact never comes. Instead, you're airborne, carried on the wings of the now laughing stranger who gave you the scare of your life. He never struck you as someone so cruel, but just as you're about to conclude he's no angel, you're given an even bigger reason to think that way. His wings suddenly strip their white color, feathers darkening as if covered by tar, until they become completely black.

"Are you enjoying the flight? I'd say the world looks far better from above. But we can make the sight even more enjoyable."

The sweet voice whispers those words close enough to your ear to send shivers, as you have no choice but to cling to him for dear life. His hands are free while yours are locked tightly around his neck, and he puts them to good use, moving them down your body and under the layers of fabric, baring you little by little.

"Ahh-Why-"

"Why not? You said that I'm an angel, didn't you? Maybe I just want to show you what heaven feels like, little bird."

If he's an angel, he's for sure a fallen one; someone like him has surely been punished for committing a despicable sin. Yet you can't help but moan at the way you're manhandled in the air, placed over his hot length, as it penetrates you in one long, slow thrust.

"Ahhhh! Nghh!"

You've never been in such a position, feeling so powerless but also feeling so good, your weight naturally falling on his cock with every flap of his wings. The celestial being cradles you close, giving you yet another illusion that he's being generous while in truth just using you for his own pleasure, a warm and tight sleeve to manipulate up and down in the air as he sees fit. Looking down makes you dizzy, as he practically holds your life in his hands, and you will yourself to concentrate on the growing pleasure that inevitably comes with the ordeal he puts you through, one that is greater than anything you've felt before. If you make it out alive, you'll remember it for the rest of your life.

"Aren't you enjoying this a lot, hmm? Don't you want to soar in the skies with me forever? How delightful will it be if you grew a pair of wings of your own, right here?"

He trails a deft finger across your back, dragging it upwards, right between your shoulder blades. It coincides with the fire inside you engulfing you to the point of no return, and you come undone on his cock, clinging to the body keeping you safe.

"It will hurt a little, but it will be all worth it. Don’t you want it? To help create a beautiful world by my side?"

As the angelic laughter rings in your ears, you feel a gush of liquid shoot inside you, and you begin to wonder why his offer seems so tempting at this very moment.

VII. A ferocious Minotaur

Going out in the garden for some fresh air shouldn't necessarily entail getting lost in the hedge maze, yet here you are.

As you turn yet another corner, fighting off the surprise of discovering a new dead end, you tell yourself that getting out of here can’t be that hard. Luckily the party is not ending any time soon, so maybe no one will notice your absence while you're on your own impromptu adventure. You won't speak of it afterward, that's for sure.

However, there's something entirely different that's been bothering you as you walk through the labyrinth-like walls of greenery, and that's the strong sense of being followed that you've been feeling for some time now. Not like eyes on your back, but rather, like a lingering sense of danger that you're about to run into any second now. You approach the next corner with caution, look behind, and relax enough to make fun of yourself in your head. But that only lowers your guard enough to make you scream with surprise when out of nowhere, a hand reaches for your shoulder.

"Hey, calm down. Are you alright? I've been trying to catch up with you for some time now. You appear to be running in circles. Are you lost?"

The man behind you is of large build, the pair of horns protruding from his brown hair only adding to his already admirable height, even if they're more sprawling at the sides of his head rather than from above - not unlike those of a ram. It's strange; for a moment there you had the feeling he'd been hunting you down towards this place in the center of the maze, but he doesn't seem to be ill-intended.

"W-Well- Not really, I just went out to get some fresh air, and-"

It must be pride that prevents you from accepting his help, or the fact that reaching the spacious center of the maze gives you the illusion of having made it halfway out of it without any help. Either way, the man lets out a short, wry laugh, almost mockingly so.

"I see. You are one of those who linger alone in here, looking for fun."

"T-That's not it! I honestly just meant to-"

The man steps in closer to you, his heavy boots coming to almost touch the tip of your own shoes now, and the difference in your builds is intimidatingly evident at that moment.

"How about this. You will try and make it out of here on your own. But if you fail, if I catch you - I will have my fun with you, there on the spot."

You can't believe yourself when the cold sweat beading at the base of your nape is not enough to stop you from giving it a thought. Maybe you were looking for some fun, maybe it was your frustration with failing to find fun that led you out of the hall to "take a breather" and get rid of the irritating arouse you've been feeling for some time - why hesitate just because you didn't expect to find your ticket to the entertainment here, in the garden?

The animalistic aura of the man and his respectable size gives you just enough push to make this fair, to actually give it your all before you fall into his hands. 

***

Well, you can't say that you didn't put up a fight.

The brown-haired man seems to enjoy pinning you down and restricting you just as much as you enjoy protesting in his strong hold, testing the strength of his toned arms. It's humiliating, feeling the cold cobblestone ground under your hands and knees, but you don't want anything to break the immersion of being his prey.

Though, he gives you enough to feed the fantasy as it is. Until you doubt it's a fantasy anymore. Not when something large and tapered and inhuman prods at your hole.

"W-What-"

"You stay quiet and take it, 'lil lady. That's your punishment for getting caught."

You feel your brain beginning to melt with the intrusion of the tapered head of his girthy cock, and you brace yourself for being this monster's plaything, hearing him groan above you as he bottoms out.

You need to think about making it out of the maze at some point too, but right now you're not very capable of that.

VIII. A possessive Dragonkin

(CW: oviposition, breeding, unplanned pregnancy)

You noticed something being amiss the very second you entered the room. This is his territory, that much is certain - and you let him walk you in here willingly. As his grip around your waist tightens, tongue long since down your throat in a breath-stopping kiss, your half-lidded eyes catch hazy glimpses of the space. The moonlight seeping from the windows helps you make up the contours of piles upon piles of objects of various shapes and colors covering every surface. Most of them shiny, intricate, antique, scattered around without order yet clearly kept with purpose.

At the very center of it all, you're being undressed by restless hands that seemingly want to reveal way more of your skin than is necessary for a simple, short-lived tryst between strangers. You expect his touch to be cold, but every part of you becomes scorching hot under his fingertips. His skin is smooth as it glides against yours, the moon making it glow almost, as he aims to maximize the contact between your bodies.

You want to touch him back, but something long, strong and scaly wraps around your middle, lifting you up with ease and suspending you in the air. Is that his... tail? You kick your feet at the loss of gravity, afraid that he will drop you, but he simply watches you squirm and struggle with his slitted icy-blue eyes.

"Mine."

The sudden pressing of his cock against your drenched entrance distracts you from this strange surge of possessiveness. Your limbs tremble as he bottoms out, the blunt tip of his appendage brushing against your cervix and sending electricity through your writhing form, a mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelms your senses.

With every thrust, it becomes easier, as your body not only becomes more pliable towards his size, but it also begins to crave more. It's like the precome smeared on his tip numbed your cervix, because you suddenly don't mind the feeling of him knocking on it on every thrust.

"Mine."

The whisper is followed by a grunt, and it makes you look at the stranger's face again. He's looking at you, yet it's like he's not seeing you; fixated on something underneath the surface, even his mantra of possessiveness is voiced out solely out of his own necessity to say it and not directed towards you. You reach out a hand and brush it against his pale, smooth cheek. Your fingertips graze blond hair locks and aim higher up, where a pair of pointy horns stand tall on the top of his head. They're translucent and blue in color, as if cut out from pure sapphire, and you're mesmerized by the sight, by all of him. Even if his tail wraps snuggly around you to keep you in place, his pace is rather rough, and one particularly sharp thrust has you grasping at those beautiful horns for support.

You're rewarded with a growl, and the sound of it makes your insides squeeze around the thick cock that continues to mercilessly pound your cunt. In a haze, you barely notice how the very tip of his tail snakes its way towards your clit and begins to stroke it.

"Ahhh!" You throw your head back as pleasure rocks your body, a powerful climax ripping through you. As your mind blanks out, you register your need growing tenfold despite having just orgasmed. In answer, he doesn't as much as slow down his thrusts, giving you exactly what you want.

Suddenly, you begin to feel a strange bulb at the base of his cock that presses more and more into your entrance, as if moving higher. The rational part of your brain, barely functioning, sends worrisome signals, but the part that wants this easily overpowers it. You don't need to understand it. You only need to think of the undiscovered pleasure that awaits you with that delicious stretch. Your walls pulsate helplessly around it, an itch that nothing else would be able to scratch, you're ruined for everything else at that very moment. The bulb slowly moves higher, making its way to your bruised cervix, until it finally presses against it, firmly.

There is a sense of resistance for a second, until finally, something pops inside. Tears of overstimulation gather in the corners of your eyes, and you feel something small and rounded nestling deep inside, in your uterus. It makes you orgasm on the spot, body thrashing around in the strong hold you're being kept in, as your vision turns to white for a mere second.

A gush of liquid follows, and you open your eyes to see the one doing this to you breathing rapidly as he too reaches his orgasm. His seed floods you, seeping into your dilated cervix without anything to hold it back, and drenches the egg resting in your womb. A rush of realization goes to your fucked-out mind and you just know, with every cell on your body, and by some ancient design, that whatever he put inside you has been fertilized successfully in that very moment.

"Mine."

You hear the wicked mantra leave his lips one last time before you pass out, and you briefly have the opportunity to worry about your future. Is he going to keep you here forever? Or maybe your purpose will end with expelling the egg once it finishes its growth, to add another treasure to his collection. You can't help but wonder, when he says "mine", why is it that you don't mind whether he's referring to you or the good incubator that your womb makes?

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison  @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou  @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita @raeraeks @ethereal-blossom @valkyyriia @candied-boys @ludivineikewolf Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[cowboywithacunt]

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CONTENT WARNING ;

This blog is an 18+ only kink/nsfw blog. I'm going to be posting explicit text and images. Please be aware that some of my kinks may be triggering to others! A full list of my kinks and limits are under the cut.

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RULES BYF ;

🐄 DNI: Men DNI blogs, detrans/misgendering/trans fetishization blogs run by cis people, cishet men, weight loss/thinspo blogs, feederism blogs, MAPs, minors and ageless blogs

🐎 My asks and dms are open to anyone! Please respect my boundaries, and don't send me stuff that involves kinks I list as a limit. Also be aware that I might not always respond! Sometimes I just ain't got the energy, don't know what to say, am offline, or just aren't interested at the moment. I'm fine with sexting, pics, and roleplaying. Do not message me several more times if I don't respond to your first message.

🐄 I block liberally! It's nothing personal, just how I curate my experience. Please don't circumvent blocks for any reason.

🐎 Feel free to claim an emoji, but I will remove you from the claimed emojis list if you don't send anything for a long while. It's nothing personal, just a way of keeping organized! If you start sending asks again I'll put you right back on.

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INFO ABOUT ME ;

🐎 I'm Harvey! 22, transgender (FtM), he/him, bisexual, country boy who's learned to embrace it as a thing people are into lol. Currently living on the west coast, originally from Georgia. I'm fat and hairy and masc, take it or leave it. 5'5". Deer boy tbh 🦌

🐄 I'm strictly masc, have been on T for about 4 years, and I got top surgery done last summer. I don't have bottom surgery, and probably never will.

🐎 I'm happy to be a dom or sub for any and all genders! I enjoy both roles equally. Same goes for topping and bottoming. I'm about as versatile as a guy can get!

🐄 Asks and dms are open to anyone who's interested!

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KINKS, FETISHES, ETC ;

🐎 CNC; includes rape play, dubcon, somnophilia, intoxication, primal play, and kidnapping.

🐄 Fauxcest; may include some ageplay elements, such as MILFs/DILFs, cougars, etc.

🐎 Humiliation and degradation; includes exhibitionism, voyeurism, pet play, free use, force fem/masc, misgendering, and detrans.

🐄 Monster fucking; werewolves, vampires, tentacles, you get the picture. May include non-human genitalia references.

🐎 BDSM; mostly pertains to bondage, but some light impact play might also be present. Nothing beyond spanking or slapping!

🐄 Overstimulation and understimulation; too many orgasms and not enough orgasms. Edging included in this.

🐎 Breeding; including impregnation of others, not of myself.

🐄 Misc; wilderness sex, cowboys/rednecks, putting city assholes in their place, T4T, bears, butches, sex toys, fighting for dominance, light gun/knife play, medical settings, older men/women, trans supremacy, furries, leather. Open to trying new things!

🐎 I do not tag any of these on reblogs! If you genuinely cannot stomach one or more of these things, just do your mental health a favor and don't follow me. Keep yourself safe!

🐄 Please keep in mind that all fantasies I post about are in the context of consensual roleplay between adults.

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LIMITS ;

🐎 Heavy blood, gore, death, necrophilia.

🐄 Scat, watersports, emetophilia. Very light omorashi stuff is fine.

🐄 Choking, beating.

🐎 Detrans/misgendering directed at me.

🐎 DDLG and similar kinks that focus on infantalization.

🐄 Race play; if someone wants to call me a stupid little white boy or something, that's fine, but anything even edging towards white supremacy isn't cool with me

🐎 It's okay if you're into the above things! I won't yuck somebody's yum. You can follow and interact. Just please don't send me asks or dms involving those kinks, and be aware that I may not follow back if you post a lot of one of these.

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TERMINOLOGY FOR ME I'M OKAY WITH ;

🐎 Sir, mister, bitch, faggot, whore, slut, masc terms, sweetheart, darling, buck

🐄 Dick, cock, t-dick, clit, cunt, pussy, chest, hole(s)

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TERMINOLOGY FOR ME I'M NOT OKAY WITH ;

🐎 Daddy, puppy, fem terms

🐄 Tits, boobs, vagina, front hole

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If you're not sure about something, just ask! I don't bite!

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Reforged

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @moonlightcrazyphoenix (who you should all give a huge thank you to for letting me go wild and absolutely cook with this one). Dabi was the first born prince of his father’s kingdom, and then his magic failed. Now he is nothing but an unwanted specter who haunts the castle halls, with no hope of a future ahead of him, save maybe his youngest brother someday sitting on the throne instead of their father. But when a border skirmish brings refugees into their castle and a new practitioner so powerful he is knighted nearly on the spot into his life, that absence of hope begins to wane. 

Contents: Royalty AU, Fantasy AU, minor character death, suicidal thoughts, BDSM, master/slave dynamic, impact play, intercrural sex, cumming untouched, grinding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, size kink, degradation, humiliation, praise kink, genital piercings, non-human genitalia, double penetration, anal fingering, anal sex, blow jobs, cum swallowing, aftercare. 

Word Count: 37,035

The only thing worse than being the former crown prince, is being the former crown prince that has to convince his own fucking guards to let him go to the throne room when he hears that there's been another attack. 

"Your father said that you shouldn't concern yourself with matters of state," The harpy man tells him, his wings a red cloak along his back. 

His father, the title makes him want to risk sparking up the barest embers of magic in his blood and try to destroy them both, doesn't think he should know about matters of state or any other kind of business in the kingdom because he won't have any part of it. He just wants him to learn how to melt into the background as his siblings are at least able to be used for a purpose. Fuyumi will be married off to some other kingdom to make certain that theirs grows. Natsuo will become the court medic once his schooling is finished, ensuring that there is no one that the royal family has to rely on for their health. And, of course, Shoto will be king some day, his magic outpacing all of theirs by miles. Dabi, now so named because his magic burned out when he was still just a child, is useless. He has no great magic to his name, his body cannot be trained to become a revered warrior, and his burns make him far too ugly for any noble of another kingdom to ever want to take him as a spouse. He has no value, so in his father's eyes, the least that he can do is pretend to not exist at all. 

"I am still a member of the royal family and a citizen of this kingdom, Takami." He snarls, pushing past the knight. "If there was another attack, I want to know about it." He hears the shorter man sigh but he doesn't dare try to stop him again as Dabi enters the chamber and moves off to the side of the dais at the front of the room. Only his father, Shoto, and Fuyumi have chairs there, the latter two much smaller and further off to either side of his fathers, but both of them are sitting there. Natsuo is nowhere in sight, but he thinks that he can chalk that up to the fact that some of the villagers who have come to speak are already at least partially bandaged. If they came with more people to make their report and if those members of their traveling party are in worse condition, then his brother will be in his ward making sure that they are receiving care. 

A man with wild brown hair is standing at the front of the group. His clothes are rumpled, frayed on the edges, creased, and there are smears of dirt clinging to them, but the cut of the outfit and the material of it tells Dabi that he must have been a merchant with a decent to moderate income. Clearly one who had enough standing in the village to be appointed the speaker for them as he addresses his father. 

"--three dragons, one with scales of bronze, one as black as pitch, and one as green as the hills that they decimated. They arrived just as sunrise began, hiding in the long shadows that were cast across the land, and they destroyed every farm, every field. They tore up the roads and ate our livestock." 

"Did the creatures speak? Were they sent by their master?" 

"I do not know anyone among us who conversed with them." 

"Did they retreat of their own accord?" His father presses. 

"No, your majesty." He half turns and gestures someone forward. From the crowd comes what looks to be a farmhand with wild white hair that is barely being contained by a tie, broad shoulders, pale skin, ruby red eyes, and scars cut in over his eye and one lip. He is missing three fingers on one hand and has a rope of burn scars going down his other arm that discolor his skin to a deep reddish color unlike the purple hue that Dabi's show. "This young man," and yes, even with dirt on his face, he does look younger than himself. Maybe Natsuo's age if he had to guess, "Tapped into a wealth of magic as they came for his farm. His destructive talent was able to injure the silver dragon and they fled." 

That has his father's eyes going sharper, interest piqued. "Where did you learn to hone your talents, boy?" 

"I did not." The farmhand's voice is raspy, like he hasn't spoken in several days, but it does not waver and his spine does not bow in the wake of having all of the king's attention on him. "I was cornered and I wanted to protect my land. I would have done it with a pitchfork if necessary, and then I felt it well up inside of me. It withered everything I touched." 

His father considers this. "As the damage to your village is being assessed and repaired by our druids, you will remain in an encampment inside of the palace grounds. You, young man, what is your name?" 

"Tomura Shigaraki, your majesty." 

"No member of my kingdom who can do such damage to a dragon will go unassessed. You will be accompanied by my knights to our scholars. Have you any family?" 

"No, your Majesty. I was an orphan from Ylunburg. I turned eighteen last spring and made my way to Ontsall to make a life for myself." 

Well, that guy is fucked. Or should be thrilled. Depends on how much he liked being a farmer because he definitely won't be one anymore. If his magic was really that strong, then he'll be part of the guard in a matter of days. If he can prove his magic can stay that strong consistently and it wasn't just it awakening for the first time that drew out such massive power, then he might even end up like Takami and the other guards that his father keeps closest to ensure that they always have their most dangerous resources close by.  His father starts giving more orders about where he wants the encampment to be set up, the number of soldiers and druids that he wants taken to Ontsall to see to the rebuilding efforts, and Dabi is bored again. He doesn't have anything to do with this and this simply means that his father will be in a foul mood for the rest of the week and that both of his brothers will be painfully busy until this matter is seen to. Which means that he's better off going to his chambers and occupying his time pretending to be a scholar than it will be spent shadowing them where he might distract them from their duties and bring his father's ire down on himself. 

Dabi turns and leaves as orders are still being doled out, and Takami, for all his protests before, doesn't even bother to shadow him. What assassin worth anything would try to kill the discarded prince that the king would pardon them for dispatching when the deed was done?

///

Dabi doesn't pay the refugees much attention for a few days. They are being integrated the best they can be on the castle grounds. Most of them are farmers, and they take wagons out to the nearest neighboring fields to help do the day's work there, before coming back to meals prepared by some of the additional refugees and their own kitchen staff to help ensure they are doing well. Natsuo and other healers make certain that no one is severely hurt, and Dabi is bored. He is almost always bored, but at least he's able to be bored without a shadow for a few days because Takami is apparently off assessing the farmhand. He would rather be bored alone than bored with that fucking bird following him around and talking his ear off. He was an orphan too, and he can't shut up about how happy he was to be taken in by the crown and given purpose. Dabi has set his wings on fire more than once just to shut him the hell up. 

But apparently five days of a reprieve was all he was going to be able to get as the harpy barely knocks before entering his chambers. Dabi is just glad he's sitting at his desk reading instead of lounging around in bed so he can at least pretend to be busy with other things. "I will have you thrown in the stocks for two days if you enter my rooms without knocking again, Takami." 

"My apologies, your highness." He says without an ounce of sincerity and far too much cheerfulness. "But you won't have to suffer my company much longer." 

"Oh? Is my father finally having you tarred to match your garish feathers?" 

"No, I'll be going out to help patrol the border after such a brazen attack. I'll be leaving immediately, but I wanted to take a moment to make sure that I introduced you to your new guard." Dabi finally looks up as Takami waves in the other person lingering in the doorway. The farmhand from before must have had more natural ability than Dabi even thought he might because he is cleaned up. His long hair is tied neatly into a pony at the base of his neck, and he is wearing the same gleaming armor as Takami, his spine straight, and his injured hand must have either been healed or new arcane prosthetic fingers must have been added to help his gloves fit correctly on both hands. He definitely looks more handsome like this and certainly looks to be Natuso's age now that he's closer to him. "This is Sir Tomura Shigaraki, the newest knight in your father's court." 

Dabi snorts softly, but he's not expecting Shigaraki to address that. 

"Is there something amusing about this, your highness?" 

He does his best not to bristle. "You've spent at least five minutes with the pigeon. You can't tell me that it's not a joke after that." 

"Ignore him," Takami says, turning to the new knight. "He's always saying nearly treasonous things. He's bitter, but his father considers him harmless. You only need to ensure he is either in his rooms or that you're accompanying him when he moves throughout the palace. Otherwise, you're free to go about whatever business you please within the castle walls." 

"...I see." 

Takami shrugs at the other's tone and then waves at Dabi over his shoulder. "See you around, matchstick!" Before he exits the room. Tomura Shigaraki closes the door behind him and the wards lock into place, sealing them off so that their voices will not carry past the door and so the small gem sat at his throat will glow if anyone tries to enter without his permission. Shigaraki stands with his hands behind his back in front of the door, at his post the way that no other guard has ever bothered to do for him once he woke from his coma. They had all known their lives were of more value than his, and their time could be better spent doing things besides watching after the worthless spare prince. Shigaraki will pick up on that soon enough and leave him alone for hours at a time, only coming in to follow the servants who bring his meals or when Dabi has to signal to him to open the wards that his magic is too weak now to do himself. He is more a prisoner in this castle than a prince. When this knight learns that he is nothing more than his jailor, he will stop being so attentive. 

It's quiet for several hours as he goes back to his reading, but when he finishes his book and stands to return it to the shelf, Shigaraki speaks again. "It is a joke." 

"Excuse me?" Dabi wasn't expecting him to speak, let alone respond to his barb from earlier. 

"This position, your father's guard. It's a joke. He couldn't bring his own magic any higher so he finds those without anyone else and brings them into his circle and elevates their positions. All of his guards are orphans from the war with the Demon King and his dragons. They worship him because he offers them status and a brotherhood while he makes an orphan of his own firstborn son through his neglect. It is a joke, and you should be so lucky to have the last laugh." Red eyes on his, unwaveringly. Dabi may flirt with words that could be construed as treasonous, but no one in this kingdom considers him a threat. Someone powerful enough to be knighted in just five days since his magical abilities awakened would be taken much more seriously than him. 

"Do not speak about my father or this kingdom in that way again, or he will have your head." 

"But not you?" When Dabi doesn't retort immediately, Shigaraki keeps looking right through him with those too-sharp eyes. "Because your word doesn't mean as much to your father as one he hardly knows would? Because mine comes laden with magic?" 

Dabi doesn't deign to reply to him, huffing softly before he turns to his bookshelf again. Why bother telling the man something he already knows to be true?

///

Tomura Shigaraki is infuriating in a way that none of his other guards have been before. For one, he actually comes to his room each morning when Dabi wakes to ensure his meal has been brought in and he's awake at a reasonable time. After two weeks he starts to come and wake Dabi earlier than he used to, well before his breakfast is brought and makes him come outside with him as he trains the forms that the other knights must have taught him. 

"Your training is not my problem." Dabi snaps at him. He may not have a real position in the kingdom, but he is a prince. He gets to do what he wants, he doesn't have to follow the whims of his servant.

"You are going to rot away into nothing in that bedroom." Shigaraki tells him. He, Dabi has surmised, hates to wear his armor. It impedes his speed and he doesn't need to be slow when his magic works when he has contact with the thing he is looking to destroy. He has opted only for the uniform tunic and pants, some leather bracers, and a short sword on his hip if he has need of it. He will wear the armor when he is expected to attend court, not that he ever will be while he's assigned to his babysitting, but whatever. 

"Then let me rot. At least the bed will be a comfortable tomb." 

"You are pathetic." 

Dabi's face burns at the man's insult. Everyone in his kingdom thinks that, if they bother to think of him at all, but that doesn't mean that he should be spoken to without even the barest bit of respect. "I am your prince--" 

"You have been discarded and seek to make nothing of the station you were left with. You do grow your mind, but to no end. You have all of the wealth and ability to create a new life for yourself within the confines of the enormous shadow your father has left for you, but you do nothing. I will not pretend to guard someone who so blatantly tells the world that they believe their life is as worthless as all of their naysayers do. You will find something worthwhile to occupy your time, or I shall occupy it with my own activities." He continues to move through his forms, and Dabi can see the rippling of his muscles beneath his clothes. He is thin, weak, his training stopped when he was ten years old, and the training he did for himself stopped when he burned as his magic burst bright one final time before turning to only the smallest of embers. "When you were a child, they said that you were the jewel of the kingdom, did they not?" 

"That jewel shattered a long time ago." He hisses. 

"So?" Shigaraki turns to level him with that look again. The look in his eyes that Dabi doesn't know how he hides from his father. The look that tells him that he blames the crown for the war, for whatever battle took his parents from him, for them not having the people in Ontsall to protect the village that resulted in him being trapped here as a knight instead of carving out a life for himself as a farmer on the land he was so desperate to protect that he awoke magic in himself at nineteen. A look that tells Dabi that he hates him as much as he hates the rest of the royal family even though he is capable of doing nothing-- "Diamond dust can still return people to life." 

He turns back to his exercises and those words sit with him for the rest of the long day. 

///

Dabi has not had to consider what he would do with his life for a very long time. He thought that he would just be this, a prisoner in his father's castle, trying to make himself small and unnoticed until Shoto was old enough to be crowned. When he takes over, he's already told him that he'll be free to do what he pleases. If he'd like to go on to become a scholar, then he will be able to do so, if he'd rather just move to one of their country estates to live out his life in peace, start a business, master an artistry, marry, whatever he pleases. He's promised similar things to each of them. He doesn't want to use their lives as tools the way their father has. He wants them to be happy. It's to that end, that he has been trying to delay Fuyumi's potential marriage as long as possible. She doesn't want to be sent off to some other kingdom to push out babies like their mother was. She wants to be a scholar far more ardently than Dabi does. She would become a teacher if she were able to. The children of other nobles need to be taught. She could do so without seeming to lower her station. Natsuo does want to be a healer, but he wants to be a field medic. He wants to go out and make sure the soldiers that are actually fighting on their borders as the Demon King continues to try to spread his influence to this half of the continent are taken care of. He doesn't flinch at the potential danger. But Dabi is just... nothing. He isn't anything worthy of attention or consideration. He has no ambitions to pursue when his father no longer controls his life. He just wants to... be allowed to exist. He doesn't want to have the shame of being the broken prince forever hanging around his neck. But those thoughts are something soft and weak that he will not lay bare for anyone else to see lest he end up mocked for them again. So he keeps his mouth shut and goes to visit Fuyumi. 

She often ends up locked in her room as well when she's not being paraded around to other visiting royalty and potential suitors. She studies and practices her embroidery. Her magic is the same as their mother's, as Natsuo's, imbued with a near unbreakable preference for ice than any other form. And since she is not to ever be a warrior, she is expected to use her magic as an artform rather than a weapon. She isn't a dressmaker, but she works with them closely as they design her elaborate wardrobe. She helps determine the style and cut of the dresses she will wear because before the bolts of fabric can be cut and stitched into clothing, they are brought to her, and she embellishes them with eternal, unmelting embroidery of frost that glitters like she's woven diamonds into the fabric whenever she moves. 

Shigaraki, as he follows him everywhere, follows him to her room and stands at the door as he joins her at a small table. She keeps the fabric in her lap as she works. "What's wrong, Toya?" His siblings are the only ones who call him by that name, and only when they aren't in front of their father. He stopped being worthy of it the moment his magic failed him, according to Enji. 

Dabi would prefer to have this conversation in private, and tells Shigaraki, "You're dismissed." 

"I am not supposed to let you out of my sight when you are outside of your chambers." The knight says unwaveringly. 

"That is the problem." 

"He can't be worse than Takami?" It's only half a question. 

"Takami worships our father, this one is a hypocrite who has about as much love for him as you or I, but is still following his every order to the letter." 

"I am doing my duties." 

"And he's always talking back to me!" Dabi snaps, half turning in his chair to glare at the other man. 

Fuyumi, the bitch, decides that's at least a little funny as she tries to cover her mouth to pretend she's coughing instead of laughing. "Sir Shigaraki, surely you have started to be taught court etiquette?" 

"I have, your highness. However, I was also explicitly told those courtesies are not to extend to your older brother as he is not a member of the court." 

Dabi's ears would have been bright red with his humiliation if they weren't so badly burned. "You're a bastard and someday I'm going to see you drawn and quartered!" 

"You're a moping sod who isn't worth the breath in his lungs." Shigaraki snaps right back. "Apologies for the outburst, your highness." 

Fuyumi's mouth is hanging open. Takami is never professional with either of them but his informality is in a joking and arrogant way. 

"You see!?" Dabi stresses. "He's probably going to slit my throat in my sleep!" 

"That would be far too much effort for someone like you. I just have to wait for you to burn yourself out again." He hums, "Or hang yourself. I suppose that you couldn't get the job done with fire the first time anyway." 

"Sir Shigaraki!" He's glad that Fuyumi is up out of her seat, her face also flushed with her indignance and rage. "Regardless of what instructions my father has given you, you will not ever speak that way to my brother in my presence! For your disrespect you will receive twenty lashes!" 

Dabi hasn't ever heard his sister sentence someone to corporal punishment. She and Natsuo normally try to hide their own servants' fuck-ups so that their father doesn't give them those kinds of punishments. But, well, maybe she is more scared of him actually finally going through with the suicide that has been sitting at the edge of his mind for years. Maybe she is scared that their father ordered Shigaraki to demoralize him until he just took himself off the board so Enji wouldn't have to bother to do it himself. 

"I'll see that he gets them." Dabi says firmly before she can rescind the order. He had wanted to talk to her more, but this takes precedence. 

Fuyumi looks like she's already regretting the words, the color draining away from her face. They all wonder if being raised by a warrior king has permanently tarnished their very souls, but she usually tries to stay above it. Tries to keep herself as pure as snow. But even she can't be perfect all the time. 

Shigaraki, for all of his backtalk, doesn't look particularly moved by the declaration, though he supposed if he grew up in one of the workhouses in Ylunburg, he's probably received so many lashes that the sting of them will be familiar. He still opens the door the way he's supposed to and shadows Dabi as he goes down to the dungeons. There are guards on duty, but they aren't holding anyone in the cells for now. He bypasses them and goes over to the instruments that are used on the enemy soldiers that are brought here; he doesn't know the name of all of the instruments that are used and he doesn't want to. Torturer's work is not something that he will let occupy his mind. But he does have the option between a flogger, whip, or switch. He chooses the switch because he knows that someone untrained with the former two is more likely to hurt themself when the leather recoils than they are to actually hurt their target. 

Shigaraki looks around the dungeon as he gets the switch and then follows him up to his room silently and Dabi feels his heart starting to race. He's never actually done this before and when they're in the room with the door locked, he suddenly feels incredibly out of his depth when Shigaraki has to be the one who turns to him and catches the gem at his throat to actually seal up the wards around the room. The other man is shorter than him, by a couple of centimeters, but it doesn't feel like that matters at all when he has those red eyes so intense on him. 

"Do you even know how to use that thing?" His voice is lower, rougher, and Dabi does his best to keep his spine straight. 

"Remove your tunic and get on your knees." His voice isn't nearly as steady as he wants it to be. 

Shigaraki lets go of the gem and moves to the center of the room, stripping away his bracers, outer tunic, and the long sleeved shirt he was wearing beneath it, letting Dabi see the layers of muscle he was certain were beneath the cloth, but also far more scars than he thought there would be. He must have been at one of the orphanages that also loaned children out for factory work. That's the only explanation for the scars that continue up his arm and over his shoulder, the gash that is taken on the other side closer to his collarbone, the pockmarks on his skin that must have been from hot rivets being sunk into him. It must have also been where he lost his fingers as well, though he keeps on the glove that holds the prosthetics in place as he bares his torso. 

He turns away from Dabi and sinks to his knees, his hands against his thighs once he's swept his long hair off of his back, showing Dabi that he has two massive scars here as well, carved down from the tops of each shoulder blades to the small of his back in jagged, but parallel lines. There is not an inch of this man that has not been touched by some misfortune. Dabi's palms start to sweat as he feels the weight of the switch in his hand. The vindication that he received for finally getting to silence Shigaraki's backtalk is not as strong as his disgust for himself as he wonders what exactly he's trying to do now. His father is cruelty and violence. He and his siblings have tried to distance that from themselves so ardently. Even Shoto, a knight himself, avoids a fight if a conversation can be had instead. He shows mercy instead of cruelty. The world their father has made for them is cruel. So they choose to be kinder. Dabi has never had an ounce of power over anyone else since he was a child. Is this what he's going to do with it now just because he can?

"You are so very weak." Shigaraki says without raising his head. 

And that sends him over the edge. He tightens his grip on the switch, stalks forward the few steps he needs to close the distance, and he brings the switch down across the other's back. The loud crack of the leather meeting skin doesn't do anything to make him feel stronger and he throws the instrument to the ground in nearly the same move as he stalks over to his bed. "Yes!" His voice is raw with his fury, with his emotion, and he hates himself for it. He hates the way it tears from his throat and makes his eyes burn even though he can no longer shed tears as freely as he did when he was a child. "I am weak!" He screams, turning to face the knight. "I was strong for so little of my life and told that I wasn't worthy of my breath for the other half! I'm nothing! No one! I will die more unremarkable than you would have if you'd stayed a farmer because at least you would have provided something to the kingdom! My sentence is to make myself smaller and smaller until I'm nothing so that my father can be free of my stain on his legacy!" 

Shigaraki stares at him for a long moment and Dabi hates having his eyes on him. 

"Get ou--" 

"Pick the switch back up." The other's voice is hard and robs Dabi of his anger, his indignance, his sorrow. It hollows him out all over again. When Dabi doesn't move, Shigaraki keeps speaking. "Pick it up. You have nineteen more lashes to deliver. If you can make me bleed, then you will have proven that you have more strength in your body than you or your father believe you do. And if you cannot manage it, I will show you how you can forge it instead. If I am to stay in your company for the duration of my time here, then I will have you less pathetic company than you are right now." 

"Y-You don't get to order me around! I'm the prince!" By all the stars in the sky, why is this man, "You are asking to be punished!" 

"I am asking you to prove that you are capable of completing a single task that is not reading a book!" Shigaraki snarls back at him. "I am hoping that you have not been so completely and thoroughly broken by your father and your failures that you cannot even imagine a world in which you become something more than those things have made you believe you are. Pick. Up. The. Switch." 

Dabi hesitates. For a long moment he wants to tell the other to leave, wants to go back to Fuyumi's room and have her switch guards with him until the end of however long this lasts. He never wants to have to look Shigaraki in the eye again because he knows that if he has to see those red eyes filled with any more disgust then they already are now, he just won't be able to survive it. He used to hate how his father never looked at him after his magic failed him. He used to try anything to get his eyes to turn to him. But the first time they had, two years after he awoke from his coma, there had been nothing in them. No disgust, no anger, no disappointment, he had simply looked through him and moved on. He thought that had killed something deep inside of him, but having Shigaraki looking at him now with so much barely-contained contempt has dragged out his corpse to be burned again. His fingers shake as he reaches back down and picks up the switch. 

Shigaraki huffs and lowers his head again, hands fisted against his thighs. "Move it along. I don't have all night." 

Dabi doesn't feel any more steady or sure than he did a moment before as he takes his position behind the other man again. He tightens his grip on the switch as he realizes that there's not even a mark from the first hit, and tries again. The impact makes the switch sting the seam running over his palm and once again Shigaraki doesn't flinch. 

"You'll have to hit harder than that." 

"Shut up!" He snarls and tries again. It shakes up his entire arm as he hits the other man. He doesn't let himself stop, he goes again, and again, and again, his eyes burning with his frustration, his helplessness, his arm getting weaker with every hit. Until Shigaraki is standing up, catching his wrist, and taking the switch from it. There's blood on the ground, but it's not from the knight's back, it's dripping off of Dabi's face as a sob slips from his throat because he really is as pathetic as the guard said. 

"That was twenty-seven." Shigaraki says, "and I'm not bleeding." 

He tries to pull his wrist from the other's grip, but he's too weak to manage that. "Let go of me." His voice is soft now, he doesn't have any of his anger left inside of him. 

"No. You couldn't make me bleed, so now I get to reshape you. That's what you agreed to. Or are you a liar as well as a waste of space?" 

Dabi didn't know he could feel worse than he already did, but his gut sours with shame at the idea of not even being able to keep his word. He's not sure that he has anything at all left to him but the voice that so few even fail to acknowledge when he does speak. He grits his teeth. "...'Reshape' me how?" 

"You went seven over. Strip your clothes from the waist down." 

Dabi pales sharply. "Absolutely not--!" 

Shigaraki's other hand catches his chin, those eyes hot and dangerous on him as he forces him to meet his. "Your back is stapled together." He's seen him getting out of bed in the morning with only his undergarments on, there is very little mystery left of his body. "If I give you the hits there, you'll split open. Even if I avoid the seams, you're so thin that taking the hits over the bones will leave you unable to move. Your thighs are the only place with enough muscle and without any burns. I can give you your seven there, or I can give them to you over your back, and when you cannot move, you can explain to anyone who bothers to come check on you what happened." 

"You'll--"

"Maybe receive a slap on the wrist if you lie about our wager. But your father will be more keen to believe my side of the story." He takes the switch from Dabi's hand and waits. He could refuse. He hasn't been in pain since he burned. He doesn't hurt. He's a ghost, not even worthy of being noticed by the gods of misfortune who are so keen to throw their blessings to all. He could refuse. Why does he need the respect of this man? How much more could he lose from his father? What does it matter if he lets one of his servants beat him black and blue? He's already a worthless, broken thing. It makes his humiliation burn hotter in his veins than it ever has before when he reaches to start to undo his belt. 

Dabi strips his boots, his pants, thinks he might be able to stop at that, but one glance at the hard lines of the other's features tell him that he has to remove his undergarments as well. His own tunic, thankfully, is long enough that if he holds the hem, he can preserve a modicum of his modesty. 

"Bend over the edge of your bed." Shigaraki orders him like he hasn't made this situation embarrassing enough. He wants to protest again, but it won't do him any good. He goes over to his bed, takes a breath and bends over. After a moment, he hears Shigaraki's boots against the floor, moving closer until they stop behind him. He will not cry out. He will not scream. It is seven hits. He will be able to take that. It cannot hurt more than the beatings his father gave him throughout his training or his burning. "Hold out for as many as you can. But if you need me to stop, tell me." 

Dabi clenches his jaw shut tight and braces himself. He is already displaying so much weakness. He is not about to beg for mercy. 

The first hit comes across the back of his thighs and instantaneously becomes a line of white-hot agony across his skin that has fresh, bloody tears trickling down his cheeks. 

"One," Shigaraki counts in an even tone while the crack of the switch is still echoing around the room. Dabi barely has the chance to breathe before the second comes down, a little below the first, closer to the staples that curve around the middle of his thighs. This one hurts just as badly as the first, maybe a little worse, but it's hard to tell when the switch coming down against him is such a singular, blinding pain. "Two." 

The next one comes down just below the curve of his ass, and so much higher makes his whole body flinch as that hit definitely hurts worse than the first one. "Three." Oh, by the gods, he's hitting him harder each time. Dabi presses his face into the bedding so that it will muffle any sound that might try to slip out of him. When the fourth overlaps the first hit he can't help his toes curling and the way his body squirms involuntarily as the pain radiates out from his skin, stinging at first, but blooming into a deep throb that he knows will put bruises on the pale parts of his flesh as dark as his scars. "Four." It hurts. It hurts so badly that his stomach feels tight and sick. He doesn't think that he's going to be able to last the final three. He thinks that if he does, he'll just fall apart right then. 

And then Shigaraki's hand moves to the hem of his shirt. His ass had been at least partially covered by his tunic, but he pushes it up now, his hand cool and his skin rough as he runs it over the curve of him, up to press against his lower back, that touch so sharply different from the painful ones against his thighs that he's left gasping. 

"There. You're doing better than I thought you would." The tone in his voice is different than Dabi has ever heard it before. "See? You must have some amount of pride left if you hold your word so sacred." He moves his thumb over the base of his spine and that soft touch, the words mingling with the pain coursing through his skin, puts a hazy confusion in his mind that fogs his focus. "Can you take more, little prince?" 

He should back out now. He already is hurting so much. He should tell Shigaraki off for touching him with a hand that isn't trying to inflict violence. But that hand and the words before are like a balm. They insulate him from some of the thrumming agony in his skin and make it easier for him to just manage to nod his head, his hands fisting tightly in the sheets. 

"These will be harder." The knight warns as he takes his hand away. Dabi doesn't bite his tongue only because he's scared he might bite it off. The fifth hit is so hard that Dabi swears that he is pushed forward on the bed slightly and he can't help the soft cry that he lets out. "Five, shhh," his voice is still much calmer than it was before. Soothing as his cool hand goes to the back of his thighs again and that feels horrible and wonderful all at the same time as the chill of his skin takes away the blood bright heat that is coming from the welts blooming from his hits. "Only two more. Show me that you have some resolve left in you." 

He hates how much easier it is to brace his body for the pain when he knows that he's doing it to earn Shigaraki's approval. It feels different to earn this than it does to have his siblings’ that comes out of obligation and nostalgia. Shigaraki gives him another few seconds to tell him to stop, but when he doesn't speak, his hand draws back again. It takes three agonizing seconds before the switch comes back down against his skin and he howls this time with how hard it hits him. 

"Six," but there's such satisfaction in Shigaraki's voice. "Just one more, little prince." He can't even find words to answer him, he only manages a soft whimper that makes him feel so incredibly small and pathetic. He hears the switch whistle through the air a split second before it cracks against his skin again and Dabi can't help the other pained cry that comes out of him. "Seven," the hand goes back to his lower back and Dabi lets out another miserable sob against the sheets. "There, you kept your word." He hears the switch hit the floor and can't help flinching slightly again. "Stay there." Shigaraki instructs like Dabi can move at all. 

The other man moves around the room for a moment and Dabi tries to find his voice enough to tell him to go. He doesn't know how he can survive being any more humiliated and pathetic than he feels right now. He doesn't want to have to wait to find out. But before he can find his voice, the other man is back and murmuring. 

"This is going to sting a little." He doesn't wait and the next second a cool, wet cloth is being gently pressed to his stinging thighs. He bites his lip hard to keep from squealing, but the pain of having the pressure on his skin is easy to ignore when the coolness of the cloth and the soft little circles that the other man starts to rub against him feel so good. Dabi just thinks that the knight might be cleaning up the blood off of his skin, absolutely certain that his thighs have to be torn to ribbons from how badly they hurt, but he refreshes the coolness of the towel with a spell after a minute or two and he realizes that the man is just trying to soothe the hurts. 

That is working a little too well, he realizes vaguely as between the pain, the relief, and his body's exhaustion, there is a new feeling tingling through him. 

It's not helped when the knight murmurs, "You did such a good job. I thought a little prince like you wouldn't be able to handle one, but you made it all the way to seven. You should be proud of yourself." 

Dabi doesn't think that it's pride that is in him when all of the sensations against his body have his cock twitching against the soft sheets. Mortification goes through him and he doesn't know what to do with himself when that feeling only makes his cock harden faster instead of chasing the ill-gotten arousal away. He hopes that with his body pressed into the bed and his thighs pressed tightly together that the other won't be able to see it and he can find his voice quickly enough that he can get the other man to leave so he doesn't have to show any more weakness. 

"Where I'm from, we have a code that we live by. 'Endure what you can, destroy the parts of you that fail, reforge what you need to move forward'." The words are spoken softly. The touches against his skin are soft. "You've endured for years. Now I've broken you. All you need now is to forge yourself into something stronger." Dabi is not expecting just how strong the other man is or how easily he's able to roll him onto his back before he can make him stop. He fumbles to try and hide himself, but it doesn't work, the other's eyes falling to his hard prick before he can tug his shirt down over it. But there's no contempt left in those eyes when they look at him now. Now there's a... heat in them that doesn't help the way his shameful body is feeling so needy. "Or perhaps you need a firm hand to help with that too. Tell me, little prince, has anyone ever touched you like this before?" 

No. No one but his kin has ever struck him. No one has ever deigned let their hands linger on his body the way that Shigaraki's are as they run over the uninjured tops of his thighs before they curve back around to touch the welts that have formed on his skin. His fingers press in a little and Dabi makes himself so weak, surely loses the thinnest thread of respect he managed to gain by suffering through each hit, when he lets out a weak moan, the wound caught between agony and bliss as his cock curved up against his stomach from the sensation. He got a few stolen kisses, once. He was seventeen and attending a ball that was supposed to be full of suitors for his sister, but one noble's son had taken an interest in him, he brought him off to the side and had kissed him until Takami had tracked him down. He must have told his father what happened, because the noble's title and lands were stripped, Dabi ended up locked in his chambers for three months being served the same slop and moldy bread as their prisoners, and his room was spelled dark as the dungeons, so that when he was able to leave it, the world outside of his room hurt twice as badly. His father, without saying a word to him, had made it abundantly clear that he was absolutely not allowed to pursue any form of love. That would bring attention to him. He was supposed to disappear. 

He manages to shake his head. Shigaraki is one of his father's knights. With his magic, he can get away with things that Dabi will never be able to contemplate.

"Do you want me to keep touching you, little one?" His voice is warm and drips over his skin like honey, even as his fingers press to remind him how much pain he just brought. "I think you've more than earned a reward for being such a good boy taking your first punishment." 

He doesn't feel like he's being good, but being called that makes more of that sticky, needy heat, like the sticky blood that he thinks must be going tacky on his thighs, warm his insides further. He wants to be rewarded for everything that he's endured so far. His throat is still too tight to find his voice, but he manages a tiny nod and that has the knight climbing into his bed with him. He murmurs a spell, bringing oil over his fingers, as the other hand pushes his shirt up beneath his arms so his ruined skin and needy cock are on display. Just being looked at with those red eyes at the most intimate part of his body makes him tremble and shiver. 

"Impressive someone so weak can also be so cute." Shigaraki murmurs as his wet fingers trail over his cock. Dabi has had his own hand there before, but it's very, very different to feel those sensations of pleasure spilling over his nerves when it's someone else touching him. He bites his lip harder because he's scared that he'll moan too loudly, that someone will somehow hear it past his wards and come in and stop this before he gets the other's hand completely fisted around his body. His hips jump up when the knight runs a single finger along his underside, from root to tip, flicking his head when he reaches it. Beyond humiliation when that has a bead of precum starting to form there. "So sensitive, little one. Not going to be able to last long when I have my hand on you." He hates how quickly and succinctly the other has assessed his need. But his hand doesn't fist around him to let him have that pleasure. Instead his hands go back around his aching thighs and Dabi humiliates himself further when he moans loudly as fingers press firmly into the forming welts and sends pain that goes sour-sweet over his nerves. "Wonderful," and the word sounds like it's been drenched in his sincerity, as he says it. "You're already becoming something new. Maybe you will be worth my time after all." He shifts on the bed, taking his hands away from Dabi's skin, and for one horrible moment, he thinks that the knight might have been playing him. He already got him to allow his body to be so debased, but maybe he wanted the further humiliation of knowing that Dabi was begging for more despite the pain that came before. Maybe he wanted to be able to go tell his father that he ordered him into his bed so that he would end up locked up in the dark again so he could pursue the interests that he would rather instead of having to deal with him all of the time. 

But Shigaraki doesn't leave the bed, he just flicks open his belt and opens his trousers. Dabi's mouth goes dry as the other reaches inside and uses his oil-slicked hand to begin pumping his own cock, bringing himself to full hardness and showing Dabi that he is not only weaker than the knight when it comes to their muscles, but that his cock may be the more pathetic side of average or that Shigaraki's is simply far, far bigger than a cock has any right to be. Not only big, but pierced with a ring curving through his head that Dabi cannot imagine the pain that it must have taken to have it put there. He's only ever seen women in court with their ears pierced. He didn't even know that jewelry could be added to that part of the body. Shigaraki gets himself hard, and then his hands shift to Dabi's ankles. His nerves peak as he worries about something so big being forced inside of his body, but the knight doesn't spread him wide or hook his legs over his shoulders. Instead, he brings Dabi's ankles together and makes him bend his knees up towards his chest, forcing the aching skin of his thighs to be stretched as the lower half of his legs are then over-directed so that they are twisted to the side, allowing the other man to see his handiwork. 

"There, just like that, little prince. Since you liked the sting of them so much, and since I want you to soak in this revelation, I'm going to bring you your first pleasure right here." Dabi has touched himself before. He knows what the kiss of an orgasm feels like, but he is not about to protest any of that out of fear it might get all of this taken away. He doesn't quite understand what the other man is saying, but he murmurs that word again and fresh oil is spilling down between his thighs, enough of it his skin feels slippery over his injuries and it's dripping over his sensitive balls. Shigaraki holds his legs as he moves forward, kneeling on the bed as he feeds his cock between Dabi's stinging thighs. He lets out a gasp, the movement bringing the pain back to the forefront of his mind, but it is unable to stop him from also whining with the pleasure that goes through him. He didn't know pain and pleasure could mingle like this. Didn't know that he could be so pathetic as to want both and the sweeter words that are coming from the man who inflicted the pain as well. But he doesn't protest at all as the other pushes between his legs and then pulls out nearly all the way before he pushes back in again slowly. The movements don't allow the pain under his skin let up in the slightest, but it doesn't matter. Each sting of pleasure races through him before it reaches his cock and turns to pleasure as it tingles up from his root. 

By the second thrust, he's letting out a breathless gasp of arousal as it happens. It's all heightened by the fact that Shigaraki won't stop talking. 

"Squeeze your thighs tight, little one. That's it. Let me feel how badly your muscles shake as I fuck you right here. You can cry, baby boy. You can moan and whine. I like those sounds that you're making. I'd ask if that feels good, but you're staining your shirt with how much your cute prick is leaking." He never stops moving as he's speaking, never relents in the pleasure-pain that he's soaking Dabi's whole body in, and he doesn't know if he's going to be able to survive this. He's felt an orgasm come on before, but never without his hand around his cock. He tries to fumble to reach for it. Shigaraki catches his wrist and pins it to the bed, all but growling, "No, little one. You're going to cum just like this. You've already shown me that you can find your resolve, now show me how pretty you are as you break." 

Dabi wonders if he should be embarrassed by how immediately that makes his cock twitch and his balls draw tight before his orgasm is rushing through him. He doesn't know if the pleasure has ever burned brighter than it does when he's coming apart as Shigaraki keeps fucking his swollen thighs harder. He moves and moves, every thrust pushing his pleasure higher and higher-- he didn't know that the pleasure of his orgasm could ricochet all through his body again and again even after his balls are empty and his cock can't spill anything else. But he feels so, so good as the ache keeps building between his thighs as it takes so much longer for Shigaraki to get his fill, the tops of his thighs slapping the injured bottoms of his own so hard he nearly squeals again as he fucks into the press of them that he tightens manually by squeezing them together in his rough grip as the head of his cock peaks out from between them, the ring cool against his skin, before his cum is splashing over Dabi's skin. 

He's trembling on the bed, still gasping for breath as the other man lowers his legs to the bed again. His fingers go to Dabi's soft cock and he starts to tease and stroke him, making his nerves sting fresh and him choke out a sob as he shakes his head weakly. 

Red eyes are so soft on him as he falls apart. "Okay, little one. Let me clean you up." And he does. He brings back the towel and Dabi takes note of the pitcher of water he brought to the nightstand. He uses the cloth to clean the cum from their skin and to make sure that his thighs are a little more soothed. Then he reaches into Dabi's bedside drawer for the medicine Natsuo makes to help keep his seams healthy and unswollen from how the staples can irritate his skin. He takes some of that on his fingers and rubs it into the welts across the backs of his thighs. The medicine soothes some of the ache and Dabi is so confused when, as the pain lessens, he feels like crying even more than he did before. 

It takes a few minutes before Shigaraki is done with that and then he's reaching for Dabi's soiled shirt. "Alright, let's get you out of--" 

Dabi shakes his head weakly. He just wants Shigaraki to go before he falls apart completely. The knight praised him for finding his resolve before and he wants to hold onto it but the tears feel like they're so big and heavy in his chest. He needs to let them out or he might combust again. He was always a crybaby. His siblings used to make fun of him for that until his life became so terrible that they couldn't deny that he had so much sorrow that it was unfair the gods took away the ability for him to shed it without also shedding blood. "... you can go." His voice is so small and shaky as he tries to make himself sit up. He can't manage though, everything from his waist down feeling like it's being lost in the ache of his thighs. 

"No." 

"I don't need your pity! I don't need you to baby me! You got what you wanted, you humiliated me! Just leave me alone and go tell my father that you've finally turned the unwanted son into nothing but a--" He can't fight the sob back. 'Whore' had crossed his mind. But the fact he had gone to bed with Shigaraki, that he had enjoyed it, reminds him too sharply of his mother and how their father treated her until her mind shattered apart. Oh gods, is that what is going to happen to him? Will he be sent away somewhere just like she was? He brings a shaky hand to his mouth to try and cover it because he might not be able to fight the sobs that are coming out of him, but he can do his best to muffle them. 

He's not expecting for the knight to shush him gently and shift on the bed. He sits with his back against the headboard and pulls Dabi into his lap, hand gentle as he makes Dabi tuck his face into the crook of his neck even though he's smearing blood all over his skin. "Little one, you have never had my pity, only my contempt. You do not even have that now." He presses his face to the top of Dabi's head, and he wonders if he is entirely delusional when he thinks that he feels the other man give him a kiss there. "You have endured half a life of disgrace at the hands of your father and his kingdom. Now I have brought you down to the lowest point you could reach and raised you back up to the brightest pleasure you've ever had, have I not?" 

Dabi feels his face heat and he hides it more against the other's skin. He didn't even touch his cock as he fucked his thighs. But it... had felt better than he'd ever managed to make himself feel with his hand tight on his length. 

"We can keep finding those highs and lows when we're alone, little prince. But afterwards, I'm going to help you find a way to live in between them without letting you believe the way you are treated outside of these walls has been earned. You may have lost your magic and your standing in your father's court, but you are still alive, princeling. You still have time to become something greater than those things could have ever made you." His hand is gentle as it strokes along his back. "You can cry, sweet one. It's natural to mourn for the ways we've suffered." 

Dabi doesn't want to fall apart, but the sobs come anyway, wracking and deep. He sobs and sobs and Shigaraki doesn't mock him. He doesn't leave. He holds him close, kisses his skin, and looks at him like he might be seeing something... precious for the first time when he considers him. Perhaps what's more astounding is that when the seams under his eyes are swollen and the bed is stained with blood, the knight still doesn't leave him. He wipes up his face, spells the bedding clean, and applies medicine to his face as the tub is filled with steaming water. He makes sure that Dabi is clean, that the medicine is applied fresh to his thighs again, and then he strips his own clothes and climbs back into the bed with him. He presses kisses to his face, across his shoulders, and gives him more soft, sweet words before he draws Dabi back into his chest and lets him sink deeply into the most restful sleep that he thinks he's had in over a decade. 

///

Things are so very different after that. Shigaraki's contempt for him in their day-to-day conversations is no longer so strong. It only increases when he sees his spine begin to bow under the weight of the disinterest that the rest of the world gives him. When he falters and starts to sag, the knight brings him back to the room. He shuts the wards around them, and he has Dabi strip naked for him. He had protested at first and Shigaraki had simply turned and left the room. He came back the next morning as his duties required, but he had not spoken a kind word to him. Dabi had held out for a day more before he'd been stripped and waiting for the other on the morning of the third day. Shigaraki didn't hit him. He made him kneel on the floor and let the other rest a boot on his back until his knees were aching and all of his limbs were trembling from trying to hold the position for so long. It wasn't until the sun started to wane through the windows that Shigaraki had him look up from the floor and had taken the boot from his back. He had Dabi open his mouth as he undid his pants and took out his cock. He wasn't even hard at the time, but he slipped it inside of his mouth anyway. His knees were still hurting very badly, but he was able to stay like that for a long time until the pain became distant and there was a... foreign pleasure that started to press in along his body. He hadn't ever known that pain could become pleasure so intense, but as he felt his jaw stretch and go numb as spit started to dribble past his lips, his cock had hardened more rapidly than Shigaraki's. The other man had put his boot on his crotch. He hadn't applied any pressure to make it hurt, and after he was leaking against the sole of his shoe, he let him start to hump into the press like he was nothing but a desperate dog that was misbehaving. 

Shigaraki assured him afterwards that he wasn't though. He let him cum, had taken himself from Dabi's mouth and had cum across his face, letting him taste someone else's cum for the first time. Dabi had been so embarrassed by the mess he'd made, by how ready he was to debase himself further, but the knight had easily picked him up when his limbs were too weak to carry himself, and had brought him over to the bed. He cleaned him up again and when Dabi had been trembling, terrified that he was going to leave him alone in the shame that was saturating his whole body, he had crawled back into the bed and gathered him close. 

"You don't need to be scared, little one." He told him, his breath soft and sweet as he all but sighed the words against his skin. "After all of the more subtle cruelties you face each day, craving these ones, like this? Where you know that you're safe and when you know that you won't be pushed beyond what you can take-- that's alright. You can have this and enjoy it, princeling." His hand cupped his cheek and he made him look up at him, meet those red eyes that had a flicker of something in them that was softer and more... worried than he'd ever seen in the other's expression before. "You are still the prince. One word, and I will stop anything we may be doing. One word and I won't ever touch you again. You know that, don't you?" 

He wasn't sure at the time, but he had nodded anyway, unable to trust his voice. 

Shigaraki had drawn him tighter to his breast and had kissed the top of his head again. "You can stay like this a while, Dabi." He'd told him. "But not forever. You will have to find a way of existing outside of these moments. I won't be able to find you forever if you turn into a ghost each time my attention is elsewhere." 

A ghost. That's what he thought of himself for so long. Ever since he burned. He died with the loss of his magic, he thought. And since then, he has only been a specter haunting the halls of the palace. He wasn't wanted, but no one could figure out how to exorcise him yet.

It took another few days of nothing sexual happening between them before Shigaraki had come and woken him before the crack of dawn. He'd brought him a page's vestments, and had urged him out of bed. He'd half expected the man was going to make him polish his armor before he violated him in the stables or something, but instead he had asked to see what he had learned before his coma. The forms felt horrible. He remembered how his body used to move through them, how he used to be able to train, but he didn't have the same muscles, the same flexibility, the same stamina that he'd needed to do so without embarrassing himself. 

But Shigaraki had only nodded to himself and then brought him back up to his room to bathe and prepare himself for the rest of the day before the servants would bring his meal. 

Dabi wasn't sure what the other man was planning, but he was already prepared to go back to bed by the time he'd finished his breakfast. For once, the knight did not complain about the laziness of his schedule because he said he wanted to go to the refugee camp that afternoon anyway. He left and Dabi slept.

/// 

It's a week later that Shigaraki comes into his room before dawn again, and he pulls the sheets tighter over his head, trying to hide in the blankets. 

"I am not going back out to embarrass myself again! I'm sleeping!" 

"You are not embarrassing yourself by resuming your training, you are embarrassing yourself," Shigaraki is so much stronger than him that he is easily able to rip the blankets from his hands and pull them back to expose his body to the chill of the air. "By allowing yourself to waste away in this room. Your father will not allow you to partake in political meetings, let you pursue a knighthood, or grant you permission to study any school of artistry in any official capacity. But you are the one who has chosen to instead do as he wants and let yourself become nothing but a memory of potential. Just because your magic is gone does not mean that you have no worth. Warriors without magic make a difference on the battlefield everyday. Artists without it are able to create masterpieces that hang in your family's gallery for centuries. And even the common man can bring concerns to the court and make a difference." 

"Why do you care so much what I choose to do with my life? You don't even like me unless I'm degrading myself and letting you cum across my skin." 

Shigaraki's expression does fill with a lighter contempt than it had when he'd first been assigned to him, but that still makes Dabi feel unbearably small. "I care," he says, "because a member of the royal family should not be squandering the opportunities that he was given by his very birth, even if they are not the ones he was promised then. I certainly enjoy the moments you let yourself submit to me, but even if you hadn't been so worked up after your first punishment, I would still be pursuing this goal. You are pathetic as you are now, but you have the potential to be more. I am not someone who can let such potential go wasted." 

Dabi tries to wrap his head around that, annoyed as he can't tell if he's starting to blush because he was just insulted again or if it's because the... reassurance that Shigaraki really does want him in their encounters helps to soothe a deep ache in him that he didn't have a name for. He manages to not embarrass himself by addressing any of that and instead asking, "What goal?" 

"The goal of turning a discarded ingot into a sword. Get up, get dressed. You will be decisive and sure by the time I am finished with you." 

"And when exactly will that be?" 

"If you manage to prove yourself to be worth my efforts? Perhaps never." 

Dabi isn't expecting the way that makes warmth take root in his chest, but it does. Takami was his guard because he was a lazy piece of shit that wanted to stay in the castle as much as possible so he could flash his feathers at his father like he was hoping to take a mate. No other guard had ever chosen to stay on as his. Being assigned watching him was considered insulting since he was the thing in this castle that was worth so little it really didn't warrant being protected. They wanted to move onto bigger and better things. But Shigaraki just implied that he would stay. That things could be... Dabi isn't sure if the things that he's doing with the guard can be considered 'good', but they certainly are different, and Dabi... likes that difference. Things could be different like this for a while.

"You're insufferable and I should have you thrown in the stocks." He says as he gets out of bed and takes the page's clothes he's handed again. 

"You would miss me if you left me there. Dress." 

"Can I at least eat--" 

"No. No sense in wasting the food in case you throw up." 

"What the fuck am I going to be doing that could make me puke?" 

///

Shigaraki didn't deign to answer him and instead brings him down to the training grounds as the sky begins to lighten from pitch to the deepest blue. But Dabi is surprised when they are not alone on the training grounds despite the early hour. A man is standing there. He is blond with a strong build, a livid scar splitting his forehead, and a shock of short blond hair, wearing peasant's clothes. Dabi bristles. No one but the castle staff and their knights should be here so early, and for one sickening moment he wonders if he's about to be killed. But Shigaraki catches his arm when he draws to a stop and pulls him forward. 

The blond man hears their footsteps, Dabi's dragging as his panic builds, before he turns and smiles. "Yo, Tomura, what's up?" 

"I hope that you didn't have any trouble getting over here?" Shigaraki asks when they are no more than a meter from the stranger. A stranger to him, but clearly someone that Shigaraki invited. 

"No problem for me, man." He eyes Dabi. "This the prince?" 

"One of them. Dabi, this is my friend, Jin Bubaigawara. Jin, this is your new trainee." 

"'Trainee'?" Dabi bristles, turning his attention completely to Shigaraki. "I'm not going to be trained by a--" the word catches on his tongue as he realizes the rudeness of it and is leveled with a dry look from his guard. "Person who does not have formal training himself." 

"You're in luck then. Jin does has formal training. He was a soldier since he was your youngest brother's age. His injury has kept him off of the battlefield for a few years, but he's still able to use his unique abilities to help train others." 

"Oh," he feels his face flush slightly. "My apologies, thank you for your service, Sir Bubaigawara." 

The blond man laughs uproariously and Dabi's embarrassment only grows at his complete rudeness. "'Sir' never had that before. You can just call me 'Jin'." 

Shigaraki lets go of Dabi's arm and takes a step back, letting the other man start to speak. He asks Dabi how much training he received as a child, how often he exercises now, what he remembers of his sword forms, and then he nods. He gives Dabi one of the training swords and casts a spell. It's beyond strange when he sees the other man's shadow separate itself from his body and stand across from him, the shape of it morphing from Jin's mirror to one of his own. He hesitates, glancing at Shigaraki, but the knight is just watching with those assessing red eyes. 

"Go ahead and run through your practice maneuvers like you would against one of the dummies." Jin instructs him. 

Dabi does his best, but he feels slow and uncoordinated as he brings his sword against the body made of darkness that is shaped like him. It feels as solid as his own body each time he strikes it and there is a brewing discomfort in his chest as he lands the weak blows against it. When he finishes the set he takes a step back. 

"Good, now, this guy," Jin pats the shade's shoulder, "is going to do that exact same sequence against you and you're going to try to defend. While you do, you'll be able to see exactly how you were moving before. Try to pay attention to that too while you avoid getting your shit kicked in." 

Dabi doesn't feel all that confident about that, but he's glad he was at least given a warning before the other spurs the conjuration to life. The first blow he blocks is already testing his strength. His arms are so weak after the first round of his maneuvers that he doesn't think that he'll be able to block the blows throughout the whole set. He's slow, but so is the shade. The power that it strikes him with makes his arms shake, but it doesn't knock the training sword out of his hands the way that his father used to. He knows the moves that are coming, he sees the way that the shadow trembles between moves, how long it takes between each form to move again like it's already exhausted. He sees how he looks to others as he tries so hard to do what they were asking him to, and he doesn't know if he'll manage it. But he gets through the shade's set without letting a single swipe go under his guard. 

"Perfect, now we're going to switch again. Look for the weaknesses in your defenses, and see if you can exploit them." 

And on this goes. Jin has him try until his arms are so heavy that he can't even lift them and then he spends an additional hour showing him how to improve his footwork so that his attacks aren't so easily and blatantly choreographed. But he gives Shigaraki a thumbs up and the knight looks vaguely pleased himself before he turns to take him off to the castle as the sun rises high overhead. Dabi is exhausted and sweaty as they get back to their room, and Shigaraki rewards him for his hard work by letting him bathe before he feeds him some of the food that his servants bring. When he wants to get back into bed, he allows that too, having him spread his legs so he can move between them and dip his head down to his skin. 

Dabi is a whole new kind of humiliated when he kisses his hole well before the knight has ever deigned to put his mouth against his lips, but he can't deny himself the pleasure that goes through him as he licks inside of his aching body. 

///

The training sessions with Jin continue, first every other day, but as Dabi starts to actually be able to move after each, they turn to each day. And every day he learns a little more. His muscles get a little stronger, his steps more sure, his speed better. It takes months of training, but he improves. He even gets to the point where Jin or Shigaraki themselves will spar with him. Jin always goes easy on him, always just barely tapping him with the sword when he slips and isn't able to block. Shigaraki always makes sure to strike him just short of breaking skin. But the pain reminds him sharply to do better next time, while the soft touches as Shigaraki rubs the medicine into his skin in the privacy of his chambers remind him that the knight is never doing this for cruelty's sake. He can make this stop at any second with just one word. But he never does. He wants to less and less as he has to order new clothing because his shoulders are widening, has to have larger meals sent to his room because his stomach is no longer concave as he wastes away beneath his scars. He is growing. He is... getting stronger again. It becomes easier for him to hold his spine straighter. He wonders if he should be ashamed that it is also so easy to let himself bend it whenever Shigaraki demands, but the pleasure that comes in the moments he lets the other control him completely banishes that thought from his mind. 

///

He didn't mean to go three months without seeing his siblings, but Shoto is extremely busy with matters of the war and court. Natsuo has been constantly making potions and healing any soldiers who are brought to the castle as the skirmish that started in Ontsall continues to rage. Fuyumi is the only one he can see, and that's only because the worsening skirmish had gotten to the point that potential suitors are being brought to her instead of her being sent off to distant kingdoms to court favor. He may not have meant for the last time he saw her to be when she sentenced Shigaraki to twenty lashes and sent everything that has happened between him and his guard into motion, but when he enters her chambers and her cheeks immediately pink when she sees Shigaraki following behind him, he realizes that she must not be over her reaction to his cruel words even if Dabi has had more than enough time to get over them. 

"Don't worry about that, Fu," he says as he crosses the room to sit at the table they always sit at when he comes for a visit. "He didn't even feel them. Damn bastard didn't even bruise." 

He doesn't think his sister looks all that relieved about that, her eyes moving away from Shigaraki and locking on him, widening with her surprise. "Oh-- Toya, you look... good." 

Healthy. Solid. Less like a ghost than he did before. His body may always be disfigured with the evidence of his magic leaving him, but he is not the specter that used to come and haunt her rooms when she was free of her own duties. He looks real again. He feels real again. "I've been entertaining myself since our father has no need of me." 

"I'm glad," she sounds it, but her eyes do flick to Shigaraki again and she makes herself straighten her spine. It would be improper for her to apologize for doling out the punishment that she did, but her nature and guilt are making it difficult for her to hold her tongue, clearly. 

"Sir Shigaraki," he calls to the guard who is maintaining his post at the door. "I believe you owe my sister an apology. The last time we were here you were extremely disrespectful using that language in front of her." 

"Toya, no--!" 

"You're right, my prince." Shigaraki's voice is measured, but warmer than it normally is in front of others. Respectful, but so falsely that Dabi is certain that he is going to be punished severely when they find a moment alone again. He bows to his sister, and Dabi is a little jealous that the other man hasn't ever done so for him, before he speaks again. "You have my sincerest apologies, Princess Fuyumi. My behavior the last time we saw each other was unwarranted and extremely disrespectful. If someone had spoken to my sister the way I spoke to your brother, I would have demanded a far worse punishment. Your grace and decorum are truly something to behold and I hope that I may be worthy of what I have been shown of them some day." 

Dabi would have immediately bitched at him over the massive amount of horseshit that apology was when he knows that Shigaraki probably would have been more impressed if his sister had given him a worse punishment after his backtalk last time. But instead he is gaping at the other man as his sister raises a hand to try and cover the tiny gasp that comes from her throat. 

"Sister? What sister?" Dabi demands, finding his voice first as Shigaraki straightens back up to maintain his position at the door. 

"You told the king that you were an orphan. That you had no family." Her voice is more terrified than indignant like his own. "If he discovers you lied to him in front of the entire court--" 

"My apologies, I've told neither you nor the king a lie about my family. She is not my sister by blood, which is the only way the laws of this kingdom recognize kin. But we were raised together. I dried her tears, I bandaged her skinned knees, I watched her grow until I was not allowed to be at her side anymore. I got work and tried to protect my farm so that I might be able to bring her back to my side one day." He stops speaking for a moment, his teeth clenching and a muscle twitching in the side of his jaw as he swallows the words that they all know he wants to say, but that he cannot without letting his tongue slip and potentially showing their father the same disrespect he so casually showed Dabi the first time they were all together in this room. Knights in the king's circle are not allowed relationships outside of it unless directly condoned by their father. Those relationships, historically, have only been to sire children along with another of the kingdom's strong magical bloodline. A foster sister that cannot bring the kingdom more power is not someone he will ever be allowed to try to find again. "She is not blood, but she is kin." Is all he says instead. 

Three months of letting the man train him, debase him, pamper him, and he still knows nearly nothing about him. 

"How old is she?" Fuyumi asks.

"She would be fifteen now. She was always working for one of the textile factories in the city, so even once I had my farm, I wasn't able to purchase her contract to get her away from there." 

"Textiles?" Dabi sees the gears turning in his sister's head faster than his own and he hesitates. But yes, that could work. "That's fascinating. You know, Shoto's sixteenth birthday is fast approaching. The ball that will be thrown will be quite a spectacle with people visiting from far and wide. I've been granted permission to gather some extra hands to assist me while I work on crafting my dress. Does your sister have any skill with embroidery?" 

Oh they are all going to be in so much trouble if Enji finds out about this and Fuyumi is definitely letting her guilt drive her generosity. But, well, Tomura's eyes are bright and glimmer in a way that makes Dabi's stomach swoop a bit. He can't quite name the look there, but it seems to be a good one, because when they are alone again in his chambers, the punishment he doles out for his insolence in public is very light before he's letting Dabi grind himself into his pillows while the other watches him, actually letting him reach his satisfaction this time as he does. 

///

It takes another week, but the day that Shigaraki's foster sister is supposed to arrive, they go down to the gates near the refugee camp. Jin and Atsuhiro, the merchant who spoke for the rest of the village, are also there, waiting. Jin, apparently, met Shigaraki and his sister when he was stationed near their orphanage, and is equally as excited to see the young woman again. And with the castle preparing itself to be stuffed to the brim with the foreign dignitaries and their own servants, Atsuhiro offered to let her stay in the tent that Shigaraki had assigned to him before he ended up in the kingdom's service. Dabi feels strange waiting at the gates for this with Shigaraki and the people he calls friends. He and Jin get along well enough during his training, but he is supposed to be the prince, even disgraced, he shouldn't be down in the refugee camp waiting to see a servant into the palace. He'd even told Shigaraki that he could stay in his room while he reunited with his sister so he could see her without having to worry about shirking his other duties, but the other had promised him five lashes if he wouldn't get dressed and come down with him. 

Five lashes are hardly an issue now, more of a tease than anything, but Shigaraki's eyes had gone hot on him when he'd been so defiant about that and he had climbed into his bed with him, his hand reaching down into his sleep clothes to stroke along his thighs, murmuring that if he could take the hits there so easily, that perhaps he would have to put them against something more sensitive. He had fondled him for long enough that Dabi was starting to go breathless and squirm, before delivering a firm tap against his sac that left him gasping in a whole different way. He'd gotten out of bed then, but he had a feeling that was not just an idle threat. He's not sure how much he's going to enjoy that punishment when he eventually earns it, but each punishment comes with a sweeter reward. Hands petting over the hurts, lips kissing his skin until it's humming instead of screaming with his pain, and maybe, someday, Shigaraki will deign him worthy of bedding him properly. He has access to plenty of tomes, he knows how men tend to join themselves when they wish to. He wants to know what it will feel like when Shigaraki finally decides he's worthy of having his massive cock inside of him. It's a thought that has him hard when he's alone in his room at night, desperately trying not to touch himself because he has a feeling that he'll be punished for that if Shigaraki finds out that he's done it. 

Shigaraki's posture is already perfect, but he seems to try to straighten more beside him, and that tells Dabi that he is slouching. He used to have good posture, but after nearly a decade of being told to make himself smaller and less regal, his spine began to bow. He is having to learn to hold his head high again. So he straightens and waits. The gates are open today, they open most days, to allow people to come and go, attending to their various businesses around the grounds and in the city beyond. That means it's impossible to tell when the young woman is going to come through, and they end up waiting, the three other men chatting and trying to involve him in their conversation for well over an hour before they hear a loud, 

"Shiggy," in a feminine voice ringing out around the grounds. 

Dabi has never seen Shigaraki slip in public. Even in their private moments, he is always so in control. But in this one, he sees the emotions flood across the other man's face. He sees the way the smile lights up his eyes first, sees how it splits his features, and he moves. He breaks his post to rush, in step with Jin, over to the young woman who is throwing her hood off of her head. Her hair is a little past her shoulders and yellow as wheat, bright topaz eyes matching with thick, dark lashes framing them, and a smile of her own that is so bright that the sun may be hidden behind the clouds today because it knew its radiance would not be able to eclipse her joy. She all but leaps into Shigaraki's arms and holds onto him so tightly as the knight clings to her as well, lifting her from the ground as he hugs her. They're too far away now for Dabi to hear what they are saying, but as Jin reaches them too, the woman reaches to bring him into the hug as well. There is a sinking in Dabi's gut as he watches this all happen. Joy like this is so rare in his world, in the kingdom. The war has been raging for nearly a century and a half, fought by his father's father before him. So many die or are separated from the people they want to be with in the pursuit of a victory that will help to bring all of this suffering to an end. But there is no end in sight. It was something that he'd had to start thinking about when he was next in line for the throne, but now that responsibility lies with Shoto. He doesn't know how his youngest brother could possibly find a way to bring peace to the kingdom, so he supposes he'll just have to hope that when he becomes king, he can at least bring a bit more of this kind of joy here instead. 

The three have to move out from the middle of the road to stop impeding traffic, but that spurs them to move back over to him and the merchant. Shigaraki's eyes are still bright when he approaches him. "Toga, this is Prince Dabi, my charge, and Dabi, this is Himiko Toga, my adoptive sister." 

"Hello!" She curtsies to him but pops back up very quickly. "It's nice to meet you!" 

"Nice to meet you too, your... brother has been so excited to bring you home." 

Toga grins, one of her arms around Shigaraki's waist and her body pressed into his side as her eyes move from him to take in the rest of the palace grounds. "This looks like it will be a great home." She tells Shigaraki. 

Shigaraki's eyes are on his when he tells her, "It is certainly better than I first thought it would be." 

///

Their days change again now that Toga is in the castle. She often sneaks out of the camp early in the morning and waits with Jin for them at the training grounds, wearing trousers and a tunic, her hair tied up into two uneven buns. She trains with a dagger more than a sword against the shade he conjures for her. Her dress is already scandalous but apparently even the two strange men he's come to know are aware that she would never be able to get away with carrying around a sword. But Dabi can't help his confusion as they pause for a break on the third day after her arrival. 

"Why are you learning to fight? Now that you are in my sister's employ, you will have all of the protections of the castle and guards-- as soon as the ball has ended." 

Toga gives him a strange look and the expression is at least partially mirrored on the faces of the other two as well. "Everyone should know how to fight." She says.

"No, they shouldn't," Dabi tells her carefully. "That is why my father has such strict laws and recruiting practices for the armies of the kingdom. He may not always do good, but he is always trying to do right by the people of his kingdom. He wants to ensure that the violence of the war does not seep into every aspect of our citizens' lives." 

"And what happens if your armies fail?" Shigaraki says his tone harder than it has been in a long time and his eyes flat and cold. "If your guards cannot hold the borders, the way they so often fail to? Then enemy forces will flood those villages. They can pillage, plunder, devour, rape, and inflict other violences and horrors on your citizens that have no way of protecting themselves. When the dragons come to the borders, those people are lucky if they are eaten before the demonic soldiers swell through the streets. They know it too. The amount of times people are found hanging in their own homes because they couldn't bear to endure or fight to live or flee is disgusting." Shigaraki's voice is cold and furious when he speaks and Dabi is left staring at him. "Everyone should know how to defend themselves. A soldier's training should be imparted to everyone alongside their basic education so that even if the crown fails, the people will not be so easily trounced and subjugated  by whoever comes to take their place." 

Dabi struggles to find words. Shigaraki is always spouting off things that are near treason when they are alone, but this kind of challenge against the crown and the way their military is run is actually treacherous. If anyone heard him speaking like this, he would be lucky if he only had his tongue cut out. It feels unnatural, and the other man doesn't even flinch, but he brings his hand across his face anyway. "Do not ever speak of the crown being overtaken again. Words like that breed misfortune and the darkness in the hearts of our enemies." 

There's not even a mark on Shigaraki's cheek, and his eyes are cold when they meet his again. "Yes, your highness." 

"If your sister wants to learn to fight, that is her prerogative." She shouldn't be doing it and it could get her ostracized and potentially fired from her position if her unladylike decorum is brought to the attention of anyone else, but it is her choice, so long as she can keep it hidden. "But do not make the mistake of thinking that your knighthood allows you to speak so freely about matters of state." 

"Yes, your highness." He turns his attention back to his sister who looks like she'd very much like to gut him with the dagger in her hand for his treatment of her brother. But Shigaraki makes her shift her attention back to her forms and Dabi resumes his own training. His hand feels wrong for the rest of the day, but he had to do it. Has to show Shigaraki that he cannot be so blatant in his disrespect. If he becomes too comfortable making his criticisms with him, then he could say something inappropriate in front of the wrong person, and he wouldn't even have a chance to try to save him, his father's wrath would be so immediate and complete. The thought of the knight being lost to him is something too heavy in his chest for him to endure. So he has to learn. He has to stay safe. 

Though the rest of their training is tense, when he returns to his rooms with Shigaraki, the other man doesn't turn the punishment back on him. He just catches his wrist before he lets Dabi go to bathe. He holds him and looks at the palm that came across his cheek and then he brings it to his face again, this time to press a kiss to his skin. But he says nothing and he lets go of him almost immediately after, moving to take up his position at the door again. Dabi hopes that means that he understands why he did it. 

But after his bath, he's allowed to eat and study for a while, until Shigaraki urges him to visit his sister so he can see his own again as well. Toga, when she's not practicing with a blade, is working hard. The young woman doesn't have the wealth of magic that Shigaraki has, but she does have her own unique ability. She is able to mimic any spell cast in front of her if she has a drop of the caster's blood. Apparently trying to mimic something beyond her abilities can leave her unconscious for days and may even kill her if the spell manages to work at all, but taking a drop of Fuyumi's blood on her tongue allows her to cut his sister's work in half as she can go bolt by bolt with her over the many layers of fabric her gown all needs embroidered. She is more than happy to prick her finger each day to be able to get her work done more quickly, as it will give her dressmakers breathing room to ensure that the final piece is everything that will be expected of all of them.  

And while she and Toga work, the young woman talks and talks. She seems to have so many things to say, so many questions about what it's like to be a princess and prince, what their life in the castle is like when they're not attending court, what their court is like. While Shigaraki seems to have nothing but contempt for the entire world that he has found himself in since his abilities awakened, Toga is all bright curiosity. 

"You don't have meals together?" She asks as she sits on the floor with the bolt laid out in front of her. His sister currently only has one worktable in the room, but he believes she's having another made if Toga is going to stick around to continue to help her with her craft. For now, the polished floor is the only other place in this room that is large enough for her to get a meter of the fabric in front of her to create the repeating pattern reliably. 

"No. The king takes his meals either alone or occasionally with his advisors. When I am not entertaining, I take my meals in my room, as does Toya." 

"We always take all of our meals together." Toga tells them. "In the main hall, everyone gathers to eat and talk. It's almost like a festival every night." Which is higher praise of an orphanage than Dabi had really expected, but he supposes, given her and Shigaraki's close bond, that even if the people running it weren't kind or warm, the children stuck there forged their own bonds. "Since Prince Shoto's birthday is coming up, will that be a big festival?" 

"It will be a celebration." Fuyumi says with a tentative smile. "There will be a formal dinner and some dancing and mingling, but it won't be a festival. Our brother is spending most of his time embroiled in his military studies and our father wants to put the border skirmish to an end swiftly. Unless that manages to be settled before Shoto's birthday, he will only allow an evening of revelry before they both resume their work." 

"Oh, that's boring. You all barely get to see each other, right? It sucks that you're not going to get to spend more time with your other siblings even on a special occasion." 

Fuyumi's smile is a little fractured when she looks at Toga. He doesn't know when the desire to have a family that is whole and healthy crystalized in her, but it is something she longs for, and he can see how much it's weighing on her to not have it now. "The four of us spend time together whenever we can. And Toya still comes to visit me, so what else can I really ask for? We're at war." 

"You could ask for better company," Shigaraki says, speaking for the first time in hours. "From what I hear, Prince Shoto has a far fairer temperament than Dabi." 

"I am more than fair enough for you, you pompous dragon slayer!" He snaps automatically, but there is further relief in him at just hearing the other's voice again since he reprimanded him this morning. 

"I haven't killed any of the dragons I've fought so far." He says pointedly. 

"Shoto certainly has a kinder temperament than Toya." Fuyumi, the traitor, agrees. "Do you two have any other... siblings?" 

"Oh yeah," Toga tells her happily. "We've got big sis Magne, she's a few years younger than Jin, and Spinner, he's Tomu's age and left a few months after him. He got to stay close by though, so I could still see him when neither of us were working. He promised that he'd come visit soon too." She says, looking back at Shigaraki. 

"He should come around for the party. Magne too if she's not too busy with her own responsibilities. The knights are supposed to have time afterward on their own for their hard work. We can spend time together and catch up." 

"Okay!" Toga beams at him. "I'll make sure to send them a message." 

It's still months off, for his and his brother's birthdays, but if she wants to send mail that far south then it's probably good to send that information out sooner rather than later. Half of the knights on the guard, the older ones who have been here for longer, will be off duty during the festivities, encouraged to try and find suitable potential partners who will be able to bring more magic and status to the kingdom, while the younger ones like Shigaraki should be free of their duties for three days two days after the festivities themselves once the foreign guests have left. If they want to see their other friends from the orphanage, then that's something that Toga has every right to request, even if Shigaraki might get a talking to from his father if he doesn't determine Shigaraki's friends to have any exploitable power. 

"Are you liking it here?" He asks Toga. "Your asshole of a brother has been glowering since he arrived." 

"Shiggy gets really serious about work." Toga says automatically. "But he's a lot more fun when he's off the clock! He and Spinner love to play games at festivals and bars. He usually puts people off by smiling and laughing too much." 

"Am I not allowed to enjoy myself?" Shigaraki sounds a bit amused by her declaration. 

Dabi suddenly wonders if he's ever even seen him happy before. He thought that... Shigaraki was enjoying himself when he's made him degrade himself. But maybe the satisfaction he takes from his body isn't real the way that he thought it was. Maybe it was just... nothing. Maybe it was just a way to pass the time and find physical satisfaction that he couldn't get as easily as he could before he was trapped in this castle. 

"When you're cackling like a demon? No. It's off-putting." Toga tells him. She is very personable and cheerful, so she keeps the conversation going for as long as Fuyumi can let their visit go on before she has other things to see to for the day.

///

"You're getting good at that," Shigaraki tells him, his hand petting through his hair as Dabi kneels on the stone floor of his bedchambers, the guard's cock sunk as deep into his throat as he can take it. It still makes his eyes burn like they want to prickle with tears on the edges, but the weight of the other in his mouth and the taste of his skin is something that Dabi is scared he's going to start to crave. Oh, if anyone ever found out how much he likes to be on his knees for Shigaraki, he thinks that he might die. Shigaraki calls him a whore sometimes and his skin gets so hot, but if the kingdom knew what he was doing, then even death wouldn't be able to restore his lost honor in their eyes. But he likes having his mouth full, likes how Shigaraki's hand cards through his hair and moves around to cradle the back of his head, not forcing himself any deeper, but just... holding him. Dabi can't help looking up at the other through his lashes, his body and chest so full of warmth as he sucks and swallows around him the way that he was taught. Shigaraki's eyes meet his and he sees... something flicker through them. He doesn't know what it is, but he doesn't want to think about it. Not when he feels so heavy and so very light at the same time. He just wants the evidence of the other's enjoyment coating his throat and tongue. Dabi continues to work his mouth over his length, letting himself sink into the movements more deeply each time, his own arousal the only thing that keeps him from sinking into deep satisfaction as his mouth moves.

Shigaraki spills down his throat, not warning him before he does, just keeping him in place when he's deep inside so that Dabi will swallow away the salty, bitter stream of his cum as it splashes down his throat. It wasn't a flavor he liked at first, but now, he savors it, moving his tongue against his skin for a while longer after he's finished spilling to ensure that he has every drop of the other's release in his mouth. The knight makes him pull off once he's softened again and Dabi whines quietly when he's allowed to rest his cheek against his thigh as his hand continues to pet through his hair. The softness that comes after he's finished being disciplined makes his need so much higher and he doesn't know if he'll be allowed to cum today. He slipped during his training today and pulled some of his staples from his seams. They are bandaged over right now to keep him from bleeding, but new soldiers came in needing treatment. Shigaraki sent word to the healers, but no one has arrived yet, and Dabi would prefer it if they didn't until after they've seen to the wounded. His injury is from his own inability to get his training right, they deserve the attention more than him. He doesn't know if he deserves to feel good either when he wasn't able to perform the way Shigaraki expects him to even though he's getting stronger, and he doesn't dare ask. He still feels good now, even without an orgasm, he doesn't want to risk ruining that by getting more beratement for his uselessness if he begs for more. 

Shigaraki keeps stroking his hair as he murmurs, "Such a pretty blush on your cheeks, little prince. Lift your shirt for me." 

Dabi bites his lip to keep from whining. He's only wearing his shirt right now and when he's kneeling like this, it's only just long enough to cover himself up. But he reaches for the hem anyway with one hand and pulls it up, fisting the fabric against his stomach as his cock is chilled by the air of the room. 

"So cute how hard you get just having your filthy mouth used." His voice is still soft and the hand is gentle, but Dabi turns his face more into his leg so he doesn't have to look up at him and see whatever that flicker was in his eyes again. Maybe he's tired of this game. Maybe the contempt will turn to disinterest, pity, or, worst of all, indifference the way that everyone else's eyes have always turned when they look at him. He doesn't want to invite those looks because he thinks, after having these past few months of Shigaraki looking at him, he will shatter apart completely if it does happen. "Show me how cute your face is when you cum, baby boy." 

He wants to immediately put his hand on his cock, but he knows better, "Thank you, sir." He wants it, but he has to prove that he's good. He knows what he's supposed to do, how he's supposed to act when Shigaraki is the only person who has ever deigned to give him this. 

"You're being such a good boy today, sweetheart." His hand is so soft in his hair and his voice is so warm. "I think you've earned a reward. Do you want to sit in my lap, precious? Or do you want to stroke yourself?" 

That has him peeking up at the other man. His eyes are still bright on him, for now. "...I'm not... in trouble?" 

Shigaraki frowns at him, fingers stopping at the nape of his neck. "Why would you be in trouble, beautiful?"

"... We had to stop." 

That has his brows furrowing too and then the other hooks a hand under his arm and pulls him up, pulls him into his lap. "Princeling, people get hurt training. I'm sure that you had your fair share of pulled muscles and broken blisters even back when you were little. You're not in trouble." Both of his hands come to cup his cheeks and keep him looking at him. "I always tell you why you're being punished, don't I?" 

Dabi manages a small nod. 

"You're not being punished, little one." His thumbs are soft when they move over the lines of staples in his cheeks. "I just wanted to enjoy you being so cute." 

Dabi feels his face warm, but the words don't fully remove the tightness in his chest. Knights aren't forbidden from finding other company as long as they can do it discreetly, but Shigaraki has been taking his duties so seriously that he's barely ever away from Dabi's side for longer than to rest at night. He could have other partners. Ones who are actually cute instead of ruined the way he is. Ones that he doesn't need to punish at all because they can be good for him all the time. Shigaraki must see the flicker of those thoughts behind his eyes, because his are even softer on him when he carefully moves his hand down to his cock, stroking him so that he stays hard even as the mess in his head makes it difficult for him to focus. He very rarely has Shigaraki's hands on his body like this and the sharper spike of pleasure has him squirming slightly and whimpering. 

"You could have anyone." The words are weak and miserable. He could. Like Fuyumi, like Shoto. His magic is so strong, his father will want Shigaraki to have children, lots of them probably. He might even let him have a male lover if he agrees to sire those children with a female one. But he doesn't need to have him. The broken, useless prince who he has to train to be as good for him as he wants him to be. Someone who, if anyone discovered their entanglement, he would be reprimanded and Dabi might... he thinks that his siblings would at least argue for exile rather than execution. His father would never want him distracting one of his knights. They would never see each other again if anyone discovered them, and his... heart breaks at the thought of not having Shigaraki in his life anymore. He's only had Shigaraki for a few months, but if he had to go without him, he doesn't know if he would survive it. He needs the other man. He wants him to be in his life because his life, for the first time in years, feels worth holding onto. Losing that would break him in a way that he couldn't bear to experience. 

Shigaraki's other hand moves to catch his chin and make sure that he is looking at him even though he wants nothing more than to close his eyes and close out all that is happening to and around him. He doesn't want to look the other in the eyes and be told that he is only warming his cock until he can get a new assignment. That he exists like this because the other man was simply bored. And then Shigaraki speaks, "I chose you," and makes Dabi's heart swell so full that it takes away all of the echoes of grief that he was trying to claim before they'd even come for him. "You're mine, little prince." Shigaraki's voice is not as steady as it was before, there's a growl to it, a possessiveness that has his grip tightening against his skin and sending sharper pleasure spilling out over Dabi's nerves, the words and touch making him twitch against the knight's palm.

 He feels how much Dabi likes those words and the hunger in his expression goes ravenous. He lets go of Dabi's length and moves his hands to his hips, letting him rock forward against his thigh. Shigaraki's thighs are thick and muscled, and the texture of his trousers adds another intoxicating sensation when he's allowed to grind into his lap. Dabi's whole head feels dizzy with heat. This is a reward because Shigaraki knows how much he likes to be allowed to cum, but also how much he likes to be made helpless and small in his lap, so needy for his pleasure that he'd debase himself by humping his leg like a dog. 

Shigaraki lets him move, lips ghosting over the smooth skin of his cheek to kiss the blush there before he's murmuring, "That's it, little one. Why would I ever want anyone else? My pretty little princeling who was so lost, but who has shown me every step of the way how badly he wants to be more than what he was forced to be. My sweet boy who always takes his punishments and learns to be better. My darling lo-- my darling," he corrects the word, moving his thigh up against Dabi to distract him from the slip, "who won't ever be the jewel of the kingdom again because I am going to selfishly keep you all to myself. I am going to tear down this world to make a place perfect enough for you to sit, my precious prince. How could you ever doubt how deeply my affection goes, little one?" He asks, face nuzzling into his neck. "Perhaps you do need to be punished. I know that those lovely eyes are sharper than that when they are open and attentive." 

"No, no, no," he can't be punished now. Not when the words are putting pleasure under his skin as sharply as the frantic movements of his hips, getting easier with each one because he's starting to leak all over the other's pants with his desperation to cum. 

"'No', you don't want to be mine? Or 'no', you're such a desperate little whore that you don't want to stop?" 

"Don't stop," he whines, his voice breathless and thin. 

Shigaraki presses a kiss to his neck like he isn't disgusted by his scars. "Oh, my precious one, it is a miracle that you were not born a commoner or you would have ended up a harlot. A miracle that you were born a prince and made to wait all of these years so that I could be the first one to get to experience your pleasure. A gift to get to train your needy body to adore my touches instead of letting you be tainted by less worthy hands." 

Dabi has wanted a lot of things in his life. He wanted to be a dragon slayer. He wanted to grow his magic beyond his father's expectations. He wanted to recover from his injuries. He wanted to even just be acknowledged by the court afterwards. He has wanted so much and so ardently that Dabi thought that would be all he was for the rest of this life. But none of those aches can compare to how much he wants Shigaraki. His touches, the words, the idea of... of belonging to someone if he can't even belong in his own kingdom. He wants someone as devoted to him as the other man says he will be. He would kneel at his feet and take any punishment that he's earned for the rest of his life if he could have this. 

But he's selfish, and he asks for a little more as he tries to turn his face to Shigaraki's, his mouth panting and desperate, and seeking out his skin. He's never been allowed to put his lips on his body save for along his cock. He hasn't been allowed so many things during their entanglements even though he wants them so badly, and when he turns his face to try and get a kiss, he is not given it this time either, putting a stone back in his guts. 

When Shigaraki pulls back to look at him though, all of the heat is still there. "Not yet, precious. Not until you've chosen me too." 

"I want you." He tells the other, his fingers digging into the muscle of his chest as he tries to cling to him. 

"I know, little one. But you can't choose me yet. Not until you know every inch of who I am." He presses a kiss to the edge of his lips and moves his thigh again. "For now, all you have to do is choose to let yourself have your pleasure." 

"Please," Let him cum, let him in, he just wants it all. Tomura holds him closer as he dips his head again to his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his throat as his hands move over Dabi's skin. One hand up to his chest, fingers teasing at his nipples, the other helping him keep the rhythm that brings his pleasure higher and higher. When he manages to cum, it's when his body is trembling and tight, his need an ache inside of him as Tomura strokes his skin. 

They lay together in his bed and that sends a heavier, sweeter pleasure through his veins as he lets himself cling to the other man, their chests pressed together, his nose against the other's collarbone. Tomura's hands move along his back and his hair, petting him as Dabi's breathing goes steady again. 

"...You never talk about yourself. Jin and Toga tell me more about you than you do." His voice is so small as he clings to the other, his fingers touching the deep scars that are carved into Tomura's back that he still doesn't know how they got there. 

Tomura's hands tighten on him too. "You will know everything about me when it's time, then you can decide if you want to be with me afterward." 

"When?" He doesn't want to keep waiting. The skirmish on the border will end eventually. Takami might take his post back and Dabi won't be able to see Tomura anymore. 

Tomura shifts so he can take one of Dabi's hands in his own, fingertips running up his before he threads them together. "When someone new sits on your father's throne. When this kingdom is not rotted from that poisoned root. When you can stand tall and choose who you want to kneel to and what your future will bring." 

Dabi holds onto him tighter. "I want a future with you." 

"Then we will walk the halls together. Everyone will know that you are mine and that all of my devotion belongs to you. Our future will stretch out into an unending line of possibilities." Red eyes on him, no flicker of hesitation or insincerity in them. 

"It's so far away," his throat is tight. Years until Shoto takes the throne, more before his father dies. How can the other be so certain that he will still want him after all of that time? "He could send you away at any moment." 

"I would tear down this entire world before I let anyone take me from your side, my prince." 

Tomura kisses his knuckles and Dabi believes him, but he's about to beg for a real kiss. One against his lips, but he manages to change the direction his tongue wags. "How did your back get hurt?" 

The other man rubs his thumb along his knuckles for a moment, and then he lets out a shaky breath. "It never did. Those aren't scars, precious, they're something I was born with." 

They're so deep and the texture of them makes the muscles beneath feel strange under his other hand. "Does it hurt?" 

"No, but it could be more comfortable." 

Dabi touches the mark and feels a strange shifting beneath his shoulder blade. He's about to ask what he means by that when a sharp knock against his door has both of them tensing on the bed. 

"Toya?" Natsuo's voice comes from the other side and Dabi's entire body flushes even as his stomach swoops with his fear. They can't be seen so disheveled together. Shigaraki takes his hand from his own and taps easily into his magic to clean their skin and his pants as they both sit up. They both move swiftly, not daring to pause to exchange any further words. The knight pulls his shirt, tunic, and bracers back on as Dabi pulls on his pants, leaving his bandaged side exposed as if he'd just left the shirt off after being bandaged. Shigaraki looks so put together that Dabi could believe that nothing had been happening between them just a moment before, but he aches with the need for it back. The future they were imagining, the honesty the other man was giving him, it made something inside him ache so keenly that he doesn't know how he could have lived without it before now. 

When he's sitting on the bed, not looking like he was just being debauched by his guard, Shigaraki lowers the wards around the room and goes to open the door. It's been at least two months since he's gotten to see Natsuo in anything but passing, and though his brother looks tired already from a long morning with the soldiers, he still has a smile for him as he moves past Shigaraki and greets him. 

He only seems to notice that Shigaraki is not Takami, but he doesn't pay the knight any other attention as he helps to close the wound on his side. Dabi is happy to see his brother, but he can't deny that he's mourning the loss of closeness that was between he and Tomura when, by the time Natsuo leaves, it feels like it would be unnatural and jarring to try and find it again. He will get it, get to know every inch of the other man, when Tomura has decided he's earned it. He can work for that and wait patiently when there is nothing he can do to speed it along. 

It's only as he's going to sleep that night after Shigaraki has left that Dabi realizes that this is the first time in nearly a decade that he is looking forward to the future. 

///

Dabi is not a morning person, but getting up early to train each day has at least become routine enough that he isn't as aggressively unhappy about it. It's better now, anyway, because Tomura will wake him with kisses to his brow and cheeks, affection to get him to start the day in a less cranky manner than before. However, even if he's gotten used to being up early, that does not mean that he is prepared for Toga bounding over to them as soon as they step foot onto the training grounds, beaming and immediately catching Tomura's hands so that she can bounce around as squeal. 

"Big sis and Spinner are coming to the party!" Her voice is too loud and joyous for this time of the morning and even his knight seems to think the same as he pulls his hands from hers so that he can level a flick that makes a loud thump against her forehead. "Ow!" 

"We already knew they were coming to the party. I wouldn't have had you send the invitation if I didn't expect them to attend." He informs her with a dryness that is usually reserved for when Dabi is having one of his low days and he wants to get him moving again. 

"Yeah, but they're already on their way!" Toga tells him, pulling a letter from the pocket of her vest. 

That piques Shigaraki's interest more than her outburst did and he takes the letter from her hand so that he can flick it open. His eyes scan the contents quickly, "That is good news. They should be able to get a room at one of the local inns and rest there from their trip. I'll bring you some of my coin tomorrow. I won't be able to greet them until I'm no longer on duty, so when they arrive, make sure that you give them the gold for me." 

"Okay!" She's still practically dancing through her forms as they get back to their sparring, but at least she's not talking at a mile a minute while their blades cross. 

Jin and Shigaraki step off to the side to talk, watching as they spar. Probably discussing what they'll need to work on next. Dabi isn't about to say that he has anywhere near the knight or former soldier's prowess with a sword, but he is getting better. If someone pulled a sword on him now, he would be able to defend himself now instead of having no recourse but begging for his life. But Shigaraki and Jin stay talking for a while as he and Toga finish their set, both having moved a little further away from them in a clear sign that they don't want to be bothered. When Toga sees that, she pulls him down into the sand pit so they can lay on the soft ground, her finger tracing patterns into the earth. He tries not to shiver. It's getting colder as winter proper sets in. Their kingdom is blessed with more mild ones than those up north, the first of usually barely half a dozen snows often coming around his and Shoto's birthdays, but it is cool enough now that, as the sweat dries on his skin, that he is starting to feel that chill more acutely. 

"I can't wait for you to meet them!" She tells him. "Big sis is so cool and strong and Spinner likes to read too when he's not playing cards or dice with Shiggy. They're going to love to meet you!" 

"I'm sure that your friends will just be excited to see Shigaraki again. How long has it been for the three of them?" 

Toga hums. "They got to see each other in passing a few months ago, but they didn't get to talk. And they're going to want to meet you too! He's been saying forever that he wasn't ever going to get involved with someone until after the war was over, but just a few months with you and he changed his tune." She snickers and Dabi's whole body goes cold from something other than the chill. 

The blood drains from his face as he sits up. His stomach swoops. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lies. "Shigaraki is just my guard." That's all the rest of the world can know about him if he doesn't want the other man to be taken away from him. He wouldn't ever be allowed to hold onto him if anyone else knew.

"What? Wait," Toga pushes herself up from the ground as well. "You aren't dating? But he's so in love with you--!" She slaps both hands over her mouth with a distressed squeak as Dabi's head whips around to look at her. The flurry of emotions that go through him feel like they're impossible to distinguish from one another.

But all he manages to croak out is, "What?" In the wake of her declaration. 

"Oh no, don't tell him I told you!" She says in a hushed voice, even though it could have been a scream with her desperation in it. 

"Did he say that?" Hope is the one that swells big enough in his chest that he's able to name it. 

"I'm not supposed to tell you if you don't know."

He thinks that might mean 'yes'. Love? His eyes turn to find Tomura speaking with Jin across the training grounds. His expression is grim and determined, a far cry from the softness that he gets now whenever the other comes into his bed. They still haven't kissed. The other man hasn't ever sunk inside his body. He has never said those words to him. But it warms him to the place where the embers of his magic burned out years ago when he thinks that the other could mean those words. When he can really believe that the future that Tomura pictured with him when they were tangled in his sheets is really, truly, something that he wants to. He never thought that he would be allowed to have love bloom in his chest, not until after his father was dead at the very least, but this is something precious and wonderful that he wants to cradle deep inside, secret it away into a small soft part of his heart so that no other hardship or cruel hand in the world will be able to reach for it and shatter it apart. 

He sees Tomura and Jin break off their conversation and come over to the two of them, and Dabi hopes he can keep the aching emotion off of his face as he looks up at the knight. 

"Get out of there. If that sand gives you an infection, your brother will have my head." His tone is cool and unimpressed. So easy for him to pretend to still have the contempt, even tempered, that he held for him at the very beginning of their entanglement. A ruse for the rest of the world to keep them far from the truth that he wants to believe is really living in both of their hearts. 

"If anyone ever gets to take your head," he says with a haughtiness that doesn't feel nearly as natural as it once might have, "it's going to be me."

Shigaraki's eyes flicker. That shadow and then the big inconceivable emotions that Dabi hopes that he'll someday always be able to name in his lover's eyes. "I'll hold you to that." But then Jin starts talking about the next set of exercises that he wants to teach them and he pushes himself into the training even harder than before. Tomura's love is not based on this. He wanted him to be alive, didn't want him to waste away, readying himself to die at any moment the way that he had been before they'd met. He believes everyone should know how to fight so that the strong enemies that they fight won't be able to hurt them the way that he must have seen so many hurt before. But he thinks that the other man would love him still even if he decided not to continue his training. So long as he dedicated himself to something else. This is as good a thing as any though, as he waits for that wonderful future that they envisioned together to come about. 

///

The last three weeks before Shoto's birthday finally actually sees his brother return from his post. He is taller than he was the last Dabi saw him, his height now, which does leave him pouting because that probably means that he's going to grow to Natsuo and their father's height. He doesn't have the responsibilities as the oldest, and now he's going to be the second shortest in their family like he needed another slight against his pride. 

"I'm going to cut off your feet." He tells Shoto when his younger brother catches him in the hallway as he's coming back from his training with Shigaraki. 

"My bones will keep growing," Shoto replies evenly without a pause. It is improper and his father would certainly have something to say about it, but Shoto doesn't hesitate to move into his space and give him a hug. His magic leaves half of his body unnaturally cold, and the other half sweltering with heat, the sensation so unique and strange that he can never forget it, and that makes his chest ache. It's been four years since he was able to give his brother a hug, but neither of them dare linger long out of fear of one of his father's more loyal knights spotting them. Shoto won't be reprimanded for speaking to him, but Dabi could end up punished again for distracting his attention, no matter how briefly. "What are you wearing, Toya?" He asks as he sees his training clothes. He hasn't dressed like this in front of his brother since he was barely five. 

"I've been training again," he stands up straighter as he says it. He might not ever be a warrior like him, but he can be something. He can learn how to stand upright and not embarrass their family name any more than he already has. "How has your training gone? You haven't only been fighting at the border, have you?" He is supposed to be training with the other younger soldiers. He could have been knighted immediately, like Shigaraki had been, but Shoto had insisted on entering the school for this nation's warrior mages and going through all of the years of training from a page onwards. He didn't want to use his family name to advance through the rankings without being able to see what exactly the soldiers he would someday be commanding had to go through as well. It's something that their grandfather had forced Enji to do when he was a boy, so this ended up being something that Shoto had been able to argue for when he turned twelve. He's only two years away from his graduation now, and when he does, he will be able to be crowned if his father chooses to step down then, else, Shoto will be able to command their soldiers himself as he takes up a more prominent position in the war room. 

There is a tightness around his brother's eyes when he speaks again. "Not the whole time, no." He doesn't offer him more than that at first, and Dabi worries that he'll get nothing more. That the time away from each other and with Enji dripping poison in his little brother's ears has made him believe that Dabi is not worthy of knowing the truth of what is happening in their kingdom beyond these walls. "We've lost ten miles and the line is still wavering." He says after a moment and sinks Dabi's stomach like lead. "I'll only be here for a day or two after the party. My school is being asked to offer more support to make up for the knights that we lost." 

"How many-- Who?" His father's knights number, he thinks, around fifty now. A dozen are always kept close to the capital to ensure that no one ever manages to get close to the castle and do damage when they might be unguarded. The others are scattered across the country using their heightened arcane abilities to support their foot soldiers and keep the tides of battle in their favor. 

"Eleven, so far." Shoto tells him, his face pinching further with his unhappiness. "Takami was lost in the last battle." 

Dabi stares, convinced for a moment that he's heard his brother wrong. That damned, lazy, irritating bird was the fastest soldier in their army. Nothing in the world has ever been able to touch him. He always used to say that his great speed was to make up for the fact that as soon as he was off duty, he would do nothing else but laze about. He always used to complain that the war needed to end soon so that he could have a long life of doing nothing afterward. Dabi will not pretend that he was fond of the knight and his attitude. How he belittled him with a smile and worshipped the ground that his father walked on, but he won't pretend either, that he didn't in some way think that the harpy would outlive him. That his arrogance and the ability to back it up with the incredible feats of magic he could weave through his feathers wouldn't keep him alive until long after Dabi was finally thrown away when his father figured out a way of doing so. 

Shoto seems to know that the news isn't something that he will have an easy time grappling with, and he squeezes his shoulder with his cool palm. "He protected my classmate when he did. Another harpy. He'll carry on the hard work while Keigo gets to rest forever now. I'm sure that he's still having the last laugh now." 

Dabi still doesn't know if he believes that, or if he even wants the comfort that Shoto is trying to extend to him. He didn't even like Takami. He hated him more than he even hated Shigaraki at the start of their association. Maybe he doesn't have to like someone to be shaken by their death however. "Maybe. Will you be going back to the fighting when you leave then?" 

"Maybe. Right now we're mostly focusing on helping to execute evacuation orders and provide healing where we can." If they are already losing so many knights, the chances of them having to go into the frontlines again, if not the older students who are a bit closer to graduation, isn't out of the question. The war is something that happens far away and that has been going on for so long that Dabi forgets sometimes the brutal, ugly shape of it. He forgets that Shoto might not get to become king if he does not survive what it throws at him and the thought of losing his brother, of losing the chance at the kingdom having a future without his father at the throne, sickens him more than whatever flicker of grief went through him at the loss of the other knights. 

He reaches for his brother's shoulder in turn and squeezes too. "Stay alive." 

"I'll do what I can." He says just as evenly, mismatched eyes steady on him. They hear other footsteps coming from down the hall and they release each other, Shoto straightening again. 

"Happy birthday." It's still a few days off, but he isn't sure he'll even be able to speak to Shoto the day of when his father will surely be hovering over his heir and trying to keep Dabi sinking into the shadows of the party. 

"You too." No one remembers his birthday comes so near to Shoto's. No one has celebrated it in years. Dabi is sure that their father deliberately keeps his siblings far away from him on that day so they do not imply that they are happy that he is still seeing the years pass by when he could have stopped embarrassing his father and their kingdom by dying ages ago. His brother breaks away from he and Shigaraki, moving swiftly down the hall so that he has turned the corner before the people approaching can see he was even in the same area as him. 

He and Tomura make their way back to his chambers and when the door is shut and sealed with the knight's magic, Dabi simply begins to strip away his clothes so he can clean the sweat and dirt from his body as he does every day after his training. He's not expecting for the silence coming from the other end of the room to be so stark and complete. Usually Tomura talks to him when they get back to his room. He tells him if he did well or if he has any particular area for him to focus on improving. He asks if he wants his meal sent up, or if he is going to study for the day, or he... tells him if he's going to give him a reward or punishment that he might not have been able to have otherwise. But today he's very quiet and Dabi has only stripped his shirt before he's turning to find the other maintaining his post at his door, looking across the room at the large windows. The sky is covered in thick clouds that rolled in a few days ago and have not broken since and they are as deep and inscrutable as the expression on his face. 

"Tomura?" 

His lover's eyes turn to him, but there is still a pause before he speaks again. "Your kingdom is losing the battle." 

"We've lost territory before." They've won it back too. The Demon King's armies are tenacious, but they are not absolute. Decades of this war and they have held the line. The lives lost, the battles fought are something to mourn, of course. He just knows that the thing that is tightening his throat is a different fear. "... Has my father said that he is going to send more knights?" Because if Tomura goes, if he loses him, then Dabi doesn't know if he'll still believe that there's any reason to keep fighting at all. 

"... He's mentioned it." He holds Dabi's gaze and then they are so much closer as his feet eat up the stones between them as Dabi rushes into his space, fingers tangling into his shirt and holding onto him tightly. Tomura's hands come up immediately, wrapping around his waist and back, pulling him close and pressing their foreheads together. 

"Don't--" He can't tell him that he isn't allowed to leave. He doesn't have that kind of power. His father will move his soldiers as he pleases, and no matter how much Dabi feels he belongs to Tomura, the other man does not belong to him. 

Tomura hugs him closer and Dabi clings to him. "You are the only one who will ever be able to make me leave." It's a lie, but it's a kind one, a beautiful one, as they hold each other so tightly that Dabi lets himself believe that nothing will be able to tear them apart.

///

The night of Shoto's party is a bit bigger than he and Fuyumi had originally told Toga and Shigaraki. The formal dinner and mingling in the great hall is what was expected, but there are even more dignitaries present than he thought there would be, though now he understands why. If they are fighting at a loss right now, then it will be all the more important to sure up supply chains and to try and get Fuyumi a beneficial engagement. She looks stunning, of course, the work that she and Toga did on her dress is awe-inspiring. Every movement or flicker of torchlight sends the frost glittering across the layers of the pale grey fabric. Shoto is wearing his ceremonial armor and looking so much more grown up in it, like he's finally used to the weight of it, like he might not notice it as much because he knows how to wear his real armor into battle now. Natsuo is dressed similarly to Dabi, both of them in smart, respectable clothes that suit royalty, but Natsuo wears a broach on his breast of a skeletal hand, the hand and the forearm cast in pewter with the radius mended with a sliver of gold going through the center, the mark of a healer that he shows off well. Dabi has no armor or sigil to show that he has an artform he's studied to mastery, but he does, only for occasions like this, get to wear a simple gold circlet on his head. He's changed out his staples for gold today as well, and Tomura's hands had been so gentle and sweet against his skin as he helped him replace the ones he wears each day with these. He pressed kisses to his seams and cupped his face in his hands and stared at him like he was worried that might be the last moment they would ever spend together. There is a fear settling in his gut that Shigaraki has been ordered to leave with Shoto after the party, but he didn't want to tell him until after they spend time with his friends tomorrow, and that does keep him from really tasting his food at all during dinner. It fills his ears with cotton as people speak and soft music drifts around the room. 

Tomura stays by his side. He is his guard after all, even if he's certain, from the number of attractive women who come wearing necklaces with prisms, marking them as skilled practitioners of magic, that his father told him to mingle. If he's planning to send Shigaraki off to die, then he might want him to pick a partner, or a dozen, to try and ensure his strong magical bloodline remains. Shigaraki is polite to the women who approach, but he sends each of them off very easily by saying that he is on duty and unable to entertain. When they ask for when he will be available next, he simply tells them that he is unable to make plans for any time after the party. Easier than saying that he will have  time off for the next few days and that he would rather see his friends instead of spending time with any of them. 

Dabi is already painfully bored two hours after dinner. He isn't being spoken to, everyone present more than knowing not to associate with the spare prince. There is dancing going on at the center of the room and his chest warms as he sees his brother approach one of his classmates, a blond boy who doesn't seem to have any qualms about baring his teeth in a snarl and snapping at the crown prince when he asks him to dance. Even then, the blond does accept the invitation even if he's still complaining about it as he's taken to the floor. He's certain that his father will have a lecture for Shoto after the fact, but it is his birthday, he should be allowed to do whatever he likes today. 

"My prince?" He glances over at Tomura, wondering if someone has finally caught his eye, only to find the guard moving in front of him and offering his hand. Dabi immediately feels heat flood to his face. This is beyond improper. He cannot dance with his knight. He isn't even supposed to dance at all, not when that will draw attention to himself. Tomura's look does not waver as he holds his hand out. "Indulge me." 

And when has he ever been able to resist doing whatever his lover has asked of him? That sinking in his gut, the thing that tells him that Tomura is preparing for the worst, makes him even more desperate to hold onto what he can right now. He has been absolutely desperate to soak up as much of his lover's time and attention as he could for months now, and he knows the second he has to go without, none of those memories will ever be able to hold him together. He can't stand to let something like this slip through his fingers. He gives the other his hand and lets him take him to the center of the room as the music changes. 

Dabi knows this dance, he knows every dance. He has always enjoyed dancing. He taught Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shoto, but he hasn't been allowed to do so in public for eight years. This is a very structured one, only allowing partners to touch their fingertips together throughout most of the song, until the end when the leading partner pulls the following partner close and dips them to the floor, their foreheads allowed to touch, a kiss allowed to pass between them if appropriate. It's a dance of restraint and desire, a dance that often is done at the start of a courtship, at weddings, and when one wants to show off their devotion to their partner. Dabi is certain that this song was only set to be played because his father had hoped Fuyumi would select a suitor to dance with tonight. He's certain he did not want his oldest and youngest sons to be standing on the floor with a male partner preparing to show the entire kingdom that their hearts do not beat in the rhythm that he tried to force beneath his boot. He's certain that they will all be punished severely for it, but as his eyes meet Tomura's when their fingers touch, he knows that any punishment he receives will be worth it for the few minutes that they have like this. 

The music starts and the room slips to his periphery. Tomura leads. It's beyond impropriety. Even disgraced and discarded, he is a prince. He should never be openly subservient to his knight. He doesn't care. He wants everyone to know how wonderful his lover is at keeping him close, at showing him where to step next, at how to move forward when he spent so very long standing still and letting the world bury him in that spot. Tomura has made him something new, made him a person again instead of a ghost. He made 'Dabi' as real as Toya was. Love, that's what Toga had said. Love. It's living in his chest, aching to escape him, and every movement of their bodies to the song as their eyes stay locked over their joined hands, makes him desperate to let it out. He is in love with Tomura. He hasn't dared to tell him that even after all of these months, but he cannot keep them inside anymore. 

When the song comes to an end and Tomura pulls him in close, when gravity shifts as the other's hair falls around them in a curtain that blocks them off from the rest of the world, when their foreheads touch, Dabi breathes, "I love you." 

And red eyes go so stricken, haunted, as they gaze into his own. "Dabi--" 

The warning bells begin to ring before he can say anything else. 

Panic surges through his chest. Those bells are only rung if a dragon has been spotted flying towards their home. The last time they rang was thirty years ago, when his father stood on the highest parapet of the castle and brought out a fire so brilliant and complete that people believed that somehow there was a sun setting in the east and west at the same time as he turned a beast made of flames to ash. People around the hall start to panic, but as he wants to straighten up, Tomura holds him tighter, his other hand going to the floor. Dabi isn't expecting the loud crack that fills the air. The symphony of them as the floor all around them starts to crumble and people begin to scream as they fall into it. Some only lose their footing as they try to flee, others are sunk into the earth and stone to their knees. He shifts, pulling himself from the other's arms so he can see what is happening more clearly, but when Dabi is out of his arms, Tomura puts both hands against the stone floor and that cracking sound comes again. The floor contracts, the people who were trapped inside of it are screaming all the more loudly as bones crunch and blood blooms across suits and dresses. 

"Tomura," his name is croaked as he realizes that this is his doing. His magic leaching out to hurt the guests. His magic which has swallowed up Natsuo to his waist, Shoto and his date as well. His head reels to try and find Fuyumi and he does spot her-- with one of Toga's familiar dagger's to her throat as she uses his sister as a shield from his father who is trying to melt the stone he has been trapped in. 

"Traitor!" His father snarls through the din of panic all around. Traitor. Dabi's chest feels like it's full of glass shards. Traitor. He always made his hatred of the kingdom so plain, but he-- His eyes burn. How could he have ever been so stupid? The weak, pathetic, discarded prince. He must have been such an easy target. Why kill him when he could use him to bring more insurgents into the castle. Why not just use him for everything that he could? Shigaraki's hands are still on the stone as his eyes turn to look at his father before the stone crunches again. It moves again. This time dragging people to the side of the throne room so that there is an open aisle between the throne and the doors. 

"I am not a traitor, Enji Todoroki." No one has addressed his father by name without title in decades, and hearing it almost makes his ears sting like the first time he heard the rough, common language of swears after years of careful tutoring. Shigaraki straightens up and brings a hand to the collar of his breastplate. His magic passes over it, withering the metal to nothing but rust, before he curves his fingers into it and pulls it from his body. It clangs loudly against the floor as the other straps and bits of metal fall as well. Until he is standing wearing entirely unfamiliar clothes. Black leathers in a cut that leaves the entirety of his back exposed, that leave his arms open to the air and without protection, thicker plates of black armor curving over his sternum and along his pecs and over his stomach, wrapped around his thighs and padding his knees. And then his hair begins to grow, lengthening to the middle of his back and being pushed aside as his shoulders roll and the sound of tearing flesh fills the room. Dabi stares at him as deep red scales start to inch across his cheeks and forehead, black horns of bone jutting jaggedly from his head, his pupils growing slitted and large fangs filling his mouth, a tail and wings blooming from his skin, the tail lizard-like and bladed at the end, and the wings massive and the deepest red as they flare out behind him. 

A dragon. One powerful enough that his magic could disguise his true nature. There are more screams coming from inside of the room and Dabi's eyes search frantically. Why have none of the soldiers broken free of the shattered floor? Why are the alarms still ringing but nothing is being done? He finds his answer as his eyes catch on familiar black shades that have moved up behind every soldier that is in the hall, blood pouring crimson across their armor as Jin slits their throats as he slips in from the secret entrance behind the throne. The entrance that only the royal family and their knights know about. The only soldiers spared are the young ones– the ones from his brother's school who are being restrained by them. 

Shigaraki turns his attention to the king, moving over to him. His father throws out his hands, trying to incinerate him, but the massive wall of flame that Dabi knows will swallow him up as well, is caught against his palm, his own magic bursting over every inch of the flames and extinguishing them into nothing but a cloud of ash that coats the entire room and his skin. Dabi and most of the other people who are trapped in this room are left coughing as it fills their lungs. "I am not part of your kingdom. I told you when you first tried to knight me that I only wanted to return to the border. You bright me into your home. You demanded each inch of my life in service of your kingdom even after I had already done the grace of sparing a village. My father always said you were a mortal so hungry for power that you could not see reason or extend mercy. I came to your court hoping that you would prove me wrong and instead what do I find?" He raises his voice as the warning bells are suddenly and completely silenced. 

"A kingdom ruled by a tyrant! A king that forces his subjects to their knees, who searches for the powerful and ensures that they have so little that any scrap that the crown offers them convinces them of the kingdom's benevolence instead of its cruelty! A monster who forces his children to be pawns until he decides that they are not worthy of life! How many times did you offer me your daughter's hand if I used my own to slit your first born son's throat?" Shigaraki snarls, looking so monstrous and inhuman for a moment that Dabi is only staring at him and doesn't hear the words that he's spoken as he wraps that deadly, destructive hand, fingers tipped with long black talons, around his father's face. 

"What?" There is a coldness. A numbness inside of him that is spreading throughout his whole body. 

Shigaraki's tail flicks, his wings pull in tighter against his back. "Seven. Offered to me each month I stayed in his service. Tonight was the last night the offer would stand. After tonight, he would send me to the frontlines, select your sister's suitor, and reassign a new guard who would not be given the option. I trained you so that no one would be able to slip a dagger between your ribs so easily, little prince." 

Dabi wants to say that he's lying. He wants to cry out that he betrayed him, he wants to pick up a sword and try to kill a dragon the way he always thought he was meant to when he was a child. But he is silent. His siblings are silent. The whole room is deafening with it. None of them can argue because that is precisely the kind of thing that his father would do. 

The doors to the main hall burst open, sending fresh screams through the room as they do. He gets a glimpse of the hall behind and sees red smeared across the floor, more guards laying limp against the stones as a dragon woman with scales of deepest black across her wings, tail, and in patches across her skin, with vibrantly red hair, a warhammer slung over her shoulder, and with crimson splashed across her skin steps into the room alongside another dragon, his hair lavender and pulled back, scales green and covering all of his exposed body, giving him a far more extreme resemblance to the dragons in their true forms than he's ever seen on humanoid features, carrying a sword that is nearly as wide as he is and just as long. They are barely across the threshold before Toga is squealing, 

"Magne! Spinner!" As she breaks away from Fuyumi, leaving his sister unguarded and, seemingly, unharmed. He moves immediately to her, half scared, as he runs past some of Jin's shades and Shigaraki himself, that one of them will stop him. Neither of them doo and he and Fuyumi cling to each other as Toga runs right over to get hugs from both of the dragons who entered the hall. 

"Hey, hatchling," Magne says, ruffling her hair as she gets her hug before Toga bounces over to Spinner to give him his hug as well. Fuyumi is shaking in his arms, her breath coming out in bursts of frost. The dragon-woman lets out a low whistle as she pokes at some of the cracked stones as they step deeper into the room. "Geez Shig, you know you've gotta live here after we're done, right?" 

"That remains to be seen." Shigaraki tells her, though his voice is a little warmer, his composure more settled than it was a moment ago. "The city?" 

"We secured the defenses with Atsuhiro's explosives. He's keeping an eye on the grounds in case anyone decides to try and cause trouble.

"Good. Bring him to the dais." 

Magne moves up to his father, taking thick iron cuffs that are etched with runes that Dabi knows will take away his magic. His father tries to move, tries to set a spark, but Shigaraki lets out a burst of his own magic against his skin, creaks opening across his temples and forehead, sending streams of blood slipping over his skin, but not taking his head from his shoulders the way he makes it so clear that he could if he wanted to end this right now. Oh god. They're going to kill him. They're going to take the kingdom. His eyes search frantically for something. The doors are still wide open, but Toga is standing there with Spinner, beaming and talking at a mile a minute, asking him how he is and telling him about her time in the castle. Either of them could tear them to pieces before they could slip out, and the entire room is filled with Jin's shades, all of them taking on his appearance. Two, he said he could make up to two other people at a time. Can all of his shadows make more and more of themselves the same way? Is he the army of demonic soldiers that their warriors have spoken about for so many years? It's a horrifying realization that comes for him as he understands that his father might have forced Shigaraki to stay here, but Dabi brought Toga here. He didn't speak up about Jin. He encouraged the other man to reach out to his friends. He brought about his own kingdom's destruction and he did it between Shigaraki's kind and cruel touches. Did it while he was on his knees for him, the other knowing that this would end with him bending a knee or dead even if he didn't accept his father's invitation to do it himself. 

Shigaraki reaches out a hand towards the throne as Magne locks his father's arms in place behind his back. "Iguchi, come help her. Do not grow complacent now." 

Spinner breaks off from Toga, the young woman pouting as she's left to push the doors shut behind her. They grab his father and Dabi's stomach sinks as the dragon turns to face him. He tries to push Fuyumi behind him, but she doesn't want to move. Even though she's shaking badly, even though her magic is not nearly as powerful as their father or Shoto's, at least she has magic and clearly she seems to think that means she needs to protect him. Dabi didn't have a sword with his formal attire. He isn't worth having even a ceremonial one in his father's eyes, but there are dead knights scattered across the floor and he all but dives down to get one, moving back up in front of his sister just after she has sent a flurry of icicles at Shigaraki. He doesn't even bother to destroy them like he did their father's flames, just bringing his wings around the front of his body and letting them patter against them, shattering against the scales and leathery membranes harmlessly. But as he pulls them back, Dabi puts the tip of the sword against his chest, to a place where the strange armor he's wearing has a seam he hopes he can sink the blade past. Tomura wraps his hand around the blade, not seeming to care as it cuts into his palm, his strength enough to hold it still no matter how Dabi tries to drive it deep. 

"Dabi," He hates the way his eyes burn when the other man says his name, soft and careful the way he does when he's checking to make sure that a punishment hasn't gone too far. 

"You used me." 

"I did not. Nothing I needed to take your father's kingdom came from you alone. Your father opened the grounds to Atsuhiro. He gave me access to the palace to sneak Jin past the walls. Your sister's guilt and good nature allowed me to bring Toga to work here, and your kingdom's customs around celebrations made it easy for me to bring the rest of my friends here to do our work. I used my connections to you for none of it." His voice is still so gentle. "I know that does not lessen the betrayal of my actions. I am going to give you an opportunity to set this right. Come to the dais. Bring the sword." He lets go of the blade and turns his back on him as he moves towards the other end of the hall. 

Dabi looks around the room desperately for a way out of this. For something that he can do that will allow him to get he and his siblings out of this mess unscathed. But all around him he sees his panic echoed in the faces of the other trapped nobles, the bodies of everyone who was meant to protect them scattered across the floor. Toga catches his eye from the door and she beams at him, her teeth a little too big and too sharp, as she waves him forward. He feels as trapped as he would if he were rooted to the shattered floor as he has to step away from Fuyumi's side and move across the ground towards the throne. 

Shigaraki moves up the steps, but he doesn't take a seat in his father's chair. He stands in front of it instead and then brings his hand to the floor again. The stones crack and reshape themselves, forming two one foot wide two feet long stone pillars that come up to his waist when he stands between them. He gestures at one of them and Dabi's stomach sinks as his father is brought to it. He sees now that Shigaraki's touch must have destroyed his father's tongue, his lips soaked in blood and deep cracks moving across his lips the way they are his other skin. That is the only reason he has remained so quiet throughout this so far. The two other dragons pull his father forward and make him kneel, forcing his head down against the stone and Magne keeping him there as she weaves a spell that makes his flesh be pulled down until, even with all of his father's physical strength, he cannot move from the floor. 

When he is secure, Shigaraki turns to him and his eyes are different. Those slitted pupils, the scales that creep along his cheeks. They are foreign and strange, but the... emotion in them is so achingly familiar that Dabi's entire chest feels like it might collapse in on itself. "I told you that when someone else sat on your father's throne that we could have a future together. I told you that I would give you everything once you knew me, once you could choose me with no secrets laid out between us anymore. I am Tomura Shigaraki, dragon, ward and heir to the Demon King. If I get to choose anything that could come in my future, I would choose to share it with you." He holds his gaze as he speaks. Holds it as he moves to the other pillar he'd made. "But you have to choose me." He kneels down, sweeping his long hair over his shoulder and flattening his wings to the floor so that his neck is exposed as he begins to lower his head to the stone. "You can take that sword and kill me. If you do, my people will retreat, harming no one else as they go." 

"What?" Magne's voice is loud and unhappy. 

"Uh, Tomura--" Spinner sounds decidedly more wary. 

"Are you out of your mind?" Jin snaps in their direction. 

It's only Toga who coos, "Oh, that's so romantic!" 

Shigaraki ignores all of them, looking up at him from where he is kneeling. "Or you can put an end to your father's tyranny and the war. Let me ascend to the throne and we can have the future together that we both were dreaming of. I will spare your siblings. I have seen their kindness, I know that they will not become him and I would not break your heart by doing them harm." Endure, break, reforge, that’s what he has told him before. Tomura holds Dabi's gaze for another few agonizing seconds and then he sighs softly and lowers his forehead to the stone, his eyes slipping shut. "Choose, little prince." 

Dabi is left standing, stock still, between the two pillars. Shigaraki's friends are eyeing him, eyeing their leader, but he sees in their pinched expressions that they didn't know that this was part of their leader's plans. He doesn't know if they'll listen to him if he does bring the sword down across his neck. But when he steps between the pillars and tightens his grip on the sword with both hands to hide how badly he's shaking, none of them actually move to stop him, even if their eyes do flick to their leader fearfully. One swing and he can slay a dragon. He isn't sure that he'll really be a hero to the kingdom, not like this. But his siblings, he looks out across the room and finds that their eyes are on him, their expressions worried, drawn, and fearful as well. But not angry. His sister still immediately tried to help protect him when Shigaraki approached them. They won't turn on him. If his father is kept in those cuffs, if his tongue is gone-- Shoto could take the throne tonight. They could have a coup of their own and make certain that Enji Todoroki could never hurt any of them ever again. They could kill the heir to the demon king's throne. They could--

He is standing beside Shigaraki, his hands shaking around the sword, wondering if all of the training he's done over the past few months is even enough to give him the strength to cut through flesh, when he glances at his father. He has not had that man's eyes on him in nearly five years. Hasn't had to see that bright blue that looks back at him from the mirror set into a face that hates him. that is screaming his loathing even as he is on his knees, bound, bleeding, and powerless and still thinking that Dabi should not be standing here. That if he had killed him himself, strangled him to death in his coma, slipped a dagger into his ribs any night as he slept, poisoned his food and dealt with the investigation Natsuo would have demanded, then he could have avoided this situation. He sees the hatred in his father's eyes that is bred from his belief that someone like him should never have been forced to put his fate in someone like Dabi's hands. He sees the hatred on his face and all of the hurt, the fury, the helplessness that he has been drowning in for so many years swells inside of him again. That used to be so thick that it choked out the air in his lungs and left him drowning for years and years as he waited to just finally die. It was Tomura's eyes looking at him, breaking him down, dragging him out of those dark waters, that forced him to build himself back up. 

He tightens his grip on the sword so much that his staples pop free of his seam when he brings it down, the force of it splitting skin and clanging against the stone making his arms shake. 

There is a long moment, his heart pounding in his ears as he watches and waits. His father's body goes limp and blood pours over the stone and down the pillar as his head drops to the floor and rolls down to the bottom of the dais. He is staring at his father's corpse, uncertain what he should feel as he looks, until Shigaraki's hand, tipped with sharp claws, but still as gentle on his skin as they are when they run through his hair, catches one of his wrists while the other hand takes the sword carefully from his grip. 

"Your fight is over, my love." He says softly. "And you've ended the war. Now you only need to keep moving forward. Do not let him bring you low ever again." 

The words don't fully sink in past the haze that is filling his mind, but the kiss that Tomura presses to his forehead he can feel. 

///

Despite what Tomura said, Dabi can't manage to do much for... a while after he kills his father. He remembers what happened afterward in fits and starts. He remembers Tomura taking up his position in front of the thone and doling out orders to his people. Many of the nobles who were uninjured were brought back to their rooms to be held until he subdued any rebellions that would surely spark across the country as their people discovered that the castle had been taken and the king killed. His siblings were also brought back to their rooms, save Natsuo who was escorted to help heal the life-threatening injuries of the nobles who had been caught in the collapsing floor. Over the course of the next month, things had been tense and horrible. But by the end of it, the castle hung the flags of the Demon King, of Tomura Shigaraki as he was allowed to ascend to both thrones and unite their empires once he proved to his own father he had successfully taken the kingdom. Dabi's gut had been sour with fear that Shigaraki would have he and his siblings executed after that, the way his ancestors always killed all of the former monarchy's families when their territories had been claimed. But that wasn't what happened. Shoto had been brought into meetings about the matter of the state, his siblings had been allowed to visit him so long as they were escorted by at least one of Shigaraki's soldiers. They didn't blame him. The kingdom as they knew it was lost, none of them were royalty anymore, but they were not being mistreated. He still couldn't bear to look any of them in the eyes when they came to see him though. 

Shigaraki sometimes comes and knocks on his door. "Princeling," he still calls him. 'Precious', 'little one', 'my love', he calls to him from the other side of the door, asking if he can come in, if he can see him. Dabi cannot raise the wards on his room to keep him out, but he never enters without permission and when he can't do anything but greet his voice with choked-off, muffled sobs, the new king retreats. He doesn't force him out of his room like he did as his guard, doesn't ask him through the door about the future that he promised him, and Dabi waits for the knocks to stop coming, both eager and dreading the day that might come. The knocks don't stop though. Toga comes to his door too. 

"Come ooon," She whines, leaning her bodyweight against the wood. "Even Fuyumi will hang out with me again. Shoto's fun too! We can go train together." But when he won't answer her either, she huffs and leaves the door behind. 

It takes him a long time of wallowing, of stress, of his siblings coming and him seeing the changes in them. How his sister stops wearing such elaborate dresses that she has slaved over making and instead starts to wear the more severe, simple cut of a scholar's robes. How Natsuo comes with a backpack and tells him that he is going out to the former frontlines to heal soldiers who are being sent home instead of tending mostly to stuffy noses and rich nobles who are worried about the lines that crease their foreheads. How Shoto tells him, "We're going to be okay," and see in his mis-matched eyes that he believes it as he talks about the different ways that Shigaraki is trying to restructure the kingdom now that they won't be under the constant strain of this centuries-long war. Takes him seeing how the three of them are starting to hold themselves up straighter the way he saw in himself when Shigaraki had been encouraging him to grow for him to understand that he is trying to do the same thing to the kingdom. That he meant it when he said that they could have... unending possibilities stretching out in front of them. 

It takes him time before he's ready to dress himself well and to hold his spine straight. For him to go to his door and reach for the handle himself, convinced for a moment that he will find the door locked and will realize that this was all a sick game. But the handle turns and he's able to step out into the hall. Jin is sitting on the floor playing cards with Spinner, but they both stop and look up at him as he steps out of the room. 

"Dabi," Jin sounds almost relieved as he pushes himself up from the floor. "What's going on? Is everything okay?" 

"Am I... not allowed to leave my room?" 

Jin blinks at him. "What, no, of course you can. Uh, you just... haven't in a while. I thought you might need something." 

"Can I still go where I want?" 

The other man looks more uncomfortable now. "Uh, yeah, man. You can go wherever you want. You're not a prisoner here." 

"Okay." He starts to walk down the hall, half expecting the other two to follow him. But he just hears hushed whispers behind him, not any footsteps. He keeps walking. He has a good idea of where he needs to go to find what he wants.

When he pushes open the door of the throne room, he finds that Shoto, Magne, Atsuhiro, and a handful of other dignitaries are present and discussing matters of state. Shigaraki is sitting on his father's throne, wearing his leathers and a new crown, one made in a style that does not seem like it was fashioned the way that his or his siblings' were made, this one weaving around the horns that stick out from his hair that is free and wild around his face and down his back. He only means to slip inside, and at first, only the people closest to the door seem to take notice of him as they glance his way. He can take up a position at the edge of the room and wait until they've finished their conversation before he says anything. But then Shigaraki's eyes find his and Dabi is breathless again. He didn't know that he could starve for a look like that. Didn't know that his heart could break and come back together at the same time.

Shigaraki's wings flare and that stops the person speaking mid-sentence. "Your majesty?" 

"Clear the room." Shigaraki's voice is as clear and self-assured as it always has been and before Dabi can even think about it, he's moving. Not to the edge of the room, he's pushing his way past the other people in the hall. The floor has been repaired, there's not a trace of blood anywhere, no smell of that and ash clogging his nose like the last time it did when he was standing in this room. 

He passes his brother who catches his arm and that is the only reason he's able to tear his eyes from Shigaraki's face. Shoto searches his face but then lets go of him before he looks back at Shigaraki, giving him a glare that is black with his unspoken threat. The dragon sits unmoved on the throne. Shoto moves with everyone else towards the exit, and by the time the doors are shutting and Shigaraki is waving a hand through the air to seal the room, Dabi is right in front of him and the fog in his mind is so absolute that he can't make sense of anything anymore. All he knows is that desperate, searching look on Tomura's face that he's suddenly certain that he must have seen on his own face a hundred times before. 

It's so easy for him to sink to his knees. To kneel in the place where he beheaded his own father so he can look up at the lover he didn't truly know but still found a way to fall for anyway. He lets his head bow, his neck bared the way Shigaraki's had been. The man? Dragon? King? Doesn't say anything for a long moment and Dabi finds his voice shakily instead. "I haven't done anything for months. I haven't trained. I've barely eaten. Some days I don't get out of bed until the day has become night again." His voice is hoarser, croaked out each one the longer that he speaks. "I've let myself be nothing again. I can't be something without you." His eyes burn. "I need you to make me good. I need to be punished--" 

"Princeling," Tomura's hands reach for him as he shifts forward on the throne, his hands tipped with sharp, wicked claws and filled with a magic that could shatter him apart in an instant. But his voice is so warm and desperate. "You are not nothing. You have always been something, and I'm so sorry that I ever made you think that you had to be mine to be worthy of existing. You are everything, my love. You are a gem no matter who may behold you or not." He makes him tilt his head up so that he can see him again. "You are allowed to grieve. You are allowed your anger, hatred, all of the emotions that you have felt in this time. I will not punish you for that. Not when I only want to hold you close if that is something I am still allowed?" His thumb strokes over Dabi's cheek and he doesn't know how it's taken him so long to understand that he couldn't possibly want anything else. 

When Tomura pulls him up into his lap this time, it's so he can bring their lips together in a kiss and all of the heaviness around Dabi's heart falls away. Tomura helped him heal when he first arrived in the kingdom. Now he's cut out the root of the disease. Now all of their land will heal too. He doesn't have to feel so much pain for being the one who helped to administer that medicine. 

Tomura kisses him hard, deep, and doesn't let him go. His mouth is rough against his lips, desperate to taste him, and Dabi is doing his best to follow his lead. He has never been kissed with so much desire before, and certainly never by anyone who has teeth as sharp as Tomura's, but he doesn't care. All that matters to him now is that he is being given the kiss that he wanted so much. It comes to him with the vaguest flicker of recognition that the other man knew the betrayal was coming from the moment they met. From the second he brought their relationship into something more than guard and prince, he knew that Dabi would find out about his betrayal. But he didn't want him to think he'd used their relationship, his love to manipulate him. So he had made him wait. Until he would know that the first kiss they shared would not be tainted by the betrayal. That this could be real and perfect as their mouths move against one another and Tomura's hands pull him so close to his skin as Dabi tries to figure out where he can touch him when his body is so different from what Dabi would have expected. 

Tomura's hand moves to the back of his neck, cupping his head in his palm the way he always does, as if no time has passed since the last time they shared his bed. "I love you. My darling, my princeling, my precious sapphire. How I have longed to have you right here on this throne. You were always meant to sit here, my love." 

His face heats, the softer words stoking the embers of his desire as well as the meaner ones do when he's being punished. "Can we still... be what we were before?" Not when they were in public. Tomura isn't his servant anymore and he doesn't ever want him to be. But in private. The way they would lay together, the way the other looked at him like he was everything. The love that bloomed out between them like a tangled mass of vines. Could they hold onto that even though Tomura has two entire kingdoms and could have whatever he wants from either? 

"Of course we can, precious." He tells him, resting their foreheads together. "I told you, there is not a force in this world that could make me leave your side but you." 

And tells him with that sentence he meant every other one he'd spoken before that. Dabi is even more desperate when he tangles his hands in the other's thick, wild hair and pulls him in for another kiss, not caring if he splits his lips on the other's fangs. Tomura doesn't begrudge him his passion. He gives it freely and easily, his hands moving over Dabi's body, finding all of the places that he always has before that he knows bring the heights of Dabi's pleasure even higher. 

"Mine," he says, the words almost a plea between their lips. "I chose you?" 

"Yes, love." Tomura promises. "Yours. No one will ever take us from each other." 

Dabi keens with his need. It's been months. Months of loneliness, of guilt, sorrow, anger, and fear. And in a matter of minutes it all drains away. He is left with nothing in his chest but the love that he has been carrying for the other man for so many months now and the desperation to finally, finally be able to have every inch of the other's love in turn. It's been months, but he still knows how to spread his thighs around Tomura's and let himself rock against them. His body still sends a spark of pleasure through him as he does that has him moaning as his lover, his king, slips his tongue into his mouth. Tomura doesn't reprimand him for being so needy that he would put a harlot to shame, he rocks up into him, letting him feel that he needs him just as much, though there's a flicker of confusion in his mind because his lover feels bigger than he was the last time he had him. Was hiding in his human visage making him smaller? By the gods, will his body even be able to take him if he's any bigger? 

He doesn't have a chance to think about that when Tomura's sharp talons move to so deftly and carefully start to unbutton his tunic and Dabi realizes that the other wants to give him the other part of the intimacy that he promised right here. On his father's-- on Tomura's throne. In the throne room. His face burns as he pulls away far enough to speak. "Tomura, here?" 

"Where else? Oh, my darling, I am going to have you over every inch of this castle if you'll let me. Until your body is always aching so sweetly for my touch you'll need to be trained again to remember how to be more than my pretty little consort." 

The words, the knowledge that the other wants him so much, makes Dabi's entire body hotter and has him biting his lip to hide the whimper that wants to slip out of him. He lets the other undo the buttons on his tunic and slips it from his shoulders, before his hands are reaching for Dabi's shirt. Sharp claws tease against his skin as he brings that fabric up over his head, red eyes taking in every inch of him that is exposed as if he's seeing Dabi's body for the very first time and can't help the hunger that the sight of him is stoking. His hands move over Tomura's chest, over the dark leathers that cling to his body and look so different from the clothes he used to wear before. He's lovely. Has always been lovely, always been so confident and held himself like he could never forget his own importance no matter the position he held. Dabi knows now why that was, but seeing him in his own clothes, self-assured and in the position that he belongs in in a way that Dabi doesn't think he ever could, somehow makes him even more attractive. 

As the cool air of the room bites at his naked chest, he can't help rolling his hips again, trying to put more pressure against his cock that is hardening so rapidly, desperate for pleasure after months of nothing but the aching void that swelled through him. Feeling his need aching between his legs already has Tomura huffing with his amusement, his hands going to the edge of Dabi's pants before he courses a bit of his magic through the seams to send the panels of cloth fluttering away from his skin. Even with the doors sealed and the room cleared, Dabi's face burns as he's left completely naked in the throne room. 

"Don't be embarrassed, little one," Tomura purrs. "Anyone who sees you would be lucky to do so-- until I pluck their eyes from their skull for daring to take the sight of you for themselves." 

"Monster," that's what he was always told about dragons. That they crave violence and destruction down to their very souls, that they and the monsters at their command must be destroyed so that the mortal races could live in peace. But the way that Tomura's claws are prickling his skin, the way he offers up his devotion to him so completely and with such a violence is doing something unholy to his mind. It has him shivering with his want, his cock hard and flushed already, curved up against his stomach and trapped between their bodies. The leather that Tomura is wearing already feels so soft and well-made, but against the over-sensitive head of his prick, it is making him even more desperate as he sees the obscene droplet of pearly white get smeared against it as his hips move to try and get more faster. It's been months and months of wanting. He isn't sure that he can wait any longer without losing his mind. 

"For you, my love? The worst of them." He agrees without hesitation, letting Dabi's fingers fumble over his shirt, looking for where it must close, for some way of getting it off when the other man has such massive wings in this form. He doesn't find that place, but the other man only leaves him fumbling for a moment, desire and amusement shining in equal measures in those eyes that he has grown so used to having on him, but are still a little strange an foreign now that his pupils are different. But he reaches back and unclasps the closings around his neck and at his lower back, then letting Dabi's greedy hands take away the leather from over his chest. His body is familiar and foreign too. The thick muscle cut over his chest and stomach, the scars he has grown so familiar with are the same, but there are scales now, crawling over his shoulders and down his back, creeping over his sides and curing along swells of muscle, though his center is left exposed and the same color as his skin has always been before. Dabi's fingers hesitate, but his lover does not rush him as he brings his fingers to the edge of those scales for the first time. They are cool under his touch, cooler than the rest of Tomura's body, and so smooth. He can feel the toughness of them beneath his fingertips, the intricacies between them through the places where they overlap. They glitter in the low light of the room, almost as if lit with a fire from within each. 

They're beautiful. Tomura was always so beautiful, but seeing him how he was truly meant to be shows Dabi how little he understood of what could be beautiful before this. Tomura's hands are solid and grounding as they curl around his hips and pull him in closer, rolling his own up to meet his body. "You're so needy, little one. So excited to be rewarded after so long?" A question that doesn't require an answer, but Dabi's whole body aches from how much he missed this kind of play that the other taught him. 

"Yes, please," his face burns even hotter. "I want you, your majesty." 

He is not expecting the way that the words make Tomura's eyes flash and his wings flare. Not expecting how they have him crashing their mouths back together as his hands move over his skin, one going down to his cock and stroking him once dry before he's murmuring his arcane word between their lips so that the next movement comes slick with oil, letting him squeeze Dabi so roughly his mouth is opening on a loud, wanton moan that gives the dragon more room to press his tongue inside of his mouth and lick out every sound of his arousal that is gasped against his lips. 

"Oh, my pretty little whore. Going to have you made my consort officially," he strokes him quickly, roughly, the way that he would when Dabi earned a reward for his good behavior at times when he knew a meal might be coming soon or when he had plans to be elsewhere in the palace and knew that he didn't have time to break Dabi into pieces slowly. "Going to have the entire kingdom know that you are mine and that you will always be at my throne, either right here, spread on top of it with my cocks buried into your tight, desperate body, or with you between my knees, showing everyone how comfortable the former prince is doing nothing but stretching his jaw and swallowing my cum." 

The filthy words are bringing his pleasure higher, his body shivering with it as his nipples pebble and his hips move desperately up into his hand again and again. He would never survive the humiliation of that, but Tomura's filthy words always make him so needy. There are gut-punched sounds of his pleasure slipping out from between his lips that are certainly not becoming of former royalty, but he can't quell them as he begs, "Tomura, please, please, please, feels so good, please!" Because he hasn't been given permission to cum yet, but he is beyond desperate for it. He might need it more than his next breath. 

"Such a good boy for me. Finally coming to see me, finally letting me touch your pretty skin again. Oh, my darling, I am going to have you right here, so many times that I will have to carry you from this room, so completely disheveled that anyone who passes us in the hall won't even be able to recognize you from the look of bliss that will be carved into your features. You can cum, my love, and you can do so knowing it is the first of many you'll receive at my hands today." 

It's the words more than any friction, no matter how wonderful that is too, that makes him go over the edge almost immediately. His balls tighten and all of the stress and pent-up frustration that has been sitting at the edge of his mind is released in a perfect splatter of white that covers their stomachs as stars dance behind his eyes. His moan echoes around the room, chasing away every awful memory that lingers in this place from a lifetime of his suffering. Tomura kisses his slack, panting lips, his cheek, down along his jaw, and over his neck. But his hands don't stop. He said that he wouldn't and Dabi knows how to ask for him to if he really, truly desires that. But he doesn't. Even though his cock is softening now, and the pleasure on the edge of his nerves is starting to sting because his body is being asked to accept more, he doesn't care. He would take every inch of this sweet agony if it means that he can have every inch of Tomura joined with him as well. He's wanted this for so long. He can't bear to stop now and have it slip through his fingers again. 

"Beautiful, baby boy. I missed seeing how lovely you are with your face twisted with pleasure. I can't wait to see how your mouth falls open when I'm filling you up." He murmurs the words against his shoulder as his tail, long, lined with spikes along the top of it, wraps itself carefully around one of his thighs. It feels like a serpent, corded with such thick muscle that make it feel so solid in a way that he'd not expected. But he can't protest the sensation when Tomura is careful not to let any of the sharp parts of his skin scrape over Dabi's. He brings his legs wider and coaxes him up in his lap even more so he can kiss his collarbones and the hand that is soaked with his cum and the oil can move further between his legs. 

He has had Tomura's fingers in his hole before, his tongue too, but there's a sharp prickle of fear as he remembers that the times before the other man did not have wicked black talons curving from his nail beds. But when his fingers circle his rim, he doesn't feel those against his skin. The pads of his fingers are only rough with the callouses that he is so familiar with. He's moaning again as the other man sinks the first finger in without hesitation. His nails curve into his shoulders as that fresh pleasure sparks his nerves hot and aching and he feels the way the muscles ripple as the dragon's wings flare out again. He tries his best to loosen his grip, scared that he's caused the other some kind of discomfort. 

"Here, sapphire." His other hand is still tipped with claws as he wraps his fingers around Dabi's wrist and pulls him until their chests are pressed together and they are sharing every breath, bringing his touch over his shoulders and back along the place where he used to be able to feel the scars-- not scars. The place where his wings emerge from his back. The texture of the scales there is somehow even tougher than it was on his front, but the membrane that stretches to connect those scales to the first joint of his wings is leathery and soft. Tomura shivers again, letting out a low, rumbling purr through the air as he lets him touch a part of his body that feels so delicate, but that he saw could not be damaged so easily. Dabi moves his hands over this place gently, carefully, reverently, amazed that he can have this closeness from a creature that he thought for all of his life only could find pleasure in destroying. 

Tomura presses another finger into his body and crooks them. He strokes his walls and makes Dabi rock his hips into the touch, makes him settle into a slower rhythm than before, but still keeps him moving like that as he is so desperate to get more. He makes him want it. Makes him need it even though he's still aching from his first orgasm as his cock starts to fill again. He's biting his lip hard enough he's surprised it hasn't split under the abuse from how roughly his teeth meet it. His whimpers join Tomura's purrs as more kisses are peppered over his skin because he fills him with a third finger, a fourth, and makes sure to spread them wide inside of him. So wide, stretching him more than he ever has been before and murmuring his spell to bring more oil to his skin twice more. Until it's dripping out of him and he can feel it soaking into the other's lap. 

"Tomura, please," he whines. He knows the other is larger than his fingers, but this stretch is so obscene and his cock is aching so sharply from how hard he is again. If he isn't given what he's wanted for so many months now, he isn't certain that he'll get it at all before he's as disheveled as his lover has already promised to make him. 

"So eager for me, my love?" He teases, his fingers pushing in deep and crooking all of them hard against that special spot inside that the dragon showed him. The spot where, with enough attention, he can make Dabi's orgasm crash through him even if he doesn't ever touch his prick. He rocks against him again, another shattered sound of his pleasure breaking apart in his throat as his eyes burn. Tomura has brought him to tears in bed before. He doesn't know if he should be surprised that when he's preparing to have every inch of him so completely for the first time, that he might do so again. "I should have known you would be. Your cute little hole always was so hungry for more. So desperate to be made full that it never even crossed your mind that a prince might demand to put his cock inside of his servant's body instead." Dabi's face flushes at the suggestion. No, he hadn't ever thought of that. He had been surprised the first time Tomura had deigned to wrap his lips around his cock the way Dabi was always so eager to do for him. It was a different desire, a shame that would hang around his neck if anyone had found out about it then, but he hadn't ever wanted Tomura beneath him like this. Not when it always felt so good to have him touching him in these ways. 

"Just want what you give me, your majesty," his voice is so thin when he says it, but he can't find any other words to help express his need. He just needs and knows Tomura has to be the one who decides when he's earned having it. 

The words seem to push that over the edge, getting a growl out of the dragon as his fingers push against his prostate again, nearly pushing Dabi over the edge for the second time, only managing to hold off because the fingers are withdrawing just as quickly. Dabi's hands fly down to the other's clasp so that he can open them and free his cock, swollen beneath the leather, in the hopes of having it replace the hollowness left behind by his digits. Tomura lets him open his pants, but he reaches inside. Dabi's breath catches in the back of his throat as he takes himself out. 

Like the rest of his body, Tomura is changed in his true form. The thick, long cock that he had grown so familiar with is now two. Two cocks that are so big that his head feels dizzy as he looks at him. The top one has the familiar ring through his head, and the bottom one has a strange ridged texture like snake scales running along the underside of it, both of them emerging from the dragon's pelvis, from an open slit, slick fluid dripping over them from pressing out of his body. Dabi has wanted him so badly, but just seeing him has a fresh whimper slipping out of his throat. 

"Shh, little one," Tomura raises a hand to cup his cheek sweetly again, the filthy one instead going to his cocks as he makes a show of stroking them, showing Dabi how he can't close his fingers around both at the same time when they're against his palm, thumb teasing along that strange texture that sits along the underside of the bottom one. "I know that this is a lot, but you can handle one, I know you can. My pretty boy has been begging for it for so long, I know that he has the resolve to take what he's been asking for." 

Just one? Dabi swallows down his nerves and manages a small nod. He can try for one. Tomura presses a kiss to his temple before he uses a hand and his tail to get Dabi shifted higher up on his lap, steadying his upper cock so he can lower his body down onto himself. Dabi feels the metal of the ring that has been pierced through his head, warmed from his skin, rubbing around the sensitive rim of his hole. Every nerve ending tingles as he does his best to stay relaxed. He has wanted this for so long. He never thought he would get it like this, the other's anatomy so much stranger than what he's grown accustomed to, or here on the throne, but he will not complain about it if it means that he can finally have all of the creature he has tied his future to. 

Tomura's eyes meet his and he rests their foreheads together again, eyes hungry and searching his face for every flicker of emotion that passes it as he sinks Dabi's body down onto his cock. He is so happy that the other took such care in prepping him because Dabi thinks the rigidness of that metal and the thickness of his lover's cock might have torn him apart if he hadn't. He still feels like he might split in two as he's slowly slid further and further along his length until he feels the second one wet and hard, pressing up against him, nestled between his cheeks. Tomura fills him up and then smiles so sweetly at him. 

"So perfect for me, darling." He murmurs, his hands rubbing over his skin soothingly. "So tight and warm. Perhaps it was good you gave me time to get this country's affairs in order, because I don't think I'm going to be able to slip from your body for weeks if I can have you so warm and tight like this in my nest." He rocks his hips up, just a bit, into Dabi's but he might as well have sent an earthquake off beneath his skin. The moan that he lets out is so loud that he's certain that the wards won't stop the sound from passing through the stone. His fingers are scrabbling over scales and skin to try and get a tighter hold of the other man as he starts to babble, 

"Tomura, ah, ah, Tomura!" Because he asked for it, begged for it, but he couldn't have ever imagined how it would feel with him inside. He sees fresh stars when the other man chuckles softly and brings his hands to his hips. The muscles in his arms tighten as he lifts Dabi up, until only his head is just inside of his hole, the hard metal of his piercing so different and solid in its texture that he doesn't think he'll ever be able to stop noticing it, before he lets the force of gravity and just the slightest coaxing of his muscles, bring Dabi back down onto his length. Dabi would be humiliated that just the first real thrust has him spilling his pleasure between their bodies again, but he can't be bothered to care when his orgasm makes his insides squeeze even more tightly around his length, prolonging that pleasure. 

The dragon laughs, but the sound is bright, not mocking. It doesn't sour the ecstasy that is still in his veins as he continues to be moved. "Gorgeous. You're going to scream my name when I fill you with my cum, aren't you, precious? Won't be able to help it. How many times was I so tempted to let the wards drop so that everyone in the entire castle would hear how loudly you moaned whenever I let you taste my cum or when I had my fingers sunk into your tight," he moves him down harder on the word and makes Dabi's toes curl, "eager hole? Too many, sapphire. I would have stayed in your bed until every guard in the castle came to tear me away from you just so I could hear you sing so sweetly for as long as possible." 

Dabi didn't think that one could die from pleasure, but his seems unending as his muscles soften again, but are still so sharply oversensitive and aching as they are moved over his lover's cock. He isn't sure that anyone could survive this, dragon or not, but oh, how this would be a wonderful way to go. If Tomura could have killed him like this, then he almost wants to go back in time and reprimand him for not doing so sooner. He can feel the other's talons starting to poke against his skin again, his movements growing faster and more certain as Dabi doesn't protest being bounced in his lap like a toy. Perhaps other royalty demand that of those who serve them, he could never even imagine it when Tomura was his. It probably says something unflattering about him that he is so excited to become that for the other man in turn. He would give up making himself anything else if he could always be the one warming Tomura's bed and being an eager home for his thick, perfect... cocks. 

Nerves flutter in his stomach through the breathless haze of pleasure that is living inside of him. But he wants to bring Tomura's as high as his own body is going. Wants to make sure that this is just as good for his lover as it has been for him. If he is going to be the king's consort, then he's going to be the best one that he can be. He's going to have every inch of him the way that he was promised. 

"Tomura," The movements slow and his kisses sweeten when he says his name. 

"What is it, little one? Too much?" 

He manages to shake his head and steady himself against the other's chest as he reaches back to touch the second cock. He is heavy, the same heaviness that he has always been against his palm before, but the scales along his underside are new. They're rigid, but there aren't any sharp gaps between where they meet, the skin as velvet and soft as the rest of his length, though there's a distinct chill to this part of him than the top of his length. "I want all of you, your majesty," he begs, uncertain if his body can even take all of him. He already feels so stretched and so good with one of his lover's cocks inside of him, but he wants to make sure their pleasure is matched, beat for beat. He has already cum twice, he can bring the other off with them inside to bring them to even ground again. 

"Are you sure, princeling," he nuzzles against his cheek. "This is your first, is it not?" 

His face flushes, but he hasn't ever really hid his inexperience from the other man. "Show me what I have to look forward to getting used to, Tomura." 

"You really are perfect for me, precious." The words are cooed as softly as the sweetest 'I love you' as the other shifts his body up again, until only his head is stretching his hole, and then he forces himself to retract his claws again so he can reach down. Dabi lets some of his nerves be washed away as his lover makes more oil slick his skin. He has taken such great care to never hurt him and he doesn't believe that he would give him this now if he thought that he might. Tomura slips two fingers inside alongside his first cock and stretches his rim further, but this isn't too much yet, isn't making him doubt what he wanted so badly before. Tomura's eyes are on his face again, watching him for any flicker of discomfort that might pass his features. He doesn't want to stop, will take anything that he can get, and somehow feels more embarrassed when he leans in and gives the dragon a sweet, closed kiss against his lips as he gently rocks his hips back so he can feel his other cock rub against his skin. 

Tomura's eyes are heavy with his own affection as he slips the fingers from Dabi's body and reaches to steady his cocks again. He presses the second head to his hole now and tells him, "Breathe for me, my love," waiting for the stream of his breath to start slipping from his lips before he pushes up. Dabi feels a slight ache at his rim as the blunt head presses against him. For a split second, he doesn't think that the other man is going to fit. That he will have to stop and Dabi will learn that no matter how much his lover has encouraged him and helped him not think of his body as completely useless, that it will fail him here too, always failing him when he wants something so keenly. But then his head pushes inside with a pop and stars explode across his vision. 

He had thought he felt full with one of his lover's cocks inside, but as his rim is made to stretch so wide, each ridge of the other's scaled cock creating a unique and stunning pressure as it goes inside of him and can still  be felt against his walls there, he loses space inside of him that his lungs used to breathe. When he sinks down, when Tomura pulls him down with his hands and tail, he ends up so deep inside his guts that there isn't room for his lungs to expand anymore. He is drowning, pulled under from how completely the joining of their bodies has allowed Tomura's to possess his own. There is no escaping his fullness. No way that he could ever let himself think past this moment that they are brought together in their entirety, nothing separating them anymore. 

Everything. This is everything. He could never ask for more. He won't ever need to. Tomura will give this to him forever. He'll train his body to be good for this, to be his perfect consort, and Dabi will show him his devotion each day. He brought him love, warmth, light into his life no matter their rocky start, no matter that they were not supposed to be this to one another. He will bring that light into the kingdom. He won't ever make Dabi regret choosing him over the life he was born into and that had been filled with so many years of cruelty before him. 

"You're so pretty when you fall apart for me, baby boy." Tomura's words are sweet when they brush over his cheek before his tongue is moving across his skin. Catching the blood that is dripping over his cheeks because he is so overwhelmed by the fullness inside and how every inch of him is being given fresh pleasure as he begins to move slowly again. "So brave taking so much your first time. Is it good, sweetheart?" 

Dabi can't give him an answer in words, he just chokes out a sob as he feels that ring rubbing against his prostate and making his cock, already so oversensitive from his previous two orgasms, swell to half hardness again. 

"You have to answer me, baby, or I'll have to stop." 

"Don't stop," he's never heard his voice so weak before, but managing the words at all has the other moving him over his cocks more surely. 

"There. That wasn't so hard was it? I know that you're going to remember how to behave so well for me, but if you slip again," they're both breathless with their arousal when Tomura promises against his skin, "I'll have to punish you, little prince." 

He'll take any that he gets when he starts to move his hips down in time with the other's thrusts. He's so blindingly full, his body so tight with pleasure that he didn't even know he could experience, that he has to bring his lover to this same place as him. Tomura sees his eagerness and lets out another growl, his wings flaring, his tail tightening around his thigh, as he meets the movements with harder thrusts of his own. Seeing his wings flare like that has Dabi's fingers curving back into the place where they connect to his back and whatever restraint that the dragon was holding onto is gone. 

Their movements are frantic, each one never letting Dabi's body completely adjust to the feeling of his cocks sinking deep inside of him. He still feels so small and so tight. He can't get to full hardness, not when his pleasure is so complete and centered inside of his hole as his thighs get slicker with each thrust that sends more oil dripping out and mingling with the slick from Tomura's roots and his precum as it starts to fill him. His throat is raw from the litany of sounds he is letting bounce against the stones, only drowned out when Tomura's lips are on his and his tongue is devouring every inch of his mouth, letting Dabi taste his own blood because the dragon can't seem to help himself and keeps licking it away from his skin. 

"My sapphire, my princeling, my consort, mine," he snarls against his lips, the movements growing even rougher. "You are worth more  than any treasure that will ever enter my horde. More perfect than any kingdom I will ever rule. Mine, until you banish me from your side." 

Dabi clings to him even tighter. "Never." He won't ever give him up, won't ever make him leave. Tomura is his future, the only one that he has ever been able to look at and want so fiercely that Dabi would take up a sword and fight through any army that might ever think to come and take it away. "Mine, forever." 

"Forever, love." Tomura agrees. 

Neither of them can speak more after that as their movements devolve into something so frantic and needy that Dabi doesn't doubt that he will have bruises on his skin from how hard their hips are meeting and their fingers are clenching onto each other's skin and scales. But it's beyond worth it when Tomura lets out a snarl as he slams Dabi onto his lap and sinks his cocks inside as deeply as possible. He didn't realize that the dragon's release would make him feel even fuller, but he is blinded by the amount of pressure that builds inside of him as he is soaked with his cum, the fluid spilling out of his hole even when he's being plugged by his cocks. Dabi doesn't have any cum of his own left, his cock twitching and stinging with pain as bright as his pleasure as his third orgasm crashes over his nerves and leaves him limp and panting against his lover's chest. 

It takes a long time for their breathing to steady and for the dragon's cocks to soften and slip out, his cum spilling from Dabi's body because it can't close up fast enough to even try to keep it inside. Their cum all over the throne, the smell of their sex permeating the air. Scandalous. Blissful. Tomura presses another sweet kiss to his temple and gathers him in his arms, his wings curling around their bodies to block him from sight. 

"Come now," he murmurs. "It has been months now that I've longed to have you sleeping soundly in my bed, for you to be the first thing I see when I open my eyes each morning. I will have that now, and when you wake this evening, hungry for more, I will have you again." 

Dabi doesn't know if his body will be able to handle having Tomura again, but the other man has always been able to find the right ways to push him, how to make him better. He trusts him to know this too, hiding his head against his collarbone and clinging to him as he's carried to the secret door behind the throne. No one should be in these halls, so no one will be able to stop them from going to Tomura's chambers so his lover can make good on his words the way he always has before. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, consider shooting me an ask or leaving a comment!

[chibikyo]

Day 4 - Teratophilia

Syzoth x F!Reader

Syzoth asks reader if he can fuck her in his natural form. Reader is happy to oblige.

Warnings: Monster fucking, non-human genitalia, slight breeding kink, Syzoth is sweet, enthusiastic consent

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Syzoth asked, voice pitched high as he buried his face into the crook of Y/n’s neck. He’d already come inside her twice, but his cock was still hard and weeping and he’d shamefully told her how it was harder to have a full orgasm in his human form. He’d looked so guilty, but so hopeful, as he’d asked if he could shift back to his natural form. Y/n had kissed him, sweet and tender as she stroked his chest soothingly, before nodding.

“Just be gentle, okay?” Y/n murmured, running a hand through his hair, her nails raking over his scalp gently and he shivered with pleasure at the sensation. He lined up at her entrance, his cock throbbing and wet with her slick. He stroked himself a few times, eyes locked with hers until slowly shifting just his lower half back into reptilian form. She saw his tail swaying softly back and forth behind him as he tugged her hips close, his cock rubbing against her cum slicked crease.

Y/n hissed as the tapered tip of his cock slowly breached her entrance. Despite being loose and stretched and soaking wet, he was so much bigger in this form that she was still tight around him. He pushed in slowly, steadily getting thicker as her core pulsed and clenched around him. Y/n let out a huff of air, whining as he began to thrust in a shallow, gentle rhythm, coaxing her walls to stretch around him. He leaned forward, kissed her sweetly, savoring the little hitches in her breath as he slowly worked himself deeper and deeper. 

She caught the pleased flush on Syzoth’s cheeks as he pulled back from kissing her. He glanced down at where he was disappearing inside her, admiration and love in equal measures splayed on his face as his thrusts slowly picked up speed. He snapped his hips forward, buried to the hilt as Y/n nearly screamed, just a touch of pain amidst the sweet, torturous pleasure he was bringing her. He leaned in, his tongue slithering out to flicker over one of her taut nipples, sending wave after wave of ecstasy straight to her core. 

She came on a particularly powerful thrust, clenching around him so tight that Syzoth’s rhythm stuttered for just a moment. Y/n felt herself go boneless beneath him as Syzoth slowed his thrusts. She could see that he was straining, could feel the tremble in his body, clearly struggling to control himself so he wouldn’t hurt her. His eyes turned guilty again, tail flicking back and forth anxiously, as Y/n struggled to catch her breath.

“My love… please?” Syzoth gave a shallow thrust, the strain in his muscles evident with each shallow breath he took. Y/n nodded.

“Mmm, of course, sweetheart.” She kissed him gently. “Turn me over?” She asked. Syzoth nodded, eager, as he helped her get comfortable. He placed a pillow under her hips, stroking her soft flesh before pulling her  up and back so he could slide back into her tight core. Y/n whimpered at the drag over her overstimulated walls and Syzoth whined, but stilled.

“Are you sure, love?” Syzoth murmured. Y/n turned her head to meet his eye, a choked off gasp leaving her at the adoration she saw there. 

“I want you, Syzoth. All of you.” Y/n smiled. “Go ahead and take what you need honey. I’ll let you know if it’s too much.” Syzoth shuddered, hand stroking her spine lovingly before he finally let go and shifted fully into his reptilian form. She felt his clawed hands wrap around her hips as he started thrusting again, sharp and deep and steadily building in speed until it felt like he’d fuck her straight through the mattress. 

He was driving so fast, so deep, that Y/n could do little more than dig her hands into the sheets and let out a sob as he used her. She didn’t even feel her orgasm building, but suddenly she was on the edge again, her entire body taut as a wire. He was practically feral, pulling her hips back to meet each thrust and it only took a few thrusts before she was shaking apart around him.

He let out a mix of hisses and whimpers at how hot and slick she felt around him, squeezing his cock so tight. He gave one more hard thrust, buried himself deep as his orgasm hit him. He spilled into her, his hot seed spilling out around his cock as he pumped her beyond what she could handle. He sagged on top of her, shifting back into human form as he pressed against her feverish flesh, savoring the warmth that permeated from her to him.

“Thank you, love.” He pressed soft kisses into her shoulder, rolling onto his side and tugging her into the cradle of his arms. “You’re so perfect; made just for me, I think.” Y/n giggled, then whined as he slid his softening cock out of her and she felt his seed begin to leak out. Before more than a few drops could escape she felt something press into her, thinner than his cock but not as smooth and she choked on a moan as that rough texture scraped over her sensitive walls. She let out a questioning grunt, feeling Syzoth’s hand running over her stomach adoringly. “Please, love, can you keep it inside you for a little longer? You’re so perfect, letting me fill you up so much. Please?”

She realized then that Syzoth had slipped the tip of his tail into her, plugging her entrance to prevent any of his seed leaking out. The roughness was his scales, the tip flickering back and forth nervously and she reached back, stroking her hand over his arm reassuringly until his tail stilled.

“Of course, sweetheart.” She laughed. “Anything you want.”

[anomaly-hivemind]

Glad to hear your doing alright and i figured you would be tired with kinktober so it's alright take your time to write my request

The longer I wait the more I know it's gonna be good❤️

And good it is because your request is FINALLY DONE. We were taking out sweet time making sure its perfect. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Monster’s Congregation

Tags: non human genitalia, Gangbang, Bukkake, Rough Sex, impregnation, breeding, pregnancy, Overstimulation, Come as Lube praise kink, creampie, size kink, Size difference, face fucking, multiple orgasm, Piv, manhandling, groping, large cock, spitroasting, monster fucking, monster fucker, monster lover, monster x reader, teratophilia Voyeurism, biting, marking cunnilingus, knotting, double pentration, double pentration in one hole, free use, cock warming. body worship

You were watching a movie, gushing over the nonhuman character, not caring in the world about whether your friend was judging or not. Who cares if it's not human, it's sentient enough to be able to take you on its own account. If only they were real, you sigh as you think on the borderline depressing though. You’ve had an odd interest in them for as long as you can remember.

“I want that in me!” You exclaimed, grabbing hold and shaking your best friend over and over again. Who looked at you with an amused face.

“That's an alien babes.” You both look at the screen as the monster throws one of the side characters into the wall with great force.

“Exactly. A sexy sexy alien,” You flop into their lap with a whine, and she holds back a snort.

“Be careful what you wish for; you never know what's listening in.” Jay pets your head as if you were a house cat or anything with your opinion of cute enough to make an attempt to pet.

“Well, I'm manifesting this shit. I want a bunch of monsters on… sideways, upwards downwards, filling my holes all at once, now. If only! My kinks would be satisfied with only this one wish!” you ramble on for a little while, thinking about your wish and hoping to have it come true if only in your dreams so you could jill about it later.

“That's really what you want?” Jay asked you in a dry tone, almost like they didn't care. You poke their perfect face in annoyance.

“You could at least humor me a little” “I'll get you something for your birthday.” Jay gives you a half smile as they speak.

You smiled at them as they told you this, you couldn't be happier. “Like something from Bad Dragons?! Wait wait! I don’t wanna know, don't tell me. I want it to be a surprise,” You giggled as you thought of all the things that your best friend could come up with for your birthday.

You spend a couple of hours together as you continue to watch the movies until you doze off and fall asleep in Jay’s lap. They watch you sleep for a bit with glowing eyes and a smirk on their face.

When you wake up it's in your bed and you get up and head to your kitchen, to see Jay preparing a bunch of stuff in your kitchen, and half of it is stored in a couple of containers. They were cooking breakfast and lunch and maybe even some dinner as we were having some kind of cookout.

“Jay, what are you doing?” Your voice catches their attention and they look over to you with a smile.

“Happy birthday hun,” Jay goes back to making stuff.

“Thank you... So what are you doing?” you repeated and stepped closer only to trip over an ice cooler.

“I’m preparing your birthday gift, obviously, we're going on a trip. “ you roll your eyes.

“In our favorite rocket ship?

“No, now get dressed, we have to load all this in my car. “

You get dressed in your best and slutty outfit for your birthday, thinking that you might be going to a little house party with a few other friends that you know. You head back into the kitchen and smile at your friend who is staring at you with some kind of hidden emotion before cutting off the stove. Jay gives you a container of breakfast food and a water bottle. You dig into the food, always loving your bestie's cooking and you are starving. Jay finished packing everything up and put them in bags ready to be carried to their car.

After you were done with the food you helped with grabbing everything to put in the car. You loaded up and then got in the car with Jay getting in the driver seat. Jay takes you to another friend's house and you see her lovely house. You both get there but Jay only takes out a few things for the party and tells you to leave the rest. You still have a shit ton of things left in the car, like a bunch of water and some foods that didn’t need to be heated or chilled much or at all for that matter. You get some cake, chat with your friends a bit, and play a few games before Jay pulls you to the side.

“You are ready to leave, I still have to give you your birthday gift.” Jay put a hand on the swell of your back as they whispered in your ear over the music. It makes you shiver a bit as you look over at them with an excited glint in your eyes.

“Yes let's dip right now” You almost bounced in place. You yell goodbye to everyone before anyone can try to convince you both to stay any longer. You book it to the car and Jay starts to drive off, Jay tells you to take a little nap because it is going to be a long trip in your sleep you don’t see the car teleport.

You look to be in the middle of a dirt path in a dense forest. You looked over to a focused Jay who seemed to not be worried about where you both were so you didn’t worry either. Jay had their hand on your thigh, which seemed to travel upward slowly, you woke up fully and looked at their hand, slender fingers digging into your inner thigh lightly.

“We're here.” Jay looked over to you after stopping the car; you gave them a confused look. This was just a clearing in the middle of nowhere, in the forest.

“Where is here?”

“I have a lot I need to tell you first, but it’s easier to show you.” Jay gets out of the car and the curiosity causes you to follow after them.

Jay stands in the center of the open field and looks at a set of trees that curved into an archway. It was kinda hot out here if you were being honest. There was no one around for miles and no one looked like they have even been out here before.

“What are you going to show me, Jay?”

“I am a fay… well a pixie to be more specific.” You looked at them in confusion, at their words.

“Like you're into men?” Jay looked at you with twitching eyes before rolling there at your statement.

“No bitch, I’m a supernatural being.” They shake their heads and before your eyes, they start to change.

Their bodies ripped out of their clothes, and they grew unnaturally fast, while also changing to a pale whitish almost iridescent color. The white of their eyes turned black and their hair grew longer. Jay’s ears grew and moth-like wings formed from their back. You can’t help but stare, because they are so pretty and very creepy, you were looking them up and down when you saw the large appendage between their legs and your eyes widened before placing your hands in front of your face and peaking from between your fingers.

“Woo. That's a dick” You can’t take your eyes off of the mystical shaft, which was literally sparkling and glistening.

“You seem to be so surprised.” Jay’s voice was a bit deeper than it was before.

“Are you my birthday gift?” You also felt a bit hot and maybe that you were dreaming.

“No, but I can't let you have all the fun, and you're going to help me get your actual gift.” you both ignore how quick you came to terms with your best-friend being a supernatural being.

“So what's my actual gift” you may or may not have been drooling a bit as you stare at the curves of his veins creating ridges along their shimmering rod.

“I’m going to open a portal for your monsterfucker dreams to come true and summon all of them to take you. They’ll be happy to breed you like you always wanted, and then once that's completed they can stay in this world permanently.” Jay explained to you in a casual tone about what they planned out for you and you can’t help but blink for a comment.

“You're pulling my leg” You watch them shake their heads.

“No, I was actually elected for this little project, to find a home for many species like me to find a stable planet from a higher power. You are only the start of something much bigger. So happy birthday, hun,”

“Yeah, happy birthday to me, can we get started then?” You take a step closer to Jay, who’s much taller than before.

“Gladly” Jay puts you on the hood of the car with a quickness, you shiver from the cold feeling of metal.

Jay pulled your pants off and let them fall onto the ground, any attempt to close your legs was pointless with the strength Jay was using to keep them open for their exploration. They bite down on the meat of your thigh and you jump a little. Jay makes a trail of wet kisses up to your clothed core, Jay’s eyes staring up at you before they place an open mouth kiss onto your panties. You moan as you feel their tongue soaking your underwear only getting the faintest taste of you dripping behind the fabric. It stuck to your folds like duck tape and you wanted it off. To feel Jay’s actual tongue teasing your entrance instead of pushing your panties between your lower lips.

“Please take them off”

“You sure might forget to control myself and actually do the spell,” Jay smirked as their sharp nail pulled at the seam of your underwear.

“Yes, please.” Jay nods before ripping your panties off and pulls any random bits of fabric from under your ass.

Jay then brings your hips up to meet their face halfway, you are lifted off the hood when their long slimy tongue pushes deep into your pussy. A loud pleased moan escapes you as you feel the fat of your tendril-like tongue slide in and out of you, before finding a place on your clit. It was like it made you see stars and all they did was suck on it a little. You try your best to keep still but your body had other plans as it made futile attempts to squirm.

Jay starts creating symbols over your clit and you feel like something new is running through your veins. It was like the body inside of you was being set ablaze with every flick and shape Jay carefully created with their tongue. The ground started to vibrate and cracks formed into the earth, causing things to shift and pop to life. You felt yourself getting close to a climax. You pull at one of Jay’s ears and they let out a wince-like groan but stop eating you out. You feel dizzy but, at the same time, you are getting some boost in energy. Jay was literally performing magic using your pussy. You had the half in mind to look around you and open your eyes, you could see something akin to a rift forming and growing. Sucking in air at the same time you moaned out in pleasure.

As your body started to shake and tremble a large archway which was pulsing with energy opened, you only caught a hazy view of what looked like armageddon before a small cluster of beings you could only describe as monsters from the shows you liked appeared. Once they all stepped out, the rift closed, and as you were still coming down from your high. You with shaking arms sit up to get a better look at their forms

You reluctantly let Jay pull away from your wet cunt as they turned to greet the monsters that seemed to be quite buddy-buddy with each of them. You pull yourself together and sit up to watch this all go down. Each of them came up to you, and in front of you were nine monsters.

The oni comes up to you first, letting out a grumble before picking you up and putting you on the ground with surprising care, you giggled. A mix of nervousness and excitement as you looked at the massive body that was in front of you.

The oni was shaped like a man but you can tell he was far from it, that much you can tell. He had large manly hands and his nails were sharp. beastly in human form, body littering in shades of grays and reds, while his hair was a mix of blacks and sprinkled whites.

He was wearing a traditional Japanese montsuki but there were also parts of armor that were wrapped around his waist and on his shoulders. He had long pointed ears and long curved horns that headed at least a few inches to his already large height. The oni was around seven feet tall. He had wild glowing yellow eyes and shaped teeth where his canines curved up and out and the bottom went downward. Along with a pepper-colored beard that fits his chin.

“Can I get a name big guy, you know before you tear into me”

“Baru’bane” He muttered before pushing a thick finger into your hole, feeling the wetness of your cunt before pulling it out and putting his finger in his mouth. He frees himself just enough to see the angry red of his fat thick cock.

The sight of it makes your pussy throb with desire and you can't help but try and part your legs open to show that. They all get a look at how wet you are, eyeing you with hunger and impatience as if they were all going to pounce on you at any moment.

Baru’bane grips your ankles and holds them together with one hand. He pushes his red cock into your tight hole. A loud moan erupts from you, in sync with the groans of the oni now fully inside of you. Jay was watching with a smirk from the car hood. Your open mouth moaning out with each thrust was a begging invitation that the group jumped at the opportunity.

Your mouth is filled with the warm flesh of the being you could only describe as a werewolf. He was huge like the rest of the monsters that had come to your world, towering at almost nine feet tall, bulky, and covered in fur from head to clawed toes. His face had shorter hair, a snout like a wolf, and eyes like a hungry beast. Muscles bulging shrouded in fur and hair which was everywhere on him.

You looked up at the beast with teary eyes at them as he pushed his way into your mouth, gagging around him as he stretched your jaw and you could only moan as you tried to help in letting him thrust his wide knot into you. He lets out a sound akin to a howl when he finally manages to get it into your mouth.

“Since he doesn't seem to care about the introductions, I'll do the rest to save you all the trouble of asking,” Jay smirks when you try to look over at them only for the werewolf to hold your face in place. You were feeling like you were in a cloud of nice being thrust into from both ends when you heard Jay speak, you did your best to pay attention and hear what they had to say.

“ Jasindrik is the werewolf for starters, Tegarozann the minotaur, Motoros the shadow breast, Valqoba the Beastman, Naziros the dragon, he's Dakalba a top predator alien species, Urosebira pretty boy type of an elf race, and of course Nodagha the Orc.” Jay listed everyone, and you did your best to look at them while being thrust from both ends.

Baru’bane feels you clenched around him, he groans, getting ready to fill you with his seed. he lifts you up, tilting your body upright so he can fuck into you harder. You get pushed down on Jasindrik as he gets forced deeper down your throat, face deep in his fur. you gagged around him, muffled moans trying to escape and failed to do so. You feel dizzy as an orgasm ripples throughout your body.

You get filled up with the one's thick load, coating your walls in white. Your legs shake here and there and you get a second of respite when he pulls out if you. Jasindrik pulls out of your mouth and slams his cock, knot deep back inside your lips so you can take his finish, filling you up with his werewolf cum. You let out a cry as he slowly pulls out with a loud wet pop coughing up the cum you couldn't swallow.

You try to catch your breath now being empty of men, you take this moment to think about how happy you were and hoping it wasn’t a dream you would wake up from. You were limp on the ground soaking up the breaking you were having. You were covered in sweat and other bodily fluids and you were a bit thirsty and could use a food break. This is what you do for the next thirty minutes as you have time to eat everything, so your body could recover for a second.

You watched as Tegarozann would inch forward ever so often until his large bull-like head was nuzzling against you. He was quite precious looking, his wandering touches light as he made sure not to poke your eyes out with his long hours. You can’t help yourself from feeling him up, touching his brown rays of fluff, his plush stomach, and his tail that curled around your wrist causing you to giggle.

“So pretty” Tegarozann licks your neck causing you to shiver, his highland horns had rings of jewelry on them.

“You're one to talk to, you're so cute.” you can’t resist the urge to run through his hair and pat him like a kid with a new pet.

You pushed his hair from his face looking into his hazel eyes, his hand rubbed at your bare skin, gripping your thighs as he lifted you onto his lap. You tried to look back at him, only for his flat tongue to run up your face. You tense up as you feel his flattened tip stretch you open, you moan as he slides you down his thick length. You scream at the feeling of him sliding deeper than anything you've ever taken, your body feeling split open as he finds a way to enter your womb. You cry, your mind feeling blank as if every shift of Tegarozann’s movement was erasing any thoughts.

He fucks into you from behind, your body against his chest as you hold put by your thighs. Your legs were shaking and your pussy was grippy. Clenching tightly around the cock that literally created a bulge inside you with each womb thrust. Your legs were up by your head and he had you bound against his body. So much for the gentle giant you thought he was a moment ago. You babble incoherent sounds of what you think were sentences. They were not but you have no way to tell. You lost count of how many orgasms you've had since this all started and there's no point in starting now.

You feel him throbbing inside you, knowing he was close after a few minutes or hours of being inside your gate-opening cooch. You feel like you could cum all over again, you were gushing around him, and each impact of his thrust worked to make you dizzy and lightheaded as it kept knocking the wind out of you.

The full Nelson he had you in making it so all you could do was simply take every inch he pumped in and out of you. When you feel his cock comes to a standstill you can feel the amount of his cum filling your stuffed womb. He pulls out when one last moan as he carefully places you on the ground. You whip away the drool that had dripped from your mouth and look at the next monster that was getting ready to take you.

Naziros crawls over to you, his dragon features make you a little nervous but all the more turned on. His wings create a shadow over your form as he moves on top of you basically scooping you off the ground. His black scales shimmered in the setting sun, causing them to actually look purple. His tail pulls you, holding you towards his waist. You try to grab at the tail around your waist, merely trying to get it to loosen up. Naziros takes to this as you are trying to escape and growls at you, a loud bellowing sound as he glares at you with bright orange eyes. You gasped as his grip tightened around you, pressing your stomach down, you thought that it wouldn't be that much of a big deal until he started to penetrate you.

You don’t have anything left to cry, your voice is hoarse and your mind is tipping back into the void space. Naziros has not one but two dicks and he was fully determined to make sure that your womb would have all of his seed. You feel the dual tips wriggling their way into your sensitive walls making you panic a little.

“Wait wai- wait” you stammered, but your pleas were left unheard.

Naziros bottoms off into you, tickling your cervix just enough to feel like he was gonna slip inside if he tilted you. He had one clawed hand holding your arms between your chest as you got thrust into with vigor. You didn’t think you would last long, as you feel the cluster of monster fucks catching up to you as you start to go in and out of consciousness. His cocks rubbed against each other as he was fully inside you. Puffs of black smoke left his maw here and there as he reveled in his pleasure.

The tight grip on your waist pushed your walls against his dragon shlongs. It was a lot and it was taking you out. He nips at you, biting at your exposed flesh to claim you before he fills you with his seamen. You cry as everything starts to hurt you a bit and you run out of orgasms to have. Your body trembles and you pant and heave. You feel like you are about to die as he finishes inside of you and unwraps his tail around you.

“No more, no” You cry out weakly as it comes out as a shaky whisper.

You pass out, and everyone is still hungry for more. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up thinking you were feeling phantom strokes from the day before but that was not the case. Motoros was using his floating cocks to fill you to the brim. He uses his disembodied hands to hold you up, suspended upside down, legs spread open, as two different glowing blue-tipped cocks forced entry into your abused pussy, while another was pushing into your mouth and ass respectively and then the final one used your hand to jerk itself off. You moan around his appendage letting the shadow beast know that he has awakened you from your once peaceful slumber.

“Finally awake, are you darling?” His reverberated voice seemed like it had more than one set of sounds to it. His glowing blue eyes and mouth were gleaming with amusement and chuckled as he sped up the pace of his disjointed cocks.

You whimper around, and you feel like the cock that was trying to reach your throat was a choking hazard as you really think if he really wanted to he could go very far into your esophagus, then again his balls would stop that right? He had different rhythms for each cock inside of you and it was an all kind of overwhelming feeling.

Your eyes rolled back in your head and all the cocks finished like a set of dominoes. The one in your ass, then one in your hand which manages to shoot onto your face and chest, one in your pussy, and finally the one in your mouth. You get dropped with a thud, and spasm as you come down from yet another climax. You open your eyes and see that Motoros’ cum is like movie ectoplasm; a glowing greenish-blue color.

“Need some help. “ Jay and Urosebira walk over to you with a couple of napkins and help you clean. you give them a nod and enjoy your downtime while it lasts. letting them clean the sweat and cum off your body.

“There you go, all decent”. Urosebira said while ripping his strawberry red locks dramatically as it caught some wind time. A unique contrast to his purple skin, his eyes matching more of his hair than his skin, he was looking at you with an enthralled gaze.

“ Now it's fine for us to mess you back up with us,” Jay smirks as they massage your hair, and pull you back on their lap. you look up at them.

“Besides you owe me these lips” Jay traces your lips slowly as they part your lips with their thumb. You part your mouth and let them slide, their fingers into your mouth gliding against your tongue. Jay let's have a slightly amused breath, meanwhile, Urosebira makes a home seated between your thighs.

You suck on Jay’s fingers, while Urosebira spreads your folds open before his easy insertion. Urosebira slides his slender and smooth cock. He moves forward until he can't anymore. you whimper around Jay’s fingers which were slick with spit. He sits up so he pats your face with his pretty cock. Your mind escaping you after all the countless cocks that have claimed me over and over.

Urosebira gets fully seated inside with a sultry pant that causes you to clench around you. He had you twisted waist down sideways. One of your legs up against his chest as he started to roll his hips. Your upper body has you laying a bit on your chest as you suck Jay off. Causing you to have to contort to please both of them properly. You shudder when Urosebira starts to circle your clit in tune with his thrust.

Jay massages one of your nipples as he fucks your face. Switching between the others to give them both attention. They plunged into you over and over at an alternating pace. They eventually start to pick up their pace as they get closer to filling your holes. you along with them getting closer and closer. Urosebira puts more pressure on your clit. You whine around Jay as you fall into your climax. They work you through your peak, gently.

“You did so well for us” Urosebira coos as he pulls out of your filled pussy.

“Pretty sound honey. makes me want to do more with you” Jay pulls out of your mouth and learns to kiss your forehead.

You smile at them, really pretty decent and like you could go again. But this thought is seemingly not a good one. When you see a certain beast pull you with an aggressive yank in his direction. Dakalba holds you down, his tough bumpy skin of the predator.

His unnatural mouth clicks with mandibles as a growl rumbles within him. Dakalba's claws dug into your skin, scratching his way up to wrapping his hand tightly around your neck. Your heart was racing with fear and adrenaline, but also excitement. You almost screamed when you felt him ram his ridge-covered cock. The bumps add a confusing pleasure within you. His hip was like a thick flower pushing at every spot you could have.

His thrust was rough from the start, it caused you to squirm or at least you tried to. His cock is on the line of sensory heaven and hell as he pounds into you. He heads using your body to move you on his cock treating you like a fleshlight. He had a tight grip on you and you can't escape. One hand was moving you up and down his cock and the other hand was around your neck which was definitely getting together.

You whimper as you get dizzy and Dakalba basically starts to choke you. Grabbing his hand around your neck you try to pull it off of you even if just a little. Instead, he leans down and bites you.

“ow ow ow” You cried out a bit and you clenched around his cock. You looked at the drops of your blood dripping down from the mark. His mandibles find a new place to mark you up and draw blood. Dakalba picks up his already ruthless pace. His claws ripped into your back and you swear you start to see spots in your vision. He controls the angles of your body by treating you like a rag doll and choking you out everything you tried to move on your own.

He slams his hips over last time as he cums inside you, licking your wounds and working you from a lightheaded orgasm. You go limp and complicit after he pulls away from you with a couple of what you assume are happy clicks, leaving you alone.

“Oh that looked like a lot, are you okay?” Nodagha asked even though he had an amused look on his face, looking at all the scratches and bruises along your body.

“Everything is intake… I think” you muttered with a nod.

“How about I take you over here for a somewhat secluded spot for lunch and a break.” Nodagha picked you up and brought you to a new spot.

Nodagha holds you upside down, you dangling in his grasp as he has your legs on his shoulders. you wrap your lips around his cock, sucking him eagerly. He tilts your hips to meet his mouth as he starts to eat you out. Nodagha tusk rubs against your thighs. you moan against his cock as you take him as far as you can, boring your head along his length. Nodagha’s fat tongue laps up your juices with a growing hunger. You were dizzy from being upside down for so long but you don't care.

You keep slurping his meat, gargling his taste like it was a defined taste you needed in you. your legs spasmed as you got closer to what felt like your hundredth orgasm. He rocked his hips into your face as he reached an end. He eats you out to completion. He bends you over and pulls out of your mouth. He rams his hips into your wet pussy letting you have the fruit of your mouth’s efforts. You let out one final moan as he cums inside you.

“How about we get you some actual food?” Nodagha laughs a bit as he pulls out of you with a sloppy sound. A smile on his face as he gets ready to try and feed you.

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After many rounds, you feel like you need to break and everyone is still so needy for you. When they pull away from you, this is your chance to try to run off. Shaking legs only carry you so far before they give out, dropping to the ground. You then use your arms and try to army crawl away which only aids in you feeling chagrined. You still try to get away like a wounded animal. This also triggers the animalistic beast to tap into their instinct and pounce on you and claim your pussy one after another. You were sure that they were gonna eat you.

Valqoba being one of those beastmen, he reminded you of a large wild cat. He had a lot of energy and he was coming back for more after everyone else had gone after you. He pulled you into his lap, holding you like a bride in his arms. your legs pulled together and you knew what he wanted. You tilted your head and grabbed his cock from under you and helped guide him to your heat.

He bounced you up and down his shaft, stopping just before his knot couldn't force its way inside you, like a slight teasing notion that you couldn't help but clench around him. Valqoba picked up the pace, leaning his head down to suck on your breast. A loud bellow escapes your lips and you wrap a hand in his fur.

“You're so perfect for this” Valqoba mumbled against your skin as he continued to bite and suck the closest parts of you to his face.

He pulls you deeper onto him, his knot moving in and out of you with several of you with wet pops. Valqoba was getting close and so were you. His movements are getting frenzy and rougher with you. However, he made sure to litter you with kisses and mutter soft praises in your ear. You both reached your peak together in a harmonized sound. You feel him paint your inside, talking to you as you come down from your high.

He was still inside of you, his knot seated within you, he had you on your side as his little spoon and was kissing your shoulder and neck. Valqoba made sure that you were resting comfortably, laying on the softness of his fluffy tail. It was like a warm pillow, and you quickly fell asleep next toValqoba. When you woke up he was still inside of you, still petting you, and still kissing your exposed skin while praising you softly. It was enough for you to fall right back asleep and snuggled up with him.

By the time you woke up empty, you had just been looking up at the sky after all your encounters, staring at the setting sun, with no will to move. You were full of joy with the whole encounter and this was the best birthday week you could ever ask for and it will be one that you remember forever. You were limp on a little blanket, just enjoying the warm air on your naked body, making you shiver a bit. You have never been more thoroughly fucked like this ever. Nothing could or ever compare to this and you had no regrets. You watched as several shadows surrounded you.

“I think we're in need of a celebration of what's to come” You look around at all of them stroking themselves.

You enjoy the view of all of them about you. Using your image to get off to you, full of their cum. They stare at your naked sweaty body like you are a fine cuisine. You were drooling a bit, holding your mouth open ready to lap up any cum that would land close enough to your open mouth. You listen to each sound they make as they get closer to their final release for the night. You watch them shoot their loads onto you, and you giggle, relaxing as the warm liquid lands on you.

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In about a month's time you noticed you were getting kinda pudgy, you supposed that you had been eating more than usual but not enough to have your stomach poking out like this. Were you… pregnant? The timing matched up but showing this early?

So you did only what you knew to be the right decision and went to ask Jay.

“Hey, Mamas, you’re sure glowing today,” Jay said as they leaned on the counter and ate an apple.

“Is that you being yourself or am I actually pregnant?” You asked.

“Oh, you’re pregnant alright, after all the breeding you went through there was no way you weren’t going to end up with a bun in the oven,”

You talked some more about what to expect with Jay, after all a monster pregnancy would be nothing like a human one, and even then you’ve never been pregnant. You ate some breakfast and then went to look at yourself in the mirror. Pregnant, huh? You never really thought about being pregnant but you weren't opposed to it.

As the months passed pregnancy was… wild. From the cravings to the mood swings. Luckily all your monster lovers pampered you with more love and attention than you could ever ask for. And if you weren't getting showered with attention from your friends and family. If you were being honest you were putting off telling them. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to explain, that you were impregnated by several monsters and your best friend.

They understandably freaked out, but in the end, they took it well, if anything after a while you got tired of how much special treatment you got, you didn’t need to be escorted to the bathroom. At least that was the case until your third trimester.

Your stomach was starting to look like a torpedo, your back hurt like crazy, your feet were swollen and sore, it was so bad you had to be put on bed rest. So for the last month, you spent most of your time. In catching up on K-dramas and being fed fancy organic food

Birth however… was another story altogether you had to get a c-section, just the thought that they were going to have to cut you open made you uncomfortable, but it was the safer option as a human having a monstrous pregnancy. You almost died but hey you didn’t!

And SURPRISE! You had twins, a boy and a girl. For how big your stomach had gotten you had expected them to be bigger however, they were surprisingly small compared to what size you thought they would be. Compared to the average size for twins though they had some size on them. They grew surprisingly quickly, not much time had passed a few months and they already were toddler sized. Still babies but very big babies..

Your children look more and more like their fathers every day, tusks, scales, fur, shadow hands, vibrant colored eyes, horns and wild hair. They were a handful that’s for sure. Luckily for any trouble they might give you, their many fathers are there to help you

Now you’re bonded for life with your own special harem of monsters and the gateway has opened from their world. Now anyone can fuck and be fucked by the monster (or monsters) of their choice.

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia: (Part Twenty-Two)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content: Aftercare, Miguel is still rutting, Reader is in heat, Breeding kink, Overstimulation, Gentle PinV sex, Soaking.

Word count: 3906

When you woke it was slow, as even moving your eyelids felt laborious.

You didn’t remember going to sleep. Really, you barely remembered anything, spare the faint memories of being glued to Mig on the bed to engage in the sleepiest sex possible.

You were sore, exhausted, groggy and stiff. When you moved your legs even an inch they ached, and you could feel just from that that you were too weak to stand. Internally you felt stuffed, almost like his shaft was still inside you, but you realized quickly it was just copious amounts of cum mixed with the left-over soreness of being stretched and pounded well beyond human limits.

You could still feel the lingering fingerprints on your skin where he’d grabbed you, the lingering teeth marks on your neck where he’d bitten you to offer relief.

You let out a low groan. God, even the ache was enjoyable. You had been utterly used.

‘Mm…. Hey, Mig?’

You mumbled his name and wiped your eyes but got no response. As you adjusted to the dim light you began scrambling for any connection to the outside world, pulling up the watch still loosely hanging from your wrist.

You squinted at the bright light as it flashed to life, and then baulked in horror. Two whole days had passed. Two days lost to that pollen mist, two days of non-stop fucking, two days with no contact with anyone else.

You groaned and rolled on the bed. ‘Fuck, fuck…. Argh, fuck.’

As you rolled on the mattress you finally found Mig, who thankfully hadn’t left the bedroom either. He was fast asleep with his legs curled beneath his abdominal belly and his head in his arms, softly snoring and whining in his sleep.

You sighed and shuffled closer, nestling into the warm fluff of his body. He grunted and, in his sleep, pulled you towards him. He held you taut to his body, like a small plush doll, and you held him back.

‘Mig’ you whispered. He didn’t respond.

‘Mig’ you said a little louder. You patted his leg and watched it twitch, slowly stirring him back to wakefulness. His snores turned to grumbling.

‘Mmm… Arañita…’

He moved in a way that immediately made you flinch, with his arms sliding down to scoop your waist and pull you closer.

‘Woah, woah—no more, no more’ you said. ‘Stalemate, Mig, stalemate.’

At that he opened his eyes fully. He seemed confused. ‘No, more…. oh.’ His eyes widened as his memories flooded back, overloading his senses with everything that had happened over the past two days.  

‘I… Oh, arañita, I—’ he pulled back slowly while still keeping you within his embrace, both as a gesture to show he was no longer in need of your body and to check it for damage.

‘Are you, okay?’ he whispered. You slowly nodded.

‘I’m… I’m okay, yeah.’

‘Are you sure? I didn’t hurt you?’ he whispered, his voice a little more desperate this time around. You shook your head.

‘I mean I’m- really sore, and, tired, but… I assume you are too.’

He sighed. ‘Ah- Yes, I, am. I never thought I would say this, but I would beg you please to not even, brush my genitalia for the next 48 hours, I fear I might… cry.’

You couldn’t help but giggle a little at that. Your monstrous, confident, potent lover was no more, and your sweet dork was back. You stroked his cheek with your thumb and he nestled into the touch.

‘Mm… How bad is the damage then?’ he mumbled sleepily. He raised his head to peer about the room and immediately choked in horror.

The room was saturated in cum to an almost comedic degree. On the bed, the floors, the walls, coating the thick dangling web left torn from the ceiling.

‘I…. Oh, dear.’ He swallowed hard as his brows furrowed. ‘Ah… I, did… Ah. Are you, sure you’re okay?’

He bent to sniff you, his hands gently squishing your belly and thighs. You raised your hands in an attempt to warn him but you were too late. ‘Wait, Miggy don’t—’

As he pressed on you and coaxed your legs aside you immediately felt more ejaculate leak out, revealing just how stuffed you still were. You looked away in embarrassment while Mig struggled to push down his arousal. Somehow, even after all he’d already done, it still excited him.

‘Ah—I’m so sorry, oh—poor arañita’ he blurted. Before you could say a thing in response he rushed straight into after-care mode.

He bundled you up and quickly spun a sheet of silk to saturate with his venom. He made about three of these in total, all of which he then smoothed over your body; two to cover your hips and thighs, and one very tenderly pressed to your sex. It had a strange, cooling effect on the skin and did quickly help to numb the pain.

He kissed from your inner thigh up to your cheek before pulling you close to rest in his fur. ‘Mi arañita’ he whined.

‘It’s okay’ you repeated. ‘It’s okay, I promise. We—both, went a little… wild, but, that’s nothing new. I can deal with it.’

‘I… Didn’t, even know it was possible to produce that much’ he murmured, more to himself than to you. He couldn’t help but fixate on the utter mess surrounding his bed, knowing that he’d tried to fit every single inch of that inside you. Again, to his great embarrassment, it still excited him a little.

‘I mean neither did I. I knew you were… virile, but, taking two whole days to run out?’ you noted with a yawn.

‘Ah… I don’t know if I even did run out. I don’t remember’ he grunted. ‘Did I run out, or—did you get too sore, or, did I get too tired? I-I don’t know.’

‘You MUST have run out’ you insisted. ‘There’s no way you just, kept producing that much cum for two days.’

‘I don’t know’ he said shyly. ‘I… Maybe, I did. I mean I remember we did start to slow down but I thought that was just the pollen losing its grip.’

‘We did?’

‘Ah, yes. Do you not remember?’

‘I remember when you, uh—’ you paused as you felt the heat rising in your cheeks, ‘I remember you, sticking me to your belly so you could just, be permanently inside me, so you could cum when you needed to.’

You saw Mig’s eyes twitch, his lips pursing hard to hold back any unwanted noises. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this right now.

‘Mm… Yes, we did that for a while, and then you fell asleep, so I stopped. I… rubbed myself on the sheets and, smelled you for comfort, then you woke up and begged for more, I—tried to just stimulate you with my fingers to avoid making you sore but you were… insistent. So I came in you again. Then we both fell asleep, and, upon waking we would mate every, hour or so, I’d say, then every three hours until… we fell asleep, again.’

You stared at him as he spoke. You did vaguely remember what he was talking about. There were fuzzy, erotic memories lingering at the back of your mind in blurry detail; the flash of a plush, red cock filling you up, the sound of him grunting, the pleading for more than his thick, calloused fingers.

You coughed to push down any possible brewing of sexual tension. You couldn’t handle any more.

‘Right. Right, so… you didn’t run out, we just, got sleepy. My goodness you are terrifying.’

Mig gave a shy little laugh. It always looked so strange to see that hulking, muscled, hairy man coyly shrugging his shoulders. ‘I apologize again, mi tesoro. I didn’t mean to overload you.’

‘No, don’t apologize, just… my god, do you not feel like- drained? Or, tired, or… empty, for lack of a better word? Is your body just a, literal cum factory?’

Again, Mig shrugged. He seemed both bashful at the attention you were showing his body and a little bit proud of how shocked you were. ‘I feel… tired, and, sensitive there, but, not empty, no. I believe the pollen may have just coincided with my usual rut cycle so my body is prepared specifically to produce as much as possible.’

‘With your usual… Wait, do you think I’m also—’

Mig bent before you could finish, his nose nestling into your neck to take a deep, heavy sniff. You felt the air brush your skin as he breathed in and out.

‘Mm… Yes, you are in heat’ he said, blunt as ever. ‘That would explain your eagerness.’

‘Oh…. Shit, already?’

‘It has been a month or so. We should have been prepared’ Mig said matter-of-factly. For once his blunt, pragmatic attitude grated on you.

‘Uh…. This is gonna be so annoying to explain to—’ you paused midway through your rambling as a new, horrifying realization hit you. Mig watched as you frantically scrabbled with your watch.

‘SHIT—Shit, we didn’t—tell anyone at the HQ we’d been gone, shit—’

You’d completely forgotten about the HQ, and about your obligations to them. If you’d vanished after a mission for two days without warning there was bound to be trouble waiting for you.

There was something that worried you much more, however, and that was the fact you’d left Miguel at the HQ after the pollen fight. He could have said or done anything in the time you’d been incapacitated with lust.

You drew up a list of contacts and immediately went to Jess. She picked up quickly, and without delay you went into a manic monologue trying to salvage your relationship with the society.

‘Hey, Jess I- I’m so, SO sorry, about being gone, I know I promised we wouldn’t have any more un-notified absences, but I can explain—’

‘What? What do you mean?’

You blinked as Jess’s voice floated through. That wasn’t what you’d been expecting to hear at all. Why did she sound confused? Why wasn’t she angry, or concerned?

‘I- Me and, Mig being, gone the past two days—’

‘Yeah, I know’ Jess said. Now she sounded really confused. ‘Of course you’re gone, you put in the paperwork.’

Slowly your face condensed into a frown. You hadn’t had the foresight to send in a leave of absence, had you? You glanced at Mig and awkwardly covered the watch with your hand. ‘Did- Did you, file for absence?’ you hissed.

Mig furrowed his brow in a sweet little imitation of your own confusion. ‘I- Mi arañita, I was strapped to your vaginal cavity, I could not—’

‘AT- SHH, SHH- oh my god, Mig!’ You violently shushed Mig and his overzealous oversharing as the watch audio crackled beneath your palm. He obediently silenced himself.

‘We— Sorry, Jess, ah- we, didn’t file paperwork for this’ you said slowly.

‘What do you mean you didn’t? Miguel gave me the signed paperwork two days ago, made me hand it into HR’ Jess said. Her voice had gone from confused to mildly annoyed, but you didn’t reply.

You had fully frozen up. Miguel? Miguel gave her paperwork to give you both time off? Why? You were sure he would have been the one to sabotage you, to imply you’d run off from your duties again so you and Mig would get kicked out, especially after how things left off.

You thought about his snapping teeth, his violent possessive grabbing of your body as he rubbed himself against your back while Mig rubbed up on your front, and immediately felt a flush fill your cheeks.

But, he’d just, handed in paperwork for you…?

‘So… So, wait, Miguel already signed us off?’ you said.

‘Yes! How do you not—it was signed, and everything, by both of you. He said you were- dealing with some stuff and needed time out, for about a week or so. Did Miguel fake the papers or something?’

‘Ah- No! No, we- do need time off, just uh… I guess, I, forgot. That’s all. Sorry. Thanks Jess!’

In a panic you slammed the hang-up button and turned to Mig. He looked just as confused as you.

‘So… Miguel, signed us out?’ you slowly repeated. Mig furrowed his brow. The mention of that man still seemed to spark a great, unrulable fire of conflicting feelings in him.

‘It…. Would seem so’ he said slowly.

‘But why?! Why would—After what happened, why would he do us a favor like that?’

‘I don’t know’ Mig grunted. He was avoiding eye contact now, his gaze fixed on the wall.

‘It doesn’t make sense, he—’

You turned mid-rant as a low beeping noise filled the room. Your watch was going off again. You raised it expecting to perhaps see Jess, or maybe even Miguel, but you were surprised to see Peter’s name flashing up on the screen. You clicked receive.

‘Hey, Peter, now’s not a great time—’

‘Hey! Hey guys, sorry uh, won’t be long, I really just-- Have you guys seen Miguel?!’

Your frown grew deeper. Okay, this was getting very strange now. ‘We… No, we, haven’t seen Miguel for a while’ you replied cautiously.

‘For a while—o-okay, when did you last see him?’ Peter asked. You noted that he sounded out of breath.

‘We—saw him roughly two days ago, why?’

‘Ah, shoot—okay, okay, no worries. He uh- He hasn’t been reachable, for about two days, we went around the HQ and did a few little things before saying he needed to deal with some stuff and just- vanished. Just, vanished.’

‘Huh… Okay, um- well, I’ll let you know if I see him’ you said after a moments silence.

‘Yeah! Yeahh, please do, ah- he hasn’t been in a good headspace for a while, I just- I’m worried about him. I’m sure it’s fine, I just… Never mind, thanks guys. Take care!’

The watch hung up with a click, leaving you and Mig staring at each other. The confusion between you had only deepened.

‘So….’ you said slowly.

‘So…’ Mig replied.

For a minute or so you both sat in silence. You were both trying your best to make sense of what you’d just heard, but in the end Mig couldn’t stand to be alone with his thoughts. 

‘I um- I think I should wash you, mi arañita’ he said. ‘I will clean myself as well, but, you definitely need it.’

‘Hmm? What? Oh—Oh, I can wash myself, Mig, you don’t—’

‘Arañita, I do’ Mig insisted, gently but firmly interrupting your rebuttal. ‘I do, need to wash you. Because you will not be able to stand on your own, let alone run the water and bring it to the bath. Do you understand?’

You huffed a little at what felt like babying to you, until you remembered how your legs had buckled at just the act of rolling in bed. As you moved them again beneath the sheets you realized he was right; you couldn’t hold your own weight.

‘I—Okay’ you sighed. ‘Okay. Let’s- clean up.’

As Mig cleaned the room and ran you a bath you both had time to think.

For you, Miguel’s sudden change of heart was worrying. Could he actually have started feeling bad? He had run in to help you, which was something at least, but the more you thought about it the more you realized how foolish it was to give Miguel credit for the bare minimum. He’d been an absolute demon for your entire relationship, and now he’d just changed out of nowhere? Whatever was happening, you needed more evidence than just this before you were willing to speak with him again.

Mig, in contrast to your own thoughts, was far more cynical. He had glad to hear that Miguel was gone, but he hated himself for still being partially worried about the man. He’d thought after the fight he’d stop caring completely, but Miguel was still him. They were still intertwined, and they still had a history of trying to support each other.

He just couldn’t see his sudden act of generosity as anything other than a ploy of some kind. An attempt to make them feel in debt to him, or a way to suck up to you for his own needs perhaps. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

He just tried to focus on the here and now.

Mig used heated water from the firepit in the middle of the den to fill a wooden bathtub, and while it was heating, he tried his best to clear the bedroom of his copious ejaculate. He certainly did his best with his cumbersome spider paws.

You lounged about until it was time to go, and when the bath was ready you let him carry your weak, exhausted body through the tunnels and into the little makeshift bathroom he’d built beneath the earth. He lowered you down into the steaming water with absolute care.

The water was an absolute life saver as it covered your bruised skin and sore muscles. You practically collapsed into the warmth.

‘Fuck…. Oh that’s so much better’ you moaned. Mig purred and rustled with pleasure to see you relaxed.

You lay back as he removed the strips of silk on your skin and used his human hands to clear you of two days worth of sweat, slick, spit and god knows what else, all in a sweet and comfortable silence.

It wasn’t until he was halfway through cleaning that he spoke again.

‘Ah, arañita?’

‘Mhm?’

‘I—About, the, fight. With, Miguel’ he started, his voice slow and awkward. You opened one eye and silently gestured for him to continue.

‘I want to apologize, mi arañita. I- I don’t, like how I acted back there.’

‘Hey, it’s fine. It was the- whatever that stuff was.’

‘I… I meant, the violence’ Mig murmured.

‘Yeah, I know. It was the stuff, the—pollen or whatever. I know it made you a little loopy.’

‘I’m not sure it was just the—jealousy’ Mig rebutted. ‘

‘I don’t- want to be like him. I don’t want to be angry. I’m- scared, of being angry’ he said, his voice dipping. ‘Whether he deserved it or not, he… It’s not what I want for me. It’s not what I want for you.’

Your face softened as you realized what he meant. He didn’t want to believe his past mistakes might have been intrinsic to his nature, that he and Miguel were, as he feared, stuck in a cycle of violence and revenge.

You reached out to stroke his cheek. ‘Hey. You’re okay. I know it was the pollen, because god knows that man’s fucked with us before, and you never acted out. Plus… I mean even if it wasn’t, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it.’

‘Mi arañita, don’t say that—’

‘But it’s true! You weren’t…. Ah, look, it—you have always, always, acted in self-defence. Miguel grabbed me. He told you to stop him. You did.’

Mig stiffened his lip as you quietly acknowledged what he was thinking. You didn’t say it outright, but you were both thinking the same thing. About Dana, about his past.

‘I still trust you’ you said gently. ‘I mean, I trusted you enough to let you fuck me afterwards. Like, thirty times. Clearly you didn’t scare me that badly.’

Mig gave a soft chuckle at that. ‘I suppose that is true. Though, I’d bet it was more than thirty, mi tesoro. Far more.’

You chuckled back. Without thinking Mig allowed his mind to wander, back to those past two days. Back to the sight of you penetrated on his shaft, to the sounds you made as he moved inside you, to the feeling of unloading himself into your willing body.

A soft whimper escaped his lips. He couldn’t help it. He’d daydreamed in that haze about watching you get round and plump with his offspring, of his seed taking to you with ease. It was what his body craved so badly; he couldn’t escape the pleasure of that fantasy even if he knew he shouldn’t.

So much cum. So much virile seed. So much wasted, and yet so much still left inside you.

You’d most certainly taken most of it into your womb by this point, he thought. He’d probably stuffed that too. A sweet, soft part of you was filled with him, with his genetic imprint. Even if not pregnant you were carrying him.

A low shudder went through his body. Oh no. That rut. That heat. He felt his phallus beneath his thick fur stirring and throbbing as blood rushed to fill it.

His first thought was to leave, to give you space, but as he bent down to apologize he heard you mewl. You were slumped in the tub, your thighs slowly shifting against each other to offer a small bit of stimulation.

Oh no. It was hitting you too.

‘Ah… arañita’ he whispered. The sound of his voice made you squirm. You could feel it, that white hot pain in your gut that could only be relieved one way.

‘Arañita, you’re still sore. We can’t’ he hissed. You panted a little and he had to physically clamp a hand on his slit to stop his erection bursting forth. You didn’t help matters by continuing to let soft, pathetic whines escape your pursed lips.

It was like magnetism. You were drawn to him, even though you anticipated the ache you knew it would be less painful than the tug in your loins for consummation. Mig knew it too.

In a frenzy he pulled your body from the water and held it to him with his hands and forelegs, perfectly spreading your legs apart around his flurry abdomen. You were dripping wet, completely naked in his grip. His breath steamed as it swirled around his barred fangs.

‘Just…. Just, a bit, I—I’ll do this, gently, to make it stop’ he whined. You frantically nodded, and you let him have you again. 

Mig stuck to his word. He pushed only the very tip of his cock inside you and began to tenderly rub it around the rim of your cunt, refusing to fully enter. You let out a low moan of relief at even that subtle touch, that tender probing. It felt good to fixate on his touch, on the way his thick shaft curiously penetrating back and forth, all while giving you a perfect show. You got to lie back in his grip and watch it moving, poking, teasing, tasting, desperate to fill you again. 

He teased you quick, pushing just to end the agony in both of you, teasing and rubbing himself on those soft, gummy walls. It didn’t take long for his overstimulated body to tip.

'Must- breed- you-' 

The moment he peaked he gripped you tight, forcing himself to remain only an inch or so inside you. You gripped him back.

‘F-Fuck, Mig—!' 

With a violent groan he orgasmed in almost total stillness, allowing those thick ropes to coat what little space remained on your insides. You relished in the sweet, warm release that he offered, that addictive rhythmic motion of being touched and filled. You got to watch that too. You got to watch that plush, red shaft pulsing and expanding as it filled you, and you got to watch it dripping out. 

The moment he was drained he pulled out and lifted you up to his face. In a dizzy state he licked at your cunt, gently slathering it with venom to ease any soreness he’d caused. You whimpered the whole time, quietly thanking him.

With a sigh he lowered you back into his arms.

‘Okay… Let’s, get you back to bed’ he panted. ‘This is… this is going to be a long week.’

Link to next part!

[mcspirkevents]

20 more days till Mcspirk Month 2024

McSpirk Month, what is it, and how does it work?

Mcspirk Month is a fandom event meant to celebrate the ship of McCoy/Spock/Kirk, in any and all forms. QPRs are valid, and celebrated here.

If you make something for Mcspirk month you can post it on tumblr and tag this blog (I'll reblog your works). You can also post it to the Ao3 collection, found here.

Mcspirk month 2024 begins March 1st. However you can post whenever you want. (If you find these prompt lists five years after the fact and still want to post to the collection, or tag this blog then go for it!)

Can I mix and match prompts?

Absolutely! If there's an NSFW prompt you want to write the most tooth-rotting, safe for work fluff with, then do it. The vice versa is also cool.

What are the Bonus prompts?

They are extra prompts. If there's a day with a prompt you don't like, you can switch it out with the bonus prompts. You could even combine them with other prompts if you want.

Below the cut will be written out list of the days and prompts. The NSFW list is below the cut.

SFW list of prompts:

Day 1: Forced Proximity

Day 2: Touch-starved

Day 3: Badass Power Throuple

Day 4: Hand Holding

Day 5: Hurt/Comfort

Day 6: Protective McCoy

Day 7: Going to a Planet Where They Have To Wear Silly Outfits

Day 8:Public Display of Affection

Day 9: Spock is a Hopeless Romantic

Day 10: Hands

Day 11: Shore Leave

Day 12: Vulnerability

Day 13: Time Loop

Day 14: Tarsus IV

Day 15: Fake Dating

Day 16: Lost the Ability to Speak

Day 17: McCoy Hurt with Spock and Kirk Comfort

Day 18: Jealous Bones

Day 19: Kirk is Missing, Presumed Dead

Day 20: Trans

Day 21: Academy Era

Day 22: Oblivious Scotty

Day 23: Reunion

Day 24: Temporary Blindness

Day 25: Temporary Awkward Ability

Day 26: Western AU

Day 27: Vacation Gone Awry

Day 28: Awkward Spock

Day 29: TOS/AOS Crossover

Day 30: Desperate Measures

Day 31: Insecurity

Bonus Prompt #1: Chekov discovers the truth

Bonus Prompt #2: Pining

Bonus Prompt #3: Nightmares

Bonus Prompt #4: Uhura helps them out

Here is the NSFW Prompt list:

NSFW list of prompts:

Day 1: Non-Human Genitalia

Day 2: Hands

Day 3: Only One Bed

Day 4: Pon Farr

Day 5: Against A Wall

Day 6: Vulcan Biology

Day 7: Hand Kink

Day 8: Finger Kink

Day 9: Telepathic Sex

Day 10: Double Penetration

Day 11: Fuck or Die

Day 12: Aliens Made them Do It

Day 13: Sex in a Three Way Body Swap

Day 14: Power Dynamics

Day 15: Uniform Kink

Day 16: Body Worship

Day 17: First Time Bottoming

Day 18: Oral Fixation

Day 19: Sex Toys

Day 20: Accidental Voyeurism

Day 21: Bondage

Day 22: Mirrorverse

Day 23: Teasing

Day 24: Alien Biology

Day 25: Praise Kink

Day 26: Expectations vs Reality

Day 27: Voyeurism

Day 28: Trying a New Toy

Day 29: Getting Interrupted

Day 30: Spitroasting

Day 31: Lab Desk

Bonus Prompt #1: Pet Names

Bonus Prompt #2: Body Hair

Bonus Prompt #3: Blindfolds

Bonus Prompt #4: Misuse of the bond

[steddieunderdogfics]

For monsterfucker theme weekend, would like to submit Angel of the Morning by stevieschrodinger! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47804572

Angel of the Morning by Stevieschrodinger

@stevieschrodinger

Rating: Explicit

2,799 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Mythical Beings & Creatures, Fantasy AU, Getting Together, Wing Kink, Angel Steve Harrington, Demon Eddie Munson, Animal Traits, Non-Human Genitalia, mentions of mpreg, Chrissy died, True Mates, Knotting, Accidental Knotting

Summary:

Rob moves closer, pressed together fingers to shoulder, she tilts her head so that her snakes can greet him. They nose Steve’s cheek gently at first, uncertain, before Steve nuzzles them and then they all join in, Steve’s face being licked by dozens of happy tongues. Robin giggles, “dingus.” All of Robin’s snakes sit low, relaxed, all lovely shades of copper and bronze, just like the scales that decorate her cheekbones and eyebrows. Steve looks down; she’s done something to the scales, glitter, or something, but it looks pretty. Steve before wouldn’t know how to do this; how to give a simple honest compliment to a friend. Old Steve only said things that were shitty, just to make him feel better about himself, “looks nice, the,” Steve gestures vaguely to the space next to his own eyes, where white downy feathers lie flat to his skin, “shiny. I like it."

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Monster Fucking.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[tallulah477]

Prove To You

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Yandere!Neteyam, ***NON-CON***, Dub-con, Predator/Prey Kink, Chasing, Obsessive/Possessive Behavior, Oral (female receiving), Edging/Orgasm Delay, P in V, Knotting, Size Difference, Fingering, Slight Degradation (use of 'whore'), Belly Bulge, Lapdance (kinda), Creampie, Alien Genitalia, Squirting, A Few Ass Slaps, Mentions of drinking and being tipsy/drunk, Brief Violence/Violent Thoughts (not towards reader), Brief mention of pregnancy, Threat of cutting off another's kuru/neural queue, Thoughts of killing/murder, One (1) non-sexual face slap (reader slaps Neteyam)

Word Count: 9.7K 💀

A/N: Hiiiii it's been a while 🤷🏻‍♀️

Summary: It was only ever supposed to be a hookup, something fun to pass the time. But to Neteyam, it was so much more than that. He's in love with you, obsessed with you - his perfect little mate. But he doesn't know why you keep running away.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Yawne - Beloved

Tìyawn - Love

Tweng - Loincloth

Tawtute - Human

Kuru - Neural Queue

Tsaheylu - Bond, Neural Connection

Swoasey - kava bowl (constructed from seed pods, used for drinking intoxicating beverages)

Kaltxì - Hello

Pxir - Beer

Tsahìk - Spiritual Leader / Healer

Skxawng - Moron / Idiot

Iknimaya - Rite of Passage

Oel Ngati Kameie - I See You

Tanhì - Star

Muntxate - Wife, Female Spouse

Mawey - Calm

He’d only wanted to kiss you. To feel your soft lips pressed against his again. 

It had been so long since he’d gotten to feel them. The mask you have to wear is always a frustrating obstacle. He begs from time to time for you to pull it off, just for a moment, so he can press his warm lips to yours, taste your tongue on his just for a few blissful seconds before the lack of air catches up with you and you have to replace it.

You always say no, always push his hand away from where he has it cupped lovingly around the side of your head, but it never stops him from asking. 

You’re not wearing a mask now though. Instead, a long tube spans one side of your face, curling around your ear and stretching across your cheek before the very end of it forks off into your nostrils. At first glance he panicked, terrified of the thought of you out in the dangerous Pandora environment as a human without your only source of oxygen. It’s silly. He knows that you could have never made it to the village from the lab without some way of breathing. But he can’t help how he reacts, needing to be sure, needing to know that you’re okay. 

He’s at your side in an instant, kneeling in front of your tiny frame, large hands engulfing your head as his eyes searched your face in concern. You smack his hand away, answering his concerned questions of “Ma yawne, what is going on? Are you okay?” with a short “Fine. It’s the new tech the lab guys made,”

He calms, anxiety slipping from his body now that he knows you’re still safe. His eyes flicker over your face, a small smile pulling at his lips as he takes in all your beautiful features in front of him. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, he’s always thought that, ever since the very first moment he met you all those years ago. But now here, without the thick layer of glass covering your face, it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. 

“You’re so pretty, tìyawn,” He whispers, fingers unconsciously reaching out again to brush against your cheek. It’s finally accessible, bare and soft under his fingertips before the dull sting of another slap knocks his hand away. 

You don’t like public displays of affection. 

Or, at least, now you don’t. 

You used to not mind it. Back before that night in front of the fire, you would touch him all the time - sweet and gentle touches when you were talking, so tactile in your interactions with him. A quick squeeze to his knee whenever he was able to make you laugh, friendly half hugs as greetings that would make his heart pound in his chest every single time, your intoxicating scent filling his lungs and suffocating him in the best way. 

He’d keep his nose buried in your neck, breathing you in until you were all he could smell or think about for the rest of eternity if he could. 

He used to carry you places when you would tag along on fun adventures with him and his siblings. Excitement coursed through him every time you agreed to join them, tail swishing eagerly behind him because he knew that eventually you would get tired from walking and allow him to carry you on his back. You like to talk, prattling on about whatever was going on at the lab or a fun new piece of tech that Norm and the others were working on. Sometimes you’d talk about the current drama - someone said you talked too much, were too abrasive, but that you thought that they personally needed to grow a backbone. He’d listen to whatever you had to say - soaking up your voice like the most melodic song and committing every detail you provide him to memory. 

But your voice has a physical response on him. But the horrified looks his siblings would send him when they would see the tent in his tewng from where his hard cock had slipped out of its sheath was always well worth the embarrassment. The feeling of your soft skin on his - arms wrapping around his neck for balance, his hands completely engulfing your warm thighs from where they wrapped tightly around his torso as far as they could. He’s spent many nights imagining them wrapped around his waist from the front instead.

You didn’t mind public displays of affection when you drank an entire swoasey of pxir and danced in front of him by the fire. The celebration had wound down, the clan members satisfied in celebrating the induction of The People who had passed their Iknimaya just a few hours ago. Only a few younger adults who seemed to have the same idea as you remained now, each couple splintering off to different parts of the campground to get their much needed privacy. Even Lo’ak has moved away, enamored by the pretty girl sitting on his lap, uncaring about the way his hands slide down to cup her ass and pull her closer. 

The fading glow of yellows and oranges look amazing against your skin, the steady crackle of the fire like a song all on its own as your hips move to the music only your own head and nature provides. Neteyam’s eyes are wide, excitement coursing through his veins as he watches your hips sway. You sway too, your body a bit unsteady from the drink still in your hand, but mostly it's your hips - the sensual swish back and forth, beads from your tewng (a gift from Kiri he suspects) clank together against each other and your thighs. Your pretty thighs, so soft he wants to wrap his entire hand around them, spread them open for him and see you like he’s always dreamed of. You’d be so wet, so sticky and drenched for him that he’d be able to just slide right in. You were made for him. Made to take him. He’d fit between your thighs so perfectly despite your size difference, he knows he would. 

His breath catches in his throat when you dance closer, small body seductive in the way it calls to him with your movements. You toss the swoasey to the side, the little liquid that was left pouring out and soaking into the ground beside you. Your hands find their way to his bent knees, heat filled eyes never leaving his as you push his legs apart so you can stand between them, searing him with their intensity even from behind the glass of your mask.

Your hands slide up his legs, tiny fingers creeping up the insides of his thighs and he can’t help the audible gulp that escapes him when he feels his cock nudge against his already wet slit, threatening to poke out at any moment. 

Great Mother, you’re so gorgeous. The most beautiful woman Eywa has ever created. You must have been created by her - no other god or goddess or being could ever have made anything more perfect and irresistible than Eywa herself. 

Surely, the Great Mother has made you for him. Just for him. 

“Why so nervous, Teyam?” You giggle, leaning up as far as you can towards his face while still keeping your teasing hands on his thighs, dangerously close to the now bulging fabric. “Tawtute got your tongue?”

“I–um–” He chokes out. He can’t breath, can’t breath with you so fucking close to him. He wants you so badly, wants to touch you so badly he feels like he might die if he doesn’t.

And then you're turning in the cage of his open thighs, back pressing against his front as you grab his shaking hand. There’s a satisfied smirk on your face as you drag his arm around you, the large appendage spanning your entire chest as he sprawls his fingers out across your front. His fingertips automatically curl around the curve of your breast while his palm caresses the other through your beaded top, his body subconsciously reacting to your own guidance. 

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode in his chest, breathing labored as his hard cock digs into your back.

“You can touch me,” You whisper, but his ears flick at your words and catch them loud and clear. “Want you to play with me.”

“Ha-fuck,” He groans, mouth falling open in silent awe as your top shifts underneath his hand and his finger grazes your hard nipple. Without thinking his hand squeezes your chest, gently but firm enough for you to gasp as he greedily gropes both breasts at once. 

He can smell you now, the mind dizzying scent of your arousal filling the air around you both as you gasp and giggle excitedly at his sudden action, both of your tiny hands reaching up to grip at his big one as you press him tighter against you. 

“Come on, Teyam,” You moan, moan, and he’s not even touching you yet. You turn your head to look at him, craning your neck as you stare up at him with wide, lust filled eyes. “Have some fun with me.”

That night he spent with you under the hypnotic glow of the fire will be forever burned into his mind. Every detail, every moan, every sigh, every praise and whine and plea spilling from your lips as he made love to you for the very first time is kept under the sacred lock and key of his heart - a memory he saved with Eywa back at the Spirit Tree the morning after so that he would never have the possibility of forgetting. 

The memory of your gasp as he pushed you down, beads flying across the mossy ground as he tore your clothes off like an animal and how the roughness of it all made your arousal even stronger. His eyes greedy as they took in their fill of your beautiful body splayed out in front of him like a prize before he covered you with his own. Your fingers teased along his bullet wound scar, tracing the raised line with careful fingers, and he thinks that maybe your loving touch will be enough to fully heal it. 

The place between your thighs feels like home, your tiny pussy swallowing him up and holding him close like the most perfect combination of love and safety. Your voice ringing in his ears, sweet and sensual as you whimper and moan telling him faster, Teyam, fuck me harder, oh god, and he whines in return, cock throbbing and embarrassingly close to bursting so fast already, and sending up thanks and prayers to the Great Mother for granting him this amazing moment with you.

It’s the blending of two hearts, two souls made for each other and coming together as one in a bond so powerful that no one can ever break it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t have a kuru, Neteyam can feel you in himself anyway - can feel you wrapping your tiny fingers around his brain and heart and very being, solidifying your bond together without the need for tsaheylu. 

And when you pull your mask off, holding your breath as the hiss of air escapes from the broken seal around your face - he can’t breathe either. The feel of your lips on his, soft and demanding as you kiss him passionately as he fucks you on the forest floor, makes him see stars.

He’s not sure where the change of behavior came from. One day you were affectionate, touchy and giving with your love, surrounding him with your scent and embrace, pussy wrapped around his cock in a hug so tight he thought you might never let go. He wouldn’t mind that, being buried in your heat forever, warm and loved until the day he dies. But the next morning the walls came up, the attitude started, and when he had gone to greet you with a blinding smile and an adoring ‘kaltxì, yawne,’ on his lips as he bent to kiss your cheek, you pulled back and pressed a firm hand against his belly to push him away. 

He thought that your coldness was nerves, just a reaction a human might have to the new soul bond you’ve experienced. Humans don’t mate for life like the Na’vi do, but you’re special, you’re his, and Eywa has blessed your union and made it so even though it should not be possible. Maybe you just don’t know how to handle it. It’s okay, he can be the patient and supportive mate you need.

But the coldness and hostility doesn’t stop, the days go by and the passage of time doesn’t make you calm down. You don’t throw your arms around him like he wants you to, don’t say those three words he longs to hear fall from your lips said with all the love and trust that you have in your little tawtute body. 

Instead, there’s almost anger, a sudden indifference that he can’t seem to place. Had he done something wrong? He doesn’t think so. So, he tries to do the best he can, be the best mate he can be for you during your obvious time of struggle. He’s always there for you, will always be there for you, providing support and bringing you fresh meat, dicing up your favorite fruits and making you pretty jewelry that he knows will look so beautiful on you if you ever just wear it. 

You don’t. You toss the jewelry to the side like it's nothing, you let the food rot exactly where he’s left it.  

You’re not a Na’vi, you don’t understand the implication of your crassness towards his gifts. You don’t see how your refusals break his heart. It’s okay - you’ll learn. Humans are . . . unusual creatures. It will just take a bit more time for you to warm up to the ways of The People.

But his optimism stings with each slight, each indifference you show towards him. Great Mother, you’re so mean to him. Always trying to run from him when he grabs at you, ripping your hand away from his whenever he tries to hold it. You’ve been hiding from him, your trips into the village getting less and less frequent and you don’t let him in when he tries to come to the lab to visit you. 

“You don’t even like being here,” You say when he tries. And you’re right. The stuffiness of the lab makes him tense, and it feels like he can sometimes feel the energy from the machines pressing up against his body. But when he’s with you he doesn’t care. You’re the only thing that matters to him, and when he’s with you, it’s like everything else just falls away. 

The sting from your smack is still on his hand, but he shakes it off as he reaches out to caress your arm instead. “Ma yawne, are you hungry? You should come to my hut. I’ll cook you a fi–”

“No,” You interrupt, shrugging him off of your arm. “I’m not hungry.”

“Oh,” He breathes, disappointment burrowing in his chest but he tries not to let it show even as his fingers reach out to graze against your wrist. “Well then maybe we can go on a walk? There’s a lake not too far from here that I’ve been wanting to show you. It’s beautiful.” Beautiful like you. “I know you’ll love it.”

“No, Neteyam,” You say again, pulling your wrist from his wandering fingers and crossing your arms across your chest. “I’m busy.”

“What are you doing? Maybe I could–”

“No,”

The clipped word rings in his ears. No, no, no, always no. He’s your mate, you shouldn’t have to tell him no. Where you go, he goes. Where he goes, you go. Together. Simple as that. And yet it’s still always no, no, no. You’re turning away from him without another word, walking away with strides he thinks are way too quick for a human, and he can’t help but wonder where you’re heading to in such a rush. 

“Okay,” He calls out, desperate for the conversation not to be over but knowing it will just upset you if he follows you. “I’ll come see you later, tìyawn. I swear it!”

You don’t even look back.

He hasn’t seen you in nearly a week and his patience is running thin. 

Your absence is killing him. 

Where are you? Why won’t you see him? He knows you have to be suffering too without him. Mated pairs aren’t meant to be without each other for so long and he feels like he’s been apart from you for an eternity. 

You stopped coming to the village. He’s been looking, desperately hoping that he’ll see you among the multitude of faces he sees every day. He wants to hear your voice so badly, wants to pull you into his arms and hold you there, safe and loved, while the warmth of your skin soaks into his. 

He wants to push you down again, cover you with his body as he presses you into his sleeping mat - your sleeping mat. Both of yours, together, the way it should be as he plows into your swollen cunt. His hut should be covered in your scent by now, not an inch of it left without your mark on it. 

It’s not, and his understanding for your trouble adjusting to the bond is quickly dissipating. 

He’s tried to come see you at the lab multiple times. A lot. Every day. The lab guys turn him away.

She’s busy. She’s sleeping. She’s too tired. She’s not feeling too well. 

If you're not feeling well, he should be in there to heal you. Give you comfort when you're at your weakest and motivation to get better. So he can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. If you’re tired, let him in so he can wrap his arms around you. His chest is sure to be a better pillow for you than any other one you would be laying on. He would be warm, chest moving with just the perfect amount of rise and fall to lull you into a restful sleep. Your beauty sleep - not that you need it. And if you’re busy . . . what’s the harm in him just being around you? He won’t bother you, but any time just existing in the same space as you is like a dream come true. 

He tries to be nice, tries to be a good person - these are his father’s friends, allies of the Omatikaya - and he’s never been one to act impulsively. But they are keeping you from him. You are his. His mate. 

By the looks on their faces, they know how lucky they are that they got away with only some vicious snarls and a pushed over lab desk. Keeping away someone’s mate should be punishable by death.

At least, that’s how Neteyam feels right about now.

He doesn’t like being angry, hates the disgusting feeling that he feels clawing relentlessly at his chest. But he’s frustrated and heartbroken at your self inflicted absence and the warriors he’s training are his unfortunate victims. He pushes them hard, way harder than he probably should. Two of them have already had to go see the Tsahìk for their injuries and most of them look just about ready to drop from exertion. The anger he lets out on them doesn’t seem to quell any of the feelings still boiling inside him.

But then he sees you and it’s like time stops. The anger and frustration flee his body in a rush of relief. You’re here. 

You’re hiding behind a tree just along the edge of the clearing. Why are you hiding? Maybe you’re trying to surprise him, stay out of sight until he’s done training so as to not distract him with your beauty. You would have. You’ve told him plenty of times that he has a staring problem. But he can’t help it. You’re just so breathtaking that he can’t help but want to stare at you all the time. You’re what he imagines Eywa incarnate to look like - a beauty so alluring and otherworldly that he just can’t bear to tear his eyes away. 

The training session is just about done. He releases a majority of the warriors for the day and there’s only a few stragglers that need a few minutes of one-on-one training before he can send them on their way too. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying to them, letting muscle memory and repetition help him drag these last few minutes along as quickly as possible before he’s able to run over to you. He’s already decided that he’s going to take you out tonight. A date night, just like his father and mother have. It’s a time where you both can get away from the hustle and bustle of village and lab life and just be with each other. You clearly need it and he’s so desperate to spend time with you that he’s just about ready to kidnap you from your duties just so he can get a moment of peace just to stare at your gorgeous, unmasked face more. 

Maybe do some other stuff too. Hopefully. 

His heart hasn’t been the only needy thing of his without you. 

The last warrior he’s with is really pushing his luck. How hard is it to switch a knife from a bladed upward position to a downward facing position with just one hand? It’s a simple wrist movement to perfect a move that might save your life one day and this skxawng keeps. dropping. the. knife. Neteyam’s seemingly endless patience is gone. He dismisses the warrior, words much too harsh to be considered professional but he doesn’t care. His mate is waiting for him and he doesn’t want to waste any more time. 

He turns back to head to where you are, a giddy smile pulling at his lips, mood immediately flipping at the thought of finally seeing you, talking to you, holding you. 

Except when he does it’s like he’s being doused with freezing water. 

Another one of his warrior trainees, Oäpon, is standing in front of you and Neteyam can see how he’s purposefully bulging his muscles a little more to make them seem bigger - an action male Na’vi do when trying to attract a mate. Neteyam wants to rip those muscles out of his worthless body. He should be disgusted with himself with how fast his hand twitches towards the knife on his hip, ready to give no thoughts and just act on his emotions. He’s not impulsive, he’s not. But for once in his life he feels like he might actually kill one of his own clan members. 

Would the Great Mother desert him if he did?

But you catch his attention again, the movement of your small step closer to the other man dragging his furious gaze back to you. Your gorgeous eyes aren’t on Neteyam like they should be, but instead on Oäpon in return. You’re smiling at him, grinning so wide that surely it's fake because you’ve never smiled at him like that before. Oäpon lifts his hand and there’s a deep purple flower between his fingers. The flower finds its way behind your ear and all Neteyam sees is red. 

He’s across the clearing in a second, roaring snarls ripping from his chest as he tears the flower from behind your ear. He can hear Oäpon start to talk, to question what the fuck he’s doing, but the other man’s words are cut off with a pained gasp as he’s kicked to the ground and then he’s shock silent, fear written all over his face as he stares in horror at his kuru and the knife held in Neteyam’s inescapable grip. 

“Don’t! Please, don’t,” Oäpon begs, voice shaking as he struggles to force the words out. “Great Mother, help! Please, don’t!”

“Neteyam, stop!” You yell, tiny fists beating at Netayam’s back, but he barely even feels them. 

“She is mine!” Neteyam growls. “Mine. My mate. You do not touch her!”

“I didn’t know,” Oäpon whimpers. “I didn’t know. Please! I swear!”

He wants to do it, wants to slice through the braid so badly. He doesn’t deserve to have it. Kurus are sacred, the ability to connect to Eywa and her creatures is sacred. Attempting to defile the bond between a mated pair is nearly unheard of. Your screams for him to stop are just making the desire worse. You’re protecting him?! Protecting the thing that was trying to . . . no. No, no, no. He deserves to have it cut off, deserves to die.

Oäpon should kiss his feet in thanks for the mercy Neteyam shows by releasing him. 

“I don’t ever want to see you near her again,” Neteyam shouts. Oäpon doesn’t respond, too busy scrambling away and darting across the clearing, but Neteyam knows he’s heard him. 

“You’re a monster!” You scream, another fist coming down to hit at his back. “How could you do that to him?”

Your hits don’t stop and even through his rage he’s trying to be gentle with you. He catches your flying fists in one of his hands, holding them tight as he crouches in front of you trying to get on your level.

“Ma yawne, did he hurt you?” 

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him in disbelief. “Did he hurt me? Are you kidding me?"

Neteyam’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You fucking–” You screech, Neteyam’s ears pinning against his skull from the high pitched, angry sound. “You–you–I–ARGH!”

You're so frustrated, so upset you can’t even speak properly. Maybe you are hurt - Neteyam’s eyes scan your body for injury, eyes lingering on the area around your ear where the flower had been. The flower now lays forgotten at your feet, crushed and ruined from his angry grip, and Neteyam can’t find any source of injury that might be causing your upset.

“You don’t have to worry,” Neteyam says, cupping your cheek with his free hand. “He won’t bother you anymore, I swear it.”

You jerk away from his touch. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Nothing is wrong?”

“No,” You shake your head, wrists still trying to twist out of his grip. “No, there’s something wrong with you. Something is seriously wrong with you,”

“You are upset, tìyawn. Tell me what I can–”

“Don’t call me that!” You scream, nose scrunching with the effort. “Stop calling me that!”

“Oh,” Neteyam’s swishing tail droops in disappointment. “I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t know you didn’t like the name. I only meant to use it to show my love for you as my mate but I can–”

“We aren’t mates, Neteyam!” The words stab like a knife through his heart and his hand loosens around your wrists in shock enough for you to pull them out of his grasp. “We fucked once. A hookup, Neteyam. Sex, that’s it.”

“No,” He whispers. 

Why are you saying this? How could you say this? He was there! He remembers that night more clearly than any other day of his life. You love him. He feels it, feels it with every fiber of his being. You let him into your body, wrapped him tight inside you like a promise that you would never let him go - like he would never have to be alone ever again. You caressed his bullet scar, and he remembers the feel of your gentle fingers silently mourning for it and for all he’s had to suffer. He remembers thinking that being there with you in that moment was worth every other hardship he has to endure. He can take on anything with you at his side. 

“No,” He says again, disbelief coloring his tone. “How can you say that? We are mates! You’re mine!”

“No, we aren’t,”

“We are! I love you, y/n! Oel ngati kam–”

“We are not mated, Neteyam! We fucked. Mindless, hot, means-to-an-end-to-get-off sex. That’s it! Get that through your thick skull,”

He’s watching you as if in slow motion. You turn, stomping away from him as you start to head back into the forest and his brain feels like it’s going a million miles an hour. You’re mates. You are. You have to be - there’s no other way to explain the way he feels about you. The love and utter devotion he has for you. The need to be near you always - looking in your eyes, touching your skin, hearing your voice and the way you’ve always sounded so sweet saying his name. Eywa has blessed your union and he doesn't understand why you don’t feel the same way. Can’t you feel the same inescapable pull that he does? How your soul is tied to his in a way that surpasses even that of tsaheylu?

He reaches out to grab you before you get too far, fingers wrapping around your upper arm. Your own arm flies out around you and the sharp sound echoes through the forest and his sensitive ears before the pain registers on his cheek. 

He’s never seen your eyes so wide before, crazed and panicked as you stare back into his equally shocked amber ones. Your hand is shaking, still raised in the follow through of the slap. The force of your smack is still heating up his cheek, and if he can feel it as much as he is now, he’s sure your hand is probably tingling. 

Any other time he would check you for injuries. You’re so much more fragile than him - you could really hurt yourself if you’re not careful. But you just hit him. Your mate. The man that loves you more than anything. He’s frozen, body cold and not knowing how to react. 

Don’t call me that.

Anger floods through him again. This was Oäpon’s fault. He tricked you, seduced you somehow - out from right under Neteyam’s nose. He should have killed him. 

We are not mated.

You rip your arm out of his grip, wide eyes locked on him as he straightens his body, unfurling out of his crouched position as he rises to his full height. The shadow his body creates over you sends something primal through him. The darkened image of him completely overtaking your tiny figure makes him hungry. Possessive. 

Just sex, Neteyam. That’s it.

He won’t let that worthless skxawng corrupt you anymore. You’re the love of his life, his tanhì. You’re just confused. You’re not thinking clearly. 

You don’t mean it. 

He feels like if he concentrates hard enough, he can hear the sound of your heart racing. Or maybe it's his own, the frantic thump thump thump thump thump of his heart pumping rushing blood into his ears and making him feel like there’s static in his brain. 

When you turn to run, he’s not even shocked. His pupils dilate until there’s barely any color left, predatory gaze marked onto your back as you sprint into the dense Pandoran forest. Everything is so clear to him now. You’re testing him, wanting to see how loyal he is and how far he’ll go to keep you. You’re a beautiful woman, of course you’d have options. But you chose him for a reason, and now you want him to chase you - to prove himself a strong and worthy mate.

You want to play hard to get? Fine. He’ll play. 

He’s a natural hunter, an apex predator - and you, tiny human, have just become his prey. 

It might be fun to hunt you again - sometime in the future when this is all behind you. He’d be sure to make it as fair for you as possible: give you a head start, maybe allow you to rub some mud on your skin to hide your scent just to drag out the game a little longer, give you ample time and resources to find a good hiding spot where you can sit and try to listen with your not that great human hearing for any sign that he’s creeping up on your position. He’d wrap his arms around your waist when he inevitably finds you, smug grin tugging at his lips when your giggled shrieks pierce his eardrums as he pulls you from your oh so clever hiding spot. And then, he’d claim his prize, tearing your clothes from your body right there wherever he found you and fucking you until your giggly shrieking turns into blissful moaning. 

This isn’t fun. It’s not a game. And your headstart is dwindling rapidly. You’re racing through the forest, running as fast as your feet will carry you. He can hear your heavy breaths, the sound of the ground crunching under your clumsy feet. He can smell you, the scent you’re leaving behind in your rush is a direct trail back to you for him to follow. 

He doesn’t need it. He never lost sight of you. 

One of his strides equal close to four of yours, and he covers ground quickly as he closes in on you. He catches you only a little further into the forest than where the chase started and you scream as he tackles you to the ground, the force of his momentum completely knocking you both off your feet. He doesn’t let you touch the ground on the fall, twisting his body enough to take the brunt of the impact. The action still leaves you breathless, dazed for a moment before seeming to come back to yourself and struggling to get off from on top of him.

His hold around your waist is secure and he uses the anchor he has around your waist to throw you on to the ground beside him before climbing on top of you and pinning both of your hands above your head with one of his. 

“Get off me!” You scream, body struggling underneath him, hands pulling in his unrelenting grip as you try to get free, but you can barely move under his weight. “Get off me, Neteyam! Get off, get off, get o–”

His free hand latches around your throat, your words dying on your tongue as his fingers dig into the sides of your neck. 

“Quiet!” He hisses, baring his fangs. “Be quiet!”

The aggressive display makes a small whimper rip from your throat and he can feel the vibrations tickle under his palm. You’re not quiet though, you never stay quiet - ever the talker that you are. You’d talk his ear off if you could. The only time you’ve ever stayed quiet is when you avoided him, and he refuses to let that happen again. 

“Neteyam, please,” You whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re scaring me. Let’s just relax and talk about thi–”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” He growls. “You’ve said enough already, don’t you think?”

He releases your hands, grip on your throat loosening and moving down slightly until it's just a singular hand pressed against your chest to keep you pinned. Your hands immediately latch onto the large hand, one of your own clutching the back while the other curls around one of his long fingers. He feels how you pull at it, trying to get it off of you - and he knows how much harder you could be trying right now if you wanted to. 

He lowers his face to yours, inches away so that his breath fans across your skin as he speaks. “You like to talk, but you don’t like words. You’ve made that clear. My words mean nothing to you.” He can feel how your quick breathing puffs against his face too, the warm air caressing his cheeks. “You need actions - a visual representation of my devotion to you. I see that now.”

In a flash, his hands are balling into her t-shirt, pulling roughly in either direction and the thin material gives easily under the pressure. You gasp as he rips your shirt down the middle, the torn fabric falling on either side of your body as he does the same with your bra with a quick snap of his wrist. 

“What are you doing?!” You shout, but you can’t fool him now. He’s grown tired of your games and your body can’t lie to him. 

“Don’t worry, yawne. I’ll give you what you need,”

The sound of ripping material echoes through the otherwise peaceful forest. Your shorts require just a bit more force to tear, but it’s barely a percentage of his full strength so the fabric comes apart at the seams easily leaving the ruined bottoms still around your waist and thighs, but a large opening right at your center. A rumble of satisfaction builds in his chest when he smells you, the first scent of your arousal permeating the air around you. You gasp when he rips your panties too, leaving nothing left of the light blue material but the thin elastic around your limbs and hips. 

His mouth waters at the sight of your pretty pussy, bare and tempting and already getting so wet for him. 

“Fuck,” You whimper, arms splayed out beside you, fingers gripping into the moss covered ground. 

“You like it when I’m rough, huh?” Neteyam teases. “When I’m demanding and just take what I want from you?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the way he can see your pussy’s responding clench is damning to your denial. 

“I remember now,” Neteyam’s hand slides down your thigh and caresses your calf, long fingers wrapping around your leg as he presses a nipping kiss to your ankle just above your sock. “You loved how I shoved you down on the ground that night. It made you gush in your pretty little tewng, didn’t it?”

“S-shut up,”

“Hm, my muntxate likes being handled roughly, doesn’t she?”

Your response is a shocked squeal when he snatches your hips, hauling you up off the forest floor, the quick snapping of moss ripping from the ground as you’re abruptly pulled upwards. Your entire world is turned upside down as Neteyam dangles you like prey in front of him. He throws your legs over his shoulders and wraps a secure arm around your stomach to hold your lower back to his chest. The other hand holds onto your thigh to make sure to keep you spread before him as if you had any chance to wiggle away. 

A choked sob rips from your throat as your hands reach for the ground, blood rushing to your head as your fingers stretch as far as they can trying to get leverage and hold yourself up. Your fingertips only just barely graze the soft green. 

Neteyam groans as he enjoys the sight right in front of his face. You’re spread open for him, pussy perfectly framed by the destroyed fabric - dripping and glistening in want against the dimming sunlight despite yourself. He can see how you subconsciously contract and clench it, hole practically begging him to fill it with his tongue. He wants to bury his face in it, suffocate on your smell and taste until it’s all he can think about. 

So he does. 

He digs his face between your legs, tongue lapping at your folds like a man starved. He is. He didn’t get to do this your first time. It was too fast, too desperate. He couldn’t control himself with you. Everything about you calls to him like a siren, luring him in with your beauty and light. You dragged him down on top of you that night. You were already open, you told him - had fucked yourself with that fake cock he had found hidden in your drawers during an impromptu hangout in your bedroom at the lab. You still felt suffocatingly tight when he pushed in, but he had been grateful that he didn’t have to wait.

He had waited so long for the chance to be inside you that he felt like if he had waited another second without you he would have exploded. 

Your back arches as he licks up your slit, moaning loudly as his textured tongue slides across your clit. 

“Oh my god,” You gasp out, hands forgoing reaching for the ground and finding purchase on his thighs instead. “Neteyam, f-fuck,”

He hums in response, his tongue targeting the sensitive bundle of nerves, sliding and flicking relentlessly against the small bud as your moans and gasps get louder and louder. Your sounds are driving him crazy, the taste of you on his tongue setting every one of his nerves on fire. His cock is already hard, already working its way past his wet slit and tenting in his tewng. You taste so good, so perfect for him. He wonders what it feels like for you, how good it must feel for you to be writhing in his grip now, so vocal for him in your pleasure that your voice is already starting to sound a bit raspy from use. He bets his tongue feels better than any other man you’ve ever tried, the texture of it foreign and unique and unlike anything else you’ve ever had before. 

It will be the same way for him too, he’s sure. He’s dreamed about it, fantasized and jerked off to the thought of your tongue, soft and silky, running up and down his cock. You’d torture him with it, be teasing and delicate in your licks, alternating between those featherlight, barely there teases against his lavender tip and firmer strokes down the base of his cock. 

Your nails are digging into the meat of his thighs as he wraps his lips around your clit, panting breaths telling him yes, right there, Teyam, fuck, fuck, yes as your hips try to hump against his face. You’re right there, right on the edge, ready to fall over it with just a little bit more.

But he stops, reveling in your frustrated groan as he pulls his mouth away from your soaked core. His intense golden eyes meet yours when your head forces its way up, raspy voice whining a desperate ‘why’ as you feel your orgasm slipping away from you. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” He demands. He needs to hear you say it. 

“Teyam…” 

He can’t bear to hear you deny him again. Can’t handle hearing you say the words that make him feel like his heart has been dunked in acid.

His lips latch onto your clit again, sucking harshly at the tiny bud and your words cut off with a gasp. He works you back up, your head falling back as he nips at your clit with his sharp teeth before licking down your slit to circle your entrance. You’re so tight, so so so tight around his tongue as he pushes it in. You clench around the wet muscle and then somehow clench even tighter when the hand gripping your thigh reaches over to rub firm circles on your clit.

“Teyam, oh god, Neteyam, please!” You beg, thighs squeezing his head as they try to force themselves closed. “I’m gonna cum. Please,”

You wail as he pulls his mouth away again, your hole clenching around nothing as your orgasm dissipates again. 

“Say it,” He feels your whole body shiver as his words breathe hot air on your sensitive cunt. “You’re mine. Say it, y/n,”

You sob, frustration evident in every sound and twitch your body makes. You’re trying to lift your head again, looking up at him from your spot dangling below him like a puppet, and he wonders if all the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is getting to you. 

“Say it,” He repeats and then digs back in, the flat of his tongue roughly swiping over your clit before latching onto it again.

Your legs kick as he works you up again, overstimulated pussy throbbing as he plays you like an instrument he’s known for years. His cock is throbbing too, desperate to be released from the confines of his tewng and shown some attention. He wants so badly to push inside your soaking hole and feel how it’ll grip his cock within its slick walls. 

“Neteyam, please!” You cry, and he knows you’re so close, right there again as he hurdles you back towards that just out of reach edge. He doesn’t stop the suction of his mouth. You’ll say it, he knows you will. You’ll say it because if you don’t, you won’t get to cum. He’ll keep you here, upside down in his unrelenting hold until you pass out from exhaustion before he’s going to let you go without saying it. 

You’re a stubborn brat. He can see as he looks down your hanging body that you’re biting your lip. You want to say it - you’re just being stubborn. He sucks harder on the swollen bud, free hand smacking your hip and your asscheek just hard enough to make you cry and gush further on his tongue, the remaining remnants of your clothes doing very little to muffle the sting. 

“Okay!” You yell. “Okay, okay, Neteyam! I’ll say it! I’m yours! Please, please let me cum!”

The words make Neteyam’s chest tighten. Finally. Finally, you’ve admitted it, and the excitement from the admission urges him to lick you faster. He’s sloppy and greedy as he eats you out, overeager and face wet to the point of dripping as he devours you for all you have. You cum on his tongue with a choked scream, hands reaching up to grab desperately at his arm encircling your waist, nails digging into the cerulean flesh as your back arches and your thighs clench tightly around his head. 

He swallows everything you offer him, lapping up your juices like his favorite most treasured treat, before placing a protective hand on your back to steady you as he lowers you back down to safety.

“Mawey, yawne,” Neteyam coos, gently brushing away a few rogue pieces of moss stuck to your sweaty forehead. You’re still panting, exhaustion creeping over you as your eyes glaze over and threaten to close. The oxygen tube had unhooked from around your ear at some point during your experience upside down. Neteyam guides it back around your ear with careful fingers. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Keep being a good girl while I fuck you, yes?”

Your eyes widen at the mention of fucking, shaking your head slightly even as the full bodied shivers of the orgasm’s aftershocks continue to wrack your body. “N-no, Teyam. C-can’t take i-it.”

Neteyam smiles, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss against your lips. The feel of your lips on his is almost enough to make him cum. He’s so worked up already, so high off the taste of your cunt on his tongue that all it takes is the loving press of your lips on his and he’s a second away from exploding in his tewng and ruining the fun. 

“Yes, you can,” He says against your lips, his sharp teeth digging into your plush bottom lip just to hear you whine. 

Last time he fucked you, he took you from the front. It was love making, a bonding of two souls coming together as one - a spiritual experience filled with panting breaths, eye contact, and the passionate coupling that comes with mating with the one your heart belongs to. 

You don’t deserve that right now, not with the way you’ve hurt him - made him work for the love that should have been given freely. The things you said can’t just be forgotten. You need him to prove his worthiness to you? Prove his loyalty? Then fine, he’ll do that by giving you exactly what you deserve.

You yelp when he flips you over on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips and hauling them up so your ass is in the air and on display for him. The remaining fabric of your shorts still cover nearly half of your ass, but the little coverage does nothing to diminish the amazing view. You try to push yourself up with your arms, but Neteyam is quick to shove you back down with a hand on the back of your neck. 

“No, no, tìyawn,” He says, running a large hand over your exposed ass, his fingers teasing along the creamy slit of your pussy. “You said you’re mine, so let me see what’s mine.”

His teasing fingers find your hole and his teeth dig into his lower lip when he sees your thigh start trembling as he circles your entrance with the pad of his finger. You like it rough, he has to remind himself. You’re a human, so delicate compared to him that he naturally wants to be gentle with you. But that got him nowhere, it got him ignored. You respond to roughness, passion, him taking charge - so he doesn’t give you any warning before he’s plunging two long fingers inside you all the way to the knuckle.

You scream, slick walls squeezing around his fingers, your own hands once again ripping at the moss below you. The scream is agonized, oversensitive and pained from your earlier edging and orgasm. Your thighs are shaking, desperate sobs erupting from your throat. But the way you’re pushing back against him, rocking back against his invading fingers trying to get them deeper inside you tell him everything he needs to know. 

“Look at you,” He coos. His fingers start up a steady rhythm, thrusting inside you with purpose as he stretches you open. “Such a little whore for me, aren’t you?”

Your moans are muffled against the ground, cheek pressed firmly against the moss from his hand pinning you down by his neck. You ignore his question, too lost in trying to push back against his hand and make him fuck you faster - so he rips his fingers from your gripping cunt, drops of your wetness flying from the force of his retreat, and his large hand lands harshly on your backside. 

You howl at the smack, the sound of the slap against direct skin this time cracks through the forest like a gunshot. 

“I asked if you’re my whore,” Neteyam repeats. It’s not as romantic as ‘I’m yours’, but still just as important. 

“Yes, Teyam,” You whine. “I’m your whore.”

“Just for me, right? Only my whore,” Silence again, but your hips are still wiggling and searching for his fingers, so he rewards your silence with another sharp smack. “Say it, yawne,”

“Fuck!” You cry, ass feeling like it's on fire even as more of your slick drips down your thighs. “Yes, yes! Only for you, Teyam. Only for you,”

“Good girl,” Neteyam purrs, and you’re rewarded this time with his fingers sliding back inside your aching pussy. 

He stretches you out on those two fingers, alternating between scissoring them inside you and curling them to rub at that special spongy spot that makes you squeal and see stars. He contemplates adding a third, but decides that he wants to finish stretching you out on his cock instead. 

This time when you cum, it's less of a scream and more of a deep guttural groan that comes from deep inside you. It’s wetter than he expects it to be when you squeeze around his fingers, and the sight of your slick dripping from your mound onto the forest floor beneath you makes him feel absolutely feral. 

He lets go of the back of your neck and pulls his fingers from your abused cunt. The wet fingers work frantically at the knots on his tewng and he feels like he can’t get the fucking thing off fast enough. When the knots come undone and the tan material flutters to the ground, he breathes a sigh of relief, thick needy cock springing from its confines to slap against his belly. 

When he focuses back on you, your exhausted body is already trying to curl in a ball, eyes threatening to close as sleep calls to you. No, Neteyam thinks. He’s not done with you yet.

He flips you back on your stomach, pulling your hips back up high so they’re flush with his. You both groan as he rubs his hard cock between your folds, the tip nudging at your swollen clit. Fuck, you feel so good, pussy feeling like silk against his aching length. His eyes are locked onto where he’s lining his head with your entrance, watching in awe as he nudges himself forward, your greedy hole welcoming him in like you’ve been doing this forever. He can’t control his sounds, grunts and moans of pleasure echoing loudly through the trees as he sinks himself inside your slick walls. You’re so tight, even with the amount he’s stretched you out already you’re still so tight. But you stretch around him like you were made for him, made to take his cock into your depths - like your insides already know the exact shape of him and welcome him back into their warm embrace.

You whimper as he fills you up, back arching and hands clawing at the ground like you’re both trying to get away from him and closer to him at the same time. 

“I fucked you so good, didn’t I?” He gunts, pulling halfway out of your gripping pussy before slamming back in, relishing in the tortured moan it pulls from you. “That night by the fire. Made you cum so many times, over and over again until you were so cock drunk you couldn’t speak.”

He pulls out again, just a little further this time before thrusting back in. He does it again, and again, the rhythm hard and unforgiving and he pulls your hips closer to his. In the back of his mind he fears that he’s being too mean, too rough, but your gasping hiccups and blissed out sighs contain any worry. This is as much for him as it is for you anyway. He’s allowed to be selfish. 

“You’re always so talkative,” He pants. “Where’s that pretty voice now, huh? You were so talkative that night, just endless pleas of my name falling from your gorgeous lips. Like music to my ears. I wanna hear it again. Please, yawne?”

“Mmh, please,” You whine. “Please, Teyam,”

“Please what?”

“Faster,” You beg. “Fuck me faster,”

Who is he to deny such a sweet and pretty thing?

He leans forward, body curling over yours to cover you completely, one of his hands grabbing yours and linking your fingers together as he presses them both against the ground. His other hand is still on your hip, using it as leverage as he fucks your puffy pussy faster, the tip of his cock barreling against your cervix with each snap of his hips. 

He can feel the knot on the base of his cock swelling, the large ball of tissue nudging at your entrance with each thrust. The instinct driven part of him urges him to push harder against you, to force the knot against your tight hole to see if it will fit. 

He didn’t knot you that night, not wanting to risk hurting you or getting you pregnant so fast with such a new relationship. He came inside you with his fist wrapped tightly around his knot instead. Na’vi bonds are forever. Human bonds . . . now he’s not so sure. He’s not willing to risk it anymore. He’s going to bond with you in every way he knows how. 

When he feels his orgasm creep up his spine, he lets instinct take over. His grip on your hip tightens, thrusts halting as he presses the enlarged ball against your soaked entrance. 

You gasp, whimpering as his knot stretches you more. “Oh god, wait, wait,”

But it's too late. With another determined shove, the knot pops inside you and he has you trapped, locked on his cock until time decides to free you. 

“Neteyam, i-it’s too b-big,” You whine, shock evident in your voice. “Hmh, so full,”

Neteyam plants soothing kisses on the back of your head and neck, the hand on your hip smoothing around your belly to caress the large bulge of the outline of his cock in your stomach. “I know, tìyawn. I know. It’s so much, but you’re doing so well. Just a little more for me, okay?”

He can’t thrust now, can't even so much as pull out an inch now that he’s locked inside you. So, he makes you do the work. He keeps one hand on the bulge in your tummy, the other hand coming down to rub relentlessly at your throbbing clit. The stimulation makes you keen, pussy clenching and tightening around him and working his aching length with your wet walls. 

His fingers on your clit are your undoing. He barely hears any noise from you as your orgasm hits, but this time he’s able to see the side of your face as you come undone. Your eyes roll back into your head, mouth opening in a silent scream, but it's like all the breath has been stolen from your lungs. Your body tenses, muscles shaking through the overwhelming pleasure, and he feels as much as he hears how you gush and squirt all over his teasing digits and the ground below you. 

He moans at the sight, the feel of your pussy clenching around his length and the wetness from your orgasm on his fingers and cock makes him tip over the edge. His orgasm crashes through him, tearing him apart as he spills himself inside you. His cum paints your walls, and his knot makes sure to keep every single drop of it inside you. 

Neteyam collapses next to you, shaking as the aftershocks roll through him, and pulls your limp body safely against his. It will be at least an hour before the knot’s swelling goes down enough before he’s able to slip out. You let out a moan of pain as the knot pulls at your entrance as he adjusts you, but he sushes you.

“Relax, ma yawne. I’ll take care of you.” He coos. “Oel ngati kameie,”

You don’t say it back. You don’t even hear him, already dead to the world as your exhaustion finally catches up with you. 

It’s okay. He knows in his heart that one day soon, you’ll say it back.

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @minnory @localjasmine @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @vampirefilmlover @quicktosimp (cause you said you liked yanderes)

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[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:28」 — k.soonyoung

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➮ weretiger!Soonyoung × fem!Reader wc: 3.3k summary: Normally during his heat, Soonyoung stays as far away from his girlfriend as he can for fear of scaring her away but he can’t help himself when she comes by to drop some soup off seeing as he told her he’s sick. genres/themes/au: smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food consumption, cat anatomy; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: sorry for skipping two days in a row. I will be tacking those on at the end of Kinktober just like the others I missed so don’t worry. Jisung’s I just lost track of time and Christian’s fell on game day and I didn’t even realize it. I’ll get them done and added to the end of Kinktober, I promise lol anyway, here is our resident cult leader, Soonie and his tiger agenda. Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), heat cycles, rough sex, unprotected sex (just don’t do this. Use protection lol), non-human genitalia (like yunho, Soon’s got a barbed d!ck because cat. Don’t like it, don’t read it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idc), scent marking (f receiving), biting (f receiving), use of pet names (hers: baby, kitten, beautiful, etc.; his: babe, Soonie, baby, etc.), I think i got all of them but let me know if I missed any! kinks: heat cycles + rough sex dialogue prompt: ❛❛ You heard me. Take. It. Off. Now. ❜❜

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“Kwon Soonyoung, I know you're home! Let me in, damn it!”

Soonyoung raised his head as he sat with his back against the door. He'd lost track of how long he'd been sitting there while you stood outside his apartment door, knocking, ringing the bell, demanding to be let in. He'd lost track of how many times he'd almost given.

Almost.

It's not that he didn't want to see you, he did. He wanted to see you more than anything, but he knew if he let you into his apartment, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from jumping you. Especially now that he could smell you.

It was always a rough time for him when he went into heat. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't just female animals that went into heat, males also went into heat too and as a weretiger, Soonyoung was no exception. He'd spent most of his formative years dealing with it on his own and for a long time, he avoided being intimate with anyone because of the weird physiological changes to his body.

Unlike many werecreatures, Soonyoung's curse was a generational one and he was not bitten or scratched. His was passed from father to son and inherited by blood. The changes lay dormant until a boy started to go through puberty. By the time he was 18, Soonyoung had gone through just under two hundred and thirty full moon transformations.

And now, at twenty eight years of age, he'd been through over three hundred and fifty transformations. His heat always came the week leading up to the full moon. He was always consumed with an insatiable need to fuck something and he was very good at holding himself back.

Until you came along.

The sweet, caring, and unsuspecting girl who lived across the courtyard from him in the same apartment as him but on the other side of the complex. From his balcony, Soonyoung could see your balcony and the windows that looked into your apartment. 

You kept an assortment of potted plants on your balcony and had installed some sort of netting or mesh to sort of close in the area which made sense because as soon as it went up, he saw an orange tabby cat lounging at the top of a cat tree.

Know you liked cats gave Soonyoung the drive to talk to you the next time he saw you in the courtyard with what he thought was little success but his poorly executed joke still managed to make you laugh and get him your number.

From then on, he was hooked and the moment you invited him over for dinner, he was a goner. One date turned into two and then three and soon, he had the privilege of calling you his girlfriend.

You both maintained separate spaces in the building and he found it kind of cute, his girlfriend living across the courtyard from him. Your cats, which he learned there were actually two, were the sweetest creatures on earth and absolutely adored him. The girl, a white one with orange markings and long fur, was named Pad Thai and the boy, the short hair orange tabby, was named Cheezit. 

Soonyoung had taken to calling them his children and joked with his friends that you had full custody and he got visitations. It was a joke you took in stride and accepted fully, sending silly videos of the cats pretending to use your phone and making silly voices for them, speaking to their dad. It often made his day all that much brighter when he couldn’t come visit you.

Soonyoung had yet to tell you about his condition, only mentioning that he wasn’t like most guys, urging that he wasn’t just saying that and that it was a thousand percent true. He just hadn’t found the right time to tell you exactly how different he was. How does one even go about telling their partner that they’re a weretiger?

It was a conversation Soonyoung knew needed to happen but it just hadn’t yet. Which is why he was stuck in this situation now with you pounding on the door to be let in.

Soonyoung had started telling you that his once a month disappearance was just him coming down with something. He started with the usual excuses, the flu, the cold, stomach flu, even covid but he was starting to run out of excuses. He also hated using illness as an excuse because your immediate response was to offer to bring him medicine and food, usually in the form of soup, stew, or broth. He always gave the same excuse for not opening the door.

He didn’t want to get you sick.

At first, you took it as your boyfriend being cautious and caring but soon, you started to get suspicious and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade much longer. He was going to have to come clean and tell you the truth much sooner rather than later.

A conversation he had been dreading ever since asking you to be his girlfriend.

The wood behind him shook as another series of loud knocks rang out, no doubt you beating your fist against the door. “Kwon Soonyoung!” you shouted. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, as if it might make you leave faster. He felt awful. He hated ignoring you but in his mind, it was for the best when he was in heat. He couldn’t risk scaring you off and losing you.

Another series of knocks shook the door, which was surprising given your somewhat smaller stature. For one so little, you sure were strong. And loud. “Kwon Soonyoung! If you do not open this door right now, we are done!” 

Soonyoung’s eyes opened quickly and he turned his head to look back at the door. ‘She wouldn’t…’ he thought to himself. “I mean it, Soonyoung! If you don’t open this door, consider us through!” Something in your tone made him scramble up to his feet, hastily pulling at the locks separating you from him. He could tell you weren’t kidding.

He kept the chain on, opening the door only a few inches as he looked out into the hall at you. He held his breath as he took in your frame. You’d showered recently, he could smell the scent of your shampoo and body wash, mixing with your natural scent and making his cock twitch in his pants.

On your face was a furious expression and his heart sank immediately. If he had cat ears, this is where they would flatten back against his head in fear. You were terrifying when you were mad. He’d never been on the receiving end of your anger before nor had he really seen it in action.

“H-hey,” he stammered. His eyes dipped down to see the thermos in your hand that no doubt held a homemade soup, stew, or broth of some kind but he couldn’t be sure with how tightly the lid was screwed on nor with how overpowering your scent was.

“Don’t you hey me,” you said, your eyes narrowing at him. “Open the door and let me in.” Soonyoung grimaced. He wanted more than anything to let you in but he knew if he did, there was no telling how he’d react to having you so close when he was aching, burning, to be touched. It wasn’t a good idea on many levels.

“I don’t wanna get you sick,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. You scoffed, placing a hand on your hip and looking every bit the sassy girlfriend he knew and loved. “Don’t try that bullshit with me,” you snapped. “I know you aren’t sick,” you added. Soonyoung’s eyes widened as he looked up from the thermos in your hand to meet your hardened gaze. “Wh-what?” he breathed. 

“I spoke to Jihoon,” you started to explain. “He told me the truth.” Soonyoung’s stomach sank as the realization that his best friend had outed him to you. ‘Well fuck,’ he thought. It looked like he was going to have to have a talk with Jihoon.

“So let me in. We need to talk.” Soonyoung sighed and closed the door, undoing the chain before pulling the door open for you to enter his apartment. He shut the door behind you and prepared for the storm.

You didn’t unload on him immediately, instead sliding your shoes off and walking towards the kitchen where you set the thermos down. He followed, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched you move around his kitchen, pulling out a bowl and a spoon from their resting places.

You placed the bowl down next to the thermos and unscrewed the lid silently, pouring out a very hearty looking stew. It smelled amazing, the scent of meat, herbs, and potatoes invading his senses. “Jihoon said you aren’t exactly sick. Just that during this time, you don’t feel well,” you said as you finished pouring the hot stew into the bowl, setting the thermos down and pushing the bowl towards your boyfriend, holding out the spoon.

Soonyoung glanced at the spoon and the bowl before looking at you. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” you said leaning over the counter. Soonyoung’s eyes dipped down to your chest, the curve of your breast visible down your shirt from where he stood. “You’re going to take the damn spoon and eat while I talk. Sound good?” 

Soonyoung nodded, moving to sit at the kitchen island and grabbing the spoon from your hand. The moment your skin met, electricity and heat spread throughout his body, the urge to pounce on you from across the counter trying to take the reins but he managed to push it down and simply started eating.

You watched him take a few bites before speaking.

“I know you’re a weretiger,” you said softly, drawing his attention as he looked up at you, his mouth full of bits of beef and potatoes. “Jihoon told me everything. I will admit I’m a little shocked you didn’t tell me all of this but I can’t imagine it’s an easy subject to bring up so I’ll give you a pass there,” you explained. “That being said, I wish you would have just told me the truth. Did you think I would judge you? Did you think I would leave or break up with you?” 

Soonyoung swallowed the food in his mouth before speaking. “I didn’t know what to expect, actually,” he answered truthfully. “I was less scared about you finding out about me being a weretiger and more scared that I—” he hesitated, looking down at his bowl of food. You followed his gaze. “Finish eating,” you told him. “I have more to say anyway.

By the time Soonyoung had finished his bowl of stew and ate another at your insistence, you were sitting on the couch, Soonyoung resting over your legs as he hugged around your waist, his face buried in your stomach, a deep rumbling emanating from his chest as he purred happily. You stroked his hair, massaging his scalp with your finger tips.

“This is nice,” you said softly as you combed your fingers through his hair. “Mhm,” Soonyoung hummed. Silence fell over the two of you for a few minutes before you couldn’t stop yourself from asking a question that was at the forefront of your mind.

“Soonie,” you said softly, gently tugging at his hair. “Hmm?” he asked, not lifting his head or opening his eyes. “Can I ask you what you meant earlier about being scared?” You felt him stiffen under your touch before he finally lifted his head, looking up at you. “Wh-what about it?” he asked.

You brushed his hair back from his forehead, cupping his cheek at the same time. “What are you scared of, babe?” Soonyoung took a deep breath before pulling himself up to sit. “I’m scared of frightening you,” he finally answered, glancing at your hand before reaching over to take it in his.

“Of frightening me? How would you frighten me?” you asked, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Soonyoung looked down at your joined hands before speaking. “You know how when we’re intimate?” he asked softly, not looking up as you nodded. “Yes,” you replied, a small smile on your lips. “Well, when the week of the full moon approaches, I start to… change,” he continued.

“My body starts to change.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as your smile spread. “Is this about your heat?” you asked nonchalantly. Soonyoung’s eyes widened as his gaze snapped up to meet yours. “Y-you know about that?” he asked incredulously. You nodded, your smile only growing. “You think I’m going to learn that my boyfriend is a weretiger and not look up what all of that entails? I know everything, baby. Your heat, your transformation cycle, all of it. I also know your curse is familial and not transferred by bites or scratches. Jihoon told me that part though,” you said, reaching up to brush his hair back again.

“And I already know what happens to your cock, so there’s no need to explain that to me.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widened comically. “I learned that on my own by reading. Jihoon did not inform me of that part,” you added, reaching up to bop the end of his nose with the tip of your finger. “I know all about the sexual changes, the heat cycle, the penile spines, copulation, all of it. I know everything.”

Soonyoung wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed, alarmed, or relieved. He felt a mixture of all three as he sat there on his couch with you. “Do you also know about the insatiable urge I have to be buried inside you whenever you’re around?” he asked, noticing how your eyes widened slightly. “No,” you answered softly before a smirk started to form.

“But now I do.”

Soonyoung could feel heat creeping up his neck towards his face at the same time heat settled in the pit of his stomach. A new smell invaded his nostrils. The smell of arousal but it wasn’t his own. He glanced down quickly before looking back up. “Can you smell me?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, the smirk still present on your face. He nodded slowly, holding your gaze.

You leaned back against the arm of the couch, spreading your legs slightly. Soonyoung’s eyes fluttered shut as the scent hit him stronger. He could feel his cock painfully hard in his pants. “Baby,” Soonyoung said softly as a shiver ran up his spine, that insatiable need to bury his cock inside your warm cunt starting to take over. “If you don’t stop me,” he continued, opening his eyes to meet your gaze.

“I won’t be able to stop myself. I’ll…” he trailed off as your hands moved, sliding down your body. “I don’t know what I’ll do,” he said, swallowing thickly as his eyes followed your hands. “Maybe that’s what I want,” you said softly. “Maybe I want you to pounce on me.”

Soonyoung turned his head, averting his gaze as he tried to steady his erratic breathing. He felt the couch move and then your hand under his chin, turning his head to face you. “Don’t look away from me,” you said in a low voice. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Soonyoung whispered, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I promise you won’t,” you replied, leaning into his touch.

“I want you to let it take control. You need this,” you continued, taking one of his hands and guiding it between your thighs, pressing his fingers against your cloth covered crotch. “Pin me down, Soonie. Fuck me like I know you want to.”

Soonyoung let out a sound between a moan and a growl as he closed the distance,  the hand on your cheek sliding to the back of your neck to pull you into a bruising kiss, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. You moaned as he pushed you back onto the couch, pinning you down with his weight alone. 

You could feel his erection in his pants press against you, rutting slightly. “I don’t think I can wait,” he murmured against your lips, hands moving to pull at your shorts. “Then don’t,” you urged as he pulled back, fingers working to undo the tie of your shorts. He made quick work of them, pulling them and your panties off. “Shirt off,” he grumbled as he pulled his own off.

You watched him instead as he undid his pants. He glanced up at you. “What’re you doing?” he asked, his hands stilling. “I’m watching you,” you replied. “He glanced down at your shirt. “Shirt. Off,” he repeated. “What?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “You heard me,” Soonyoung growled as he stared you down. “Take. It. Off. Now.” 

You let out a giggle before complying, pulling your shirt off as he resumed undoing his pants and pushing them down, kicking them off before leaning over you, lips kissing a path up your chest to your neck. “Turn over,” he whispered in your ear.

You did as he asked, rolling over onto your stomach as he leaned over your back. You felt him rub his cheek against your shoulder. “What are you doing?” you asked with a chuckle. “Marking you,” he replied simply. “Don’t worry about it,” he added as he grabbed one of the pillows and guided you to lift your hips, placing the pillow under you.

With your hips raised, he guided the head of his cock to your slit, gathering your arousal on the tip before starting to push into you with a guttural moan. You gasped as he stretched you, the spines on his cock creating a rough but not entirely unpleasant texture as he bottomed out.

“Oh shit,” you gasped as he pulled back, the spikes raking your walls slightly. He thrusted into you harshly and you cried out. Soonyoung leaned over your back, covering your mouth with his hand. “The neighbors will complain, kitten,” he whispered in your ear. “You have to be quiet.”

He gave you another harsh thrust, slamming into you roughly as he set a brutal and unrelenting pace. “Is it too much?” he asked breathlessly. You shook your head, biting into your bottom lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure. You couldn’t hold back when you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder. “Fuck, sorry baby,” he panted as he pounded into you.

“S’okay,” you gasped, walls spasming around him as he send you hurtling towards your orgasm which hit you, the strength making your legs shake as he continued to fuck you through it. “Are you okay?” he groaned as your cunt continued to flutter around his cock. You nodded in response. “Y-yes,” you gasped. “I’m – ah! – M’fine — oh god, Soonyoung!”

A second orgasm washed over you and still he kept thrusting, not showing any signs of slowing down. You knew by the end of it you were going to be a bruised, panting, sticky mess but you couldn’t be bothered to care now that he wasn’t holding back and showing you a new side to him you’d never experienced. As he sent you toppling over the edge of your third orgasm, he finally came without warning as he sank his teeth into your shoulder again as his load exploded inside you, painting your walls in his sticky white essence.

“Fuck!” he growled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing wet kissing against your skin. “Didn’t mean to yell in your ear.” You merely chuckled as you shook your head. “It’s fine, babe,” you replied. “Was I too rough?” he asked suddenly and again you answered with a shake of your head. “No,” you answered. “That was great. In fact,” you said as you lifted your head.

“I’m coming over more often to help with your heat if it means you’ll fuck me like that.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[xxsycamore]

𝙄𝙆𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝙑𝙄𝙇𝙇𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

Browse my Ikevil fics by tag here: 🦋 #ikemen villains

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••• ━━━━━All Characters/Other Characters

Monster Villains' Night [PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] - William, Liam, Harrison, Alfons, Elbert, Ellis, Jude, Roger, Victor, Darius, Nica, Ring x f!Reader [smut] Tags: Monsterfucking; Human/Monster Romance; Werewolves; Vampires; Naga; Succubi & Incubi; Manipulation; Mildly Dubious Consent; Curse play (Ikemen Villains); Light Somnophilia; Non-Human Genitalia; Anonymous Sex; Vampire Bites; Blood Drinking; Mild Blood; Knotting; Creampie; Vaginal Sex; Wet Dream; Vaginal Fingering; Hemipenis; Size Difference; Size Kink; Power Dynamics; Power Imbalance; Power Play; Corruption; Multiple Orgasms; Dom/sub; Fondling; Manhandling; Near Death Experiences; Flying Sex; Predator/Prey; Tail Sex; Tail Play; Possessive Behavior; Cervix Penetration; Oviposition; Eggpreg; Breeding; Unplanned Pregnancy; Sirens; Water Sex; Bathtub Sex; Brainwashing; Smoking; Rough Sex; Desk Sex; Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation

Nine Nights - William, Liam, Harrison, Alfons, Elbert, Ellis, Jude, Roger, Victor x f!Reader [smut] Tags: Glory Hole; Anonymous Sex; Corruption; Hand Jobs; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Come Eating; Come Swallowing; Deepthroating; Masturbation; Dirty Thoughts; Smoking; Objectification; Overstimulation; Penis Size; Multiple Orgasms; Ruined Orgasms; Vaginal Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Size Difference; Large Cock; Creampie; Breast Fucking; Dirty Talk; Squirting/Vaginal Ejaculation

••• ━━━━━William Rex

Off With Your Head! [smut] Tags: Established Relationship; Orgasm Control; Forced Orgasm; Orgasm Denial; Mind Control; Multiple Orgasms; Aftercare; Gentle Sex; Kink Negotiation; Dirty Talk; Overstimulation; Coming Untouched Enthusiastic Consent Public Sex; Masturbation; Lingerie Strip Tease; Begging Light Dom/sub Dominance; Vaginal Fingering Praise Kink Discipline

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 💝 - Extend a non-verbal "I love you"

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: 🤲- Do the classic "Can you hold something for me" - giving them your hand ; 💋 - Pull them in for a sudden fierce kiss

••• ━━━━━Liam Evans

Lights, Camera, Action [smut] Tags: Porn Star AU; Porn actors; Porn Video; mentions of burglary and stalking (from the porn plot); Celebrity Crush; Cunnilingus; Oral Sex; Vaginal Sex

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: 🫂- A warm hug

••• ━━━━━Harrison Gray

Bad Liar [smut] Tags: Jealousy; Make-up Sex; Couple Arguments; Rough Kissing; Vaginal Sex; Riding; Dirty Talk; Swearing; Rough Sex; Creampie

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 🤲 - Play with their hair ; 👔 - Steal their clothes to cuddle when you miss them ; 😘 - Keep smooching them until they protest

••• ━━━━━Alfons Sylvatica

Mirror, Mirror - Alfons x f!reader, Elbert x f!Reader [smut] Tags: Guided Touching; Voyeurism; Strip Tease; Dom/sub Undertones; Vaginal Fingering; Dirty Talk; Come play; Masturbation; Come Marking

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: 😘- A kiss on the cheek

••• ━━━━━Elbert Greetia

Mirror, Mirror - Alfons x f!reader, Elbert x f!Reader [smut] Tags: Guided Touching; Voyeurism; Strip Tease; Dom/sub Undertones; Vaginal Fingering; Dirty Talk; Come play; Masturbation; Come Marking

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event:🧵- A hand-made craft

••• ━━━━━Ellis Twilight

Cooldown [smut] Tags: Semi-Public Sex; Temperature Play; Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Sexual Tension

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: 😘- A kiss on the cheek ; 🫂- A warm hug ; 🫂- A warm hug (2) ; 🍬- Slip heart-shaped candy in their pocket

••• ━━━━━Jude Jazza

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 💋 - Demand for a kiss, right here, right now

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: 😘- A kiss on the cheek ; 🟫 - Kabedon them against the nearest wall ; 💋 - Pull them in for a sudden fierce kiss

••• ━━━━━Roger Barel

A Little Gift [smut] Tags: Implied Alfons Sylvatica/Reader; Open Relationships; Butt Plugs; Implied Anal Sex; Sex Toys; Object Insertion; Desk Sex; Not Wearing Underwear; Breast Play; Nipple Play; Fondling; Dominance; Vaginal Sex; Rough Sex; Angry Sex; Creampie

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 🙏 - Warm their hands between yours

••• ━━━━━Victor

Feather Touch [smut] Tags: Feather Play; Tickling; Pillow Fights; Neck Kissing; Teasing; Light Sadism; Slight knifeplay; Begging; Multiple Orgasms; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Aftercare; Post-sex Cuddles

Sinful Desires [smut] Tags: Overnight Trips; Crimes & Criminals; Mentions of Dungeons; Baking Together; Jealousy; Humor; Competition; Kissing; Biting; Mentions of Knife play; Kitchen Sex; Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Gentle Sex; Embarrassment; Hair-pulling; Hair Kink; Hand Kink; Finger Sucking; Table Sex; Victor briefly makes reader imagine a dangerous situation; Creampie; Post-sex cuddles; Aftercare

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: 😘- A kiss on the cheek

••• ━━━━━Darius Vogel

••• ━━━━━Nica Schwartz

••• ━━━━━Ring Schwartz

[moorishflower]

a clear coast (Dream/Hob siren AU, explicit)

a clear coast || Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling || 11k

Porn with Feelings, Established Relationship, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Interspecies Romance, Sirens, Human/Monster Romance, Monsterfucker Hob Gadling, Blood Kink, Biting, Beach Sex, Public Sex, No one else is present but it is very much public, Non-Human Genitalia, Tentacle Dick, Tentacles, MerMay 2024

On a grey and drizzly day in spring, Hob takes Dream out to dinner.

On AO3: a clear coast

I promised I would write something siren AU for Mermay and I did :) Very proud of myself that I managed to get this done before the end of May lol