#dragon!Price

[docdudo]

Hi, I love your writing it is so good. I just read your foster human story and was wondering if like one, Did she come from an abusive house hold? and two, how would the 141 react to reader flinching or something like that?

Hello, thanks for the compliment! Hope you like the next parts to come!

Reader didn’t exactly come from an abusive household. They’ve been in the system since birth and have experienced a lot of different foster homes—some better than others.

Reader isn’t unfamiliar with rough hands or taking hits from angry or frustrated foster parents. They’ve taken enough hits to instinctively flinch away when hands move too fast in their direction.

And the 141 is also not unfamiliar with foster kids. After their own kids left the nest (literally kkk), they began fostering. Almost all the kids who came through their care were somewhat cautious about physical touch.

They are not surprised about your reaction...

...But that does not mean they are happy about it.

That’s partly why they keep wanting to touch you. It’s their way of reassuring you that their touch is safe and gentle, even though they’re much bigger than you. They’re trying to get you used to their presence and touch without making you feel threatened or sending you running.

And if they ever see anyone—really, anyone—hurting children much smaller than themselves for no good reason, you can bet they won’t stand by in the face of such injustice.

I mean, they were military, special forces. What do they expect, not to receive a rough push and a snarl in their face if they do something stupid like this?

[notspiders]

Oh, Honey! (Bumblebee! Reader x Monster! 141)

General Warnings: Mostly fluff. Reader is female and is described as rather small and chubby. Reader is clumsy. Reader has a very large family. Characters may act out of character. Poor grammar is likely. Cussing. Part 1??? Note: Monster! 141 belongs to @bluegiragi

~~~~

Price watches you through the window.

Truthfully, he isn't sure how he and his team ended up here. One day they were being chased by a bloody team of zombies/cannon fodder, the next- he's laying on this extremely cozy bed (although it is a bit small) with his wounds nicely patched. Soap has gone hunting with the other women. Ghost is satisfied that they're all safe in this... rather massive cottage and has been snoring away in the next room for the past hour. Gaz has told him that he's going to just fly around and keep an eye out- just in case if the enemies somehow find themselves through the dense woods and into this clearing.

They really were lucky, Price thinks. According to you, the woods were a force themselves. Navigating through it, especially at night, is practically impossible. Compasses don't work. There's no signal and, of course, any type of aircraft just fail here. The woods are miles long and unless you packed enough supplies- it's suicide to dive back in and try to find your way out. It's just that sometimes the woods can help you, and sometimes the woods just gives you Mother Nature's middle finger and kills you. So there's that.

Naturally, the team was suspicious.

1) The explanation made no sense. 2) They were just outnumbered by a ton of enemies and to stumble upon this welcoming lot is... well, it's too good to be true, yeah? 3) You and your family are just way too happy. 3.1) There are no guys in your family. Your mother stated that men generally just wandered in, the family would treat them, and then they go away by themselves after a few nights. 3.2) Honestly, all of you look the same. Maybe there's like, a difference in hairstyles, body types, and obvious age gaps between the women here and there, but Jesus… Gaz has already made the mistake of confusing you, your cousins, your many sisters, and other random girls multiple times last night. 3.3) Scratch out the 'massive cottage' you guys claimed it to be. It's a mansion. Your 'family' is very large. There are many aunts, other women, cousins, other girls that were adopt into the family- Just no men. All living under the same roof and might as well be an army itself with how efficient you all did your tasks.

That said, it's very rude to point guns at innocent, clueless civilians. You, an adorably chubby, little bumblebee-hybrid (identifiable by the two rather pathetic buzzing wings behind your back), opened the door to them last night and stared blankly at their guns before cheerily ushering them in without freaking your head out. Next thing they knew, they got some quality homecooked meals cooked and served before them, plenty of drink (the honey mead everyone shared is excellent), proper treatment with their wounds (with... herbs), and warm beds. Ghost had stayed up the whole night and snooped around (just in case) but reported nothing interesting except for a few old hunting rifles and some overdue library books. Yes, each girl did carry a tiny foraging knife, but he's pretty certain they could still punt them like footballs ten at a time.

Morning comes- the team properly introduce themselves without being too specific of their occupation. There was a great deal of oohing and aahing as Price unfolded his one wing. His smoke did cause one girl to faint and her mother quickly asked for Price to... stop. He did his best and has, for now, stopped smoking his cigar. Everyone just steered clear from Ghost. Many children were petting Soap's head and playing with his fluffy tail, and others were stroking Gaz's wings.

Despite all the attention, Price's gaze is always on you. Maybe it was because of the fact that he's seen you first. You were just the cutest out of all of them. He wanted to whisk you away just to squish every soft part of your body and have you cuddled up beside him in his nest back home.

He's sorely disappointed to be told that he needs to return to bed so that his wounds can heal faster. No matter. The window gives him a very nice view of the clearing outside. Some girls are tending to the farm. Others are beekeeping. Plenty have gone to the outskirts of the forest to forage or hunt. Soap has offered to go out with the girls and they gladly accepted his help. (Tomorrow, he'll get off of this bed and join everyone too.)

Right now, you're picking the berries in your garden. It's amusing to watch you. Sometimes you bend over to pluck a few pretty flowers too- he's gotten a very nice view of your plump arse here and there. He's watched you buzz your small wings to just barely get a foot in the air and pluck an apple off the tree. Oh, how he wished to simply go out to lift you up himself... Your weight would be nothing to him.

From his observations, he's smartly deduced: Your body is round. Your little wings aren't designed for distance.

He loves the way you'd burrow your nose into any flower. Sometimes you remind him of Johnny's eagerness by the way you'd get a bit too enthusiastic and faceplant into the bed of flowers to take in the scent.

Price watches you get up, bump into your cousin (or is it sister? Or is this another girl? He couldn't be arsed), and the two of you collectively squeaked and apologized at the same time. Adorable. Fascinating. Beautiful. He hasn't felt this way ever since the time he xaight the glimpse of the shiny Excalibur in that stupid rock.

The lunch horn has been blown. He's been told that today's meal would be freshly baked bread and creamy chicken with wild rice soup. There’ll be tea and coffee for the drinks.

Price wishes his lunch would just be you.

[quarterlifekitty]

I heard “medieval/fantasy” and came sprinting‼️

thoughts and feelings on DragonHybrid!Price? I’ve seen him in monster aus, all good and fun, but a fantasy setting scratches my brain just right. I’m personally imagining it as a sort of werewolf situation where he can pass as a normal mortal just fine, but is forced to retreat to a cave in the mountains for (x reason to transform) (bonus points on if you don’t necessarily know he’s a dragon hybrid)

maybe as his transformation draws closer he becomes more animalistic in nature and appearance. matte scales hidden beneath his shirt and trousers, suddenly he’s looking a little more bulky and running a touch hotter than normal. were his pupils always slightly slit-like? he’s suddenly buying shiny objects, buying you gold rings and necklaces, crystal jewelry. he keeps absentmindedly referring to your home as your ‘den’, trying to keep you in the house more often

I haven’t thought through all the nitty gritty details, but the overall idea drives me insane. hugs and kisses, mwah🎀✨

Ok so. I’m a HUGE fan of the trope of being offered as like a human sacrifice and then getting fucked by the monster lol.

So for Dragon!Price I’m thinking that no one knows the dragon can take human form, and John introduces himself as an emissary for the great dragon of the mountains. He sees all of the potential offerings, pretty girls all done up in white linen, and to your terror, you’re selected.

You try to suck it up for the good of your village— the dragon is the one that protects you from other monsters. His mountain brings your community good fortune and plentiful harvest. But that doesn’t mean people aren’t afraid of him— that there aren’t endless tales of horror about what happens to dragon brides.

John, despite his loyalty to the dragon, is good to you as he escorts you up the mountain. He keeps you fed and rested. When you arrive at the caves there’s a sort of antechamber with many human comforts. John dresses you in fine silks and jewels and gold from a seemingly endless selection. He tells you he has to leave— it’s time to meet your new master and husband. You cling to his arm for a moment, silently begging him to stay with you. He tells you not to worry. That the dragon is fond of you already.

When you’re beckoned further into the cave, you see none other than John— his blue eyes slitted, scales running down his bare back, horns protruding and tail swishing on the floor. Half-transformed— he thought it would be the kinder way to take you on your wedding night.

He caresses the skin of your throat, framed in gold chains, and quietly commends himself for his own good taste.

[writeforfandoms]

Glitter and Gold

Find the CoD masterlist 

As the princess, you always knew you'd marry for power and politics. What you did not expect was to be married to the dragon.

My own take on dragon!Price because I love dragons and I love Price and I went a little feral. Sorry not sorry. 

Warnings: Swearing, political discussion (brief), mostly glossed over wedding ceremony, oral sex (f receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, mention of pregnancy, brief violence (not towards reader), dragon!Price. 

Word count: 7.7k

You stood on your private balcony, torn between disbelief and anger. Not that you should have been surprised, really. 

Your father, the king, was a stubborn man. For as long as you could remember, he hadn't much liked either of the neighboring kingdoms, speaking of them with contempt. Your kingdom was the smallest of the three, but strategically placed, with access to the sea and rivers and mountains. Yours was a kingdom of natural wealth. 

But even so, you'd never have guessed that your father would go so far in his quest to spurn the other two kingdoms (and try to attract a more lucrative offer from a further away kingdom, undoubtedly) as to offer you to the dragon! 

The dragon lived just on the border of the kingdom, and had for centuries. He mostly kept to himself, only very rarely making an appearance when he deemed it necessary. You could remember the last time you'd seen him - you'd been much younger, staring up in awe at the massive form flying high above the capitol city. From the distance, it had been hard to tell what color he was, or how big he really was. 

And your father had offered your hand in marriage. To this dragon. 

You blew out a sigh and shook your head. It was unlikely the dragon would reply. This was just a political move. 

A breeze rustled your skirts, and you frowned a little. Actually, the breeze was picking up. Looking out over the city, you could see flags beginning to snap in the wind. 

Shouting drew your attention, and you looked down into the streets, only to see people clutching clothing and staring up at the sky. You followed their pointing and froze. 

A dragon was coming down from the mountains, heading straight for the city. Sunlight gleamed off him, all reddish-copper, and every beat of his wings sent wind gusting down to the city. Baskets fell, curtains whipped, and one or two people even fell from the force of the wind. 

Being elevated above much of the city was worse - you clung to the balcony railing to keep your footing, eyes narrowed against the sheer ferocity of the wind. 

You'd been wrong, you and your father both. The dragon was upset, and he was coming to punish you, to destroy your city for your father's arrogance–

The dragon was nearly to you now, so huge he eclipsed the sky, dark and foreboding. The dragon tipped his head, one jewel-bright eye staring down at you. Smoke plumed from his nostrils, thick and dark and completely obscuring the sky for the longest moments of your life as you waited for the fire and the screaming. 

But it never came. 

There was a thump almost directly in front of you, and the smoke cleared enough to show a man crouched, perched, on the balcony railing. Jewel-bright blue eyes held your gaze for a long moment before he blinked once. A hat was perched on his head, obscuring much of his hair, but he had a full beard in dark auburn, hints of gray peppering it. His clothes were sturdy but out of date. Those eyes drew you in again, too bright to ignore. 

"You must be my beautiful bride," he rumbled, low and rough as a rockslide. 

"Bride to be," you corrected him crisply, lifting your chin a little. Nothing about this made sense, so you may as well stand up for yourself and what you wanted. 

His lips quirked in amusement. "Bride to be," he agreed, gaze raking over you in a way that felt far more intimate than it actually was. A faint curl of smoke escaped from his nose when he breathed out. 

The door to your room burst open, you could hear it even from the balcony. "Princess!" Half a dozen guards trooped through, although really only one of them fit on the balcony with you and your draconic fiance. "Uh." 

"I suppose we'll need to talk to my father." You straightened your shoulders, looking at those blue eyes again. He was smirking now, apparently amused. But he hopped lightly down from the railing, nimble for a man of his size. And oh what size he had - easily taller than your father, with broad shoulders that spoke to his strength. 

“If you insist,” he agreed, motioning for you to go first. When you stepped ahead of him, he placed a proprietary hand at the small of your back, light but warm. The warmth seeped through your layers, too warm to be human. The little reminder sent a thrill down your spine. 

But it wasn’t fear. Not quite.

The guards all moved out of your way, and you didn’t even glance back to see if they were following. They were. 

This time of day, normally your father would be in talks with his advisors. But, given the very recent upset of having a dragon arrive in the city, it was possible he’d be in his receiving room instead. 

At least, you hoped he would be. 

The dragon-man kept up with you easily, long strides unhurried despite the pace you set. His hand never left you back, ensuring you stayed close to him. 

You snuck a glance at him only to find those blue eyes already focused on you. But you refused to duck your head, refused to look away, refused to be embarrassed. 

After all, if he was to be your husband, what was the harm in looking? 

One of the guards got ahead of you to pull open the door to the receiving room, and you swept in first. 

"Father," you greeted, finding him already standing, staring, a little pale. 

"Welcome," your father greeted, focused on the man next to you. "I wasn't expecting you to respond so quickly." 

The dragon's lips quirked in amusement. "I can see that." 

"Perhaps we should discuss the necessary arrangements privately." The king glanced at you, his two advisors already standing to leave. 

"No." The dragon didn't move, the one word short and sharp. Everyone froze. You barely dared to breathe. "She stays. It is her life, after all." 

Your father frowned, just for a moment. "If that is your wish." 

"It is." The dragon was calm, confident, unhurried. And his hand hadn't left your back.

The door closed softly after the advisors, leaving the three of you alone. 

"Well. I assume you're here to accept my offer." Your father didn't spare you a glance, instead focusing on your dragon. 

"Yes." He prompted you forward with gentle pressure at the small of your back. "I will take her as my bride." 

"Of course." Your father eyed him shrewdly, calculating. "I will need some time to arrange everything–" 

"Send it after us." The dragon shrugged, unconcerned. "We will depart shortly." 

You turned to look at him, frowning. "Without a wedding?"

He shifted with you, keeping his hand pressed to your back. "Do you need one?"

"Yes, I do." 

He huffed in soft amusement. "Very well, my bride." He tugged you closer, gently, coaxing. 

"It will take time to make such arrangements," your father started slowly, calculating. 

"You have three days." Your dragon was colder with him, less patient. 

"But–"

"Three days." His eyes narrowed a little, a wisp of dark smoke escaping with the words. 

Your father paused and swallowed. "It will be done," he agreed. 

And that? Seeing your father back down and bend to the dragon's will? That sent a thrill down your spine, made your pulse pick up. 

"Any other supplies needed will be sent after us." The dragon looked down at you again, his expression softening. "You will tell me if there is anything specific you need." 

You blinked at him but nodded. "I will," you agreed in a murmur. 

His lips twitched and he nodded. "Then we should have nothing else to discuss." 

The king stiffened a little but apparently decided it wasn't worth potentially angering the dragon, because he nodded. 

The dragon nudged you out ahead of him, hand still against your back. "Do you need to prepare?"

"I should," you agreed, looking at him. "But…"

"Yes?" He raised one eyebrow at you. 

"What can I call you?" You shifted slightly closer to him. "Since I am to be your wife." 

His lips twitched in that little smile again, private and pleased. "John." 

"John," you repeated. "Will I see you again before the wedding, John?"

"You will." He smirked, stopping when you did. "I'll see you soon." His hand finally left your back, leaving you almost cold, and one big finger tucked under your chin. Eyes wide, you tipped your chin up at his insistence, your gaze locked on his. He leaned down, sending your heart pounding. For a wild moment, you thought he was going to kiss you. 

But he simply nosed your cheek, gentle and warm. He stepped back, releasing you from the sheer pull of his gaze, and dipped his head to you in the only sign of respect you'd seen from him. 

Leaving you warm and flustered and chilled all at once, standing outside your rooms. 

The rest of the day and the next passed in near-frantic preparations. You directed some maids to pack up the things you decided you could not live without, and fortunately a dress had already been in the works. There was no way to get any other dignitaries or even leaders from the other towns in your kingdom. 

It was going to be an unconventional wedding, for an unconventional marriage. 

But you couldn't deny the stirrings of excitement in your veins. 

Especially after John came back to visit you. 

He found you outside in the gardens, walking slowly, letting the familiar paths help settle your mind. You didn’t even hear him approaching - one moment you were alone, and then he fell into step next to you, startling you. 

“Apologies, princess,” he murmured with a smirk. 

You huffed. “You’re quiet,” you observed, glancing at him. “I’m surprised.” 

He shrugged. “Habit,” was all he said on that. He reached up to adjust his odd hat, gaze interested as he looked around the garden. “Have to admit mine doesn’t look this good.”

“You have a garden?” The thought was so surprising that you stopped, blinking up at him. 

“A garden was left behind,” he corrected gently. His hand landed at the small of your back again, gently pushing you into walking. “I don’t do much to maintain it.”

“Hmm.” You eyed him curiously. “Where do you live?” 

He glanced down at you, openly amused. “You’ll find out,” he murmured. 

“Do you live alone?” Curiosity had reared its head now, refusing to relent until you had at least a few answers. He hadn’t gotten mad at you yet, after all. 

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

That got him to pause for a moment, considering how to answer you, even as he kept walking. “Never taken a mate,” he said finally. His teeth flashed briefly in a grin. “Never been offered a bride, either.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. “Then I suppose this will be something new for the both of us.”

“Suppose it will.” His fingers flexed against your back before he tugged you closer, close enough to feel the heat pouring from him, the scent of smoke seemingly a permanent fixture around him. “And what does my princess think of marrying a dragon?” 

You warmed at the easy, possessive way he referred to you. “I think I will not be bored with you.” You tipped your head, playful but still watching. 

He chuckled, rumbling and delicious. “No,” he agreed, his voice even lower than normal. “You won’t.” 

The pair of you paused near one edge of the garden, although you couldn’t look away from him. He wasn’t upset with your testing - if anything, he seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were. 

You would need to go, and soon, but first, one more thing… 

“You know,” you started, casual, watching him intently, “I have heard a few rumors about dragons.”

“Oh?” One eyebrow lifted in clear invitation to keep going. 

“As much as I don’t think this one is accurate, I still feel I should tell you…” You risked taking one step closer to him, trying to hide your humor. “Just so you know… If what I heard is true… If you eat me, I will give you indigestion.” 

He blinked at you, eyes wide, apparently stunned with your daring. And then he tipped his head back to laugh, loud and unrestrained, baring the long line of his throat to you. 

Oh, that was an absolutely lovely sound. You could get addicted to that sound far too easily. 

“You are a feisty one,” he murmured, finally looking at you again with a smirk. “Good.” He looked back towards the castle, eyes narrowing, before he huffed. Smoke plumed out of his mouth with the exhale, thick and dark. “You need to return before they come searching for you.” 

“I suppose so.” You couldn’t hear anything, but perhaps his hearing was better than yours. It wouldn’t truly surprise you. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, princess.” He leaned in again, slowly but surely, his hand big and warm at your waist. But this time, his lips brushed your cheek, so light you could just feel the touch. 

And then he was gone, turning and walking away from you. 

The remaining time passed too fast until you found yourself at the ceremony. Since everything had been rushed, the ceremony had been opened to the city - people were gathered outside the pavilion, jostling and shifting to get a better view.

Not necessarily of you. But of your soon-to-be-husband.

John stood tall, shoulders straight, hat gone to show the horns arching from his head. Those did make you blink, at least until those blue eyes met yours again. Then everything else just… faded into the background. The crowd didn’t matter. Your family didn’t matter. Even the droning of the priest didn’t matter.

All that mattered were those blue, blue eyes. 

The ceremony finished, and you had to blink yourself back to the present. Right. You still had to sit through the rest of the celebration. 

Except John took your hand, tugging you closer to him. You blinked up at him, caught off-guard. 

“Time to go,” he murmured, ignoring everyone else as he began to walk. 

“Already?” You debated seeing if you could get him to relent to you again, or if that would be pushing your luck. 

“I’ve already waited three days for you,” he rumbled, amused. “Got everything ready for you before I came to get you.”

And that? The knowledge that he’d not just received the offer and immediately come, but had put thought into this? Had something prepared for you? That melted you, just a little, sent your heart thudding into your ribs. 

“How are we getting there?” You thought that was a fair question, once again focused on him to the exclusion of the rest of the world. Vaguely, you noted people getting out of his way, well-wishes yelled to you both. But you ignored the lot of it.

The smile he slanted at you was amused and more or less hidden by his beard. “You’ll see,” was all he offered, taking the fastest route out of the city. You stumbled once, not exactly attired for a quick walk through the city. A moment later you were scooped up in his arms, held securely there. Your gasp made him smile. 

“You don’t have to–” you started to say, uncertain, hands gripping his shirt. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, just for you. “You’re fine.” 

You’d only known him for days, and yet you believed him. You didn’t protest again, simply curling further into him. The deep, pleased hum from him was something you felt more than heard.

He didn’t stop until you were outside the city, the walls well behind you before he finally set you on your feet. 

“Now you’ll see how we’re getting home.” He grinned briefly, taking a few big steps back, away from you. You blinked, curiosity overpowering anything else, and watched him. He breathed out smoke and there was a low sound, like distant thunder. Suddenly pressure in the air made you take a half-step back, wrinkling your nose and shaking your head briefly to clear it. 

A low rumble drew your gaze back to where John had been. The smoke was clearing slowly, but enough that you could see the outline of something much, much bigger. Your heart slammed against your ribs and you went very still, caught in the ages-old terror of a predator much bigger than you. 

The dragon moved slowly, making a low noise almost like a purr except much deeper. His head snaked forward, long neck straining a little, before halting right in front of you. His head was bigger than you were tall, thick horns curving back over his head. But his eyes were still that same jewel-bright blue. 

"John?" Your fingers trembled as you held out one hand, still moving so slowly. 

Those big, bright eyes blinked slowly and he pushed his snout into your fingers, more gently than you would have thought him capable. Copper-red scales were warm and smooth to your touch, and touch you did. Your fingers started on his snout but moved up until you were on your tiptoes to explore, curiosity quickly overriding your fear. The ridges above his eyes were a little tougher, but he leaned into the touch when you scratched gently, and something in you melted. 

"You're not so scary," you teased him gently, scratching harder at his eye ridges to watch his eyes close in clear enjoyment. "Are you?" 

He huffed, smoke blowing out his nostrils, but you just laughed. 

"Okay. How are we…?" You trailed off, uncertain how to ask the rest of the question. 

He nudged you very gently with his snout, pushing you towards his shoulders. There was a spot you could just see, at the end of his neck before his wings, where you could hold on. 

It would not be the most dignified way to travel, but… who was there to judge you anymore? Who would even dare? 

Your lips stretched into a slow grin at the realization, heart fluttering. You had a dragon for a husband. Nobody would dare to mock you now!

He huffed again, nudging you gently. You patted his nose. 

"Yes, alright, let me figure out how to get up there." You eyed the vast expanse of scales and muscle in front of you. There were, of course, no clear handholds, or places to put your feet. 

You did shriek, just a little, when he suddenly picked you up by the back of your dress, teeth closed very carefully around fabric only, and deposited you into place. 

One new observation: your husband was impatient. Or at least not currently willing to indulge your curiosity. You pouted.

Until he stood up, the sudden motion making you cling to his scales, hunkering down. He rumbled again, the noise vibrating through his chest and straight into you, at once comforting and electrifying. 

That was all the warning you got before he started moving, loping several strides until his wings snapped out. One flap of those great wings nearly unseated you, and you were quick to adjust your seat and grip before he beat his wings again, and you two were in the air. 

Wind whipped at your hair and clothes, and it took you a few minutes to find a comfortable place to sit and cling to him securely. You made the mistake of looking down only once, the trees far below you bending and swaying with the force of his passage. A little sick now, you closed your eyes tightly and just hung on tight. 

You weren't sure how long the two of you traveled. Longer than you liked, certainly. Much shorter than it would have taken on foot, or even on horseback. 

The sun was still bright out when he flew lower, aiming for the side of a mountain. You squinted, trying to see where he was going. But the wind was too strong and he was going too fast. 

The sun was suddenly gone and you gasped, blinking rapidly, even as he slowed and then landed more delicately than you would have thought. 

Finally giving you a chance to look around. 

The cavern was big, easily big enough for him to fly into or out of, and fairly dark. You tipped your head back, looking up at the rough ceiling above, awed. 

A soft grumble from the dragon made you blink and look back at him to find his head turned to look at you. One big eye blinked, and he slowly lowered himself all the way to the ground. 

Guess it was time to get down. 

Very carefully, you slid down his shoulder until your feet touched the floor. But your first step was wobbly and your knees nearly gave out under you. But you remained upright, more or less, until you could stagger against one wall of the cavern. 

The air around you shivered and shifted again, and a moment later you heard footsteps. 

"Easy, princess," he murmured, voice even raspier than normal. "You're alright."

"I'm fine," you agreed, still a little shaky. "Just… not accustomed. That's all." 

Big warm hands settled at your waist, holding you steady. "Hmm. Your shoes are no good down here. I'll have to fix that." His hands left you for a moment before he was scooping you up into his arms again. 

"I could manage," you protested gently, though your hands were already curling into him. "You've already carried me a lot." 

"You're fine," he insisted, holding you a little tighter. "I've got you." 

You hummed and relaxed into him, enjoying the warmth after the chill of the flight here. You did hold a little tighter to him as the light all but vanished as he walked down a hallway. 

"Almost there," he assured you, rumbling soothingly. 

You swallowed but nodded once, waiting a little anxiously for the light to return. 

Which it did with grandeur. 

You gasped as John turned a corner, light streaming down from above, tinged gold as it bounced off strategically-placed mirrors and shields of gold. The entire space was large, and somewhat open around what you could only assume was his hoard. Gold and gems piled up in the center of the room, jewelry spilling out onto the floor. A goblet lay on its side on the floor, little red gems set into the precious metal. 

"Welcome to my hoard," John rumbled, walking closer, still not letting you down. "You will have plenty of time to explore to your heart's content, princess. You should see this first." 

You blinked, shaking yourself a little out of the momentary daze, and looked up at him. "Oh?" 

He merely hummed, walking around the long side of the hoard to the back. You could see another hallway leading to a set of stairs, but your attention was quickly diverted. 

Tucked between the back of the hoard and the back wall was, for lack of better term, a nest. A long piece of blue fabric had been stretched over the top to allow for some privacy, while pillows and blankets had been piled into a rough circle. 

"Oh." Your eyes went wide as you examined the space, gaze darting everywhere. "Is this…?"

"For you," John agreed, setting you on your feet. 

You stepped forward slowly, pausing at the edge of the blanket nest before you knelt down to feel it. It was softer than you'd expected, well cushioned. You could sleep here easily. Surprised and undeniably touched by the thoughtful gesture, you turned to him with a smile. 

"This is amazing," you murmured. "Thank you." 

"It's my pleasure." He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Have to keep my princess comfortable, hm?" 

You warmed a little at the possessiveness in his voice but stood again. "Show me around?" 

His hand settled at your back again, his warmth welcome now in the cooler air of the cavern. He didn't take you all the way around the hoard, saying you'd have plenty of time to explore that on your own. Instead he took you up the stairs, lighting a torch to carry along with you two. 

The stairway opened up into another corridor, this one relatively short. An open doorway showed a very old-fashioned kitchen, quiet and empty now. Beyond that were the pantries and cold larder, also all empty. 

Another set of stairs brought you up to a servants corridor and then to a formal dining room. The furniture was mostly gone, although the table remained. But the windows remained, mostly intact, and your lips parted in surprise. 

"Where…?" You couldn't quite finish your question, gaze darting around, steps slowed to almost nothing. 

"My home." John puffed up a little in obvious pride at your reaction, gently tugging you forward. "You will see." 

You allowed him to lead you forward, craning your head to try to see everything at once. Although it was old and clearly much depleted, it was easy to see the once-grandeur of this place. Mosaics still remained on the floor, one wall although cracked still showed a mural: a mountain towered over a castle, a fertile valley stretching below. 

"Oh." You blinked at the mural. "Oh, this is the old castle, the abandoned one." 

"Been abandoned for a long time," John agreed, coming up behind you to rest both hands at your waist. "Before I moved in, certainly." 

"And how long ago was that?" You tipped your head a little to one side, still drinking in the mural. 

"A long time ago." His voice rumbled through you, making you shiver. 

"I'm surprised it's still standing." You leaned back, just a little, into his warmth. 

"Not all of it does," he murmured, lowering his head to speak close to your ear. "Parts of the castle have crumbled, and parts of it are unsafe. But some of it remains intact. I have not had much use for it, but perhaps you would." 

"I just might." You smiled, tilting your head back to look up at the ceiling, still in good repair here. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all," he agreed. 

You spent a good little while exploring with him. John was never more than a few steps behind you, letting you lead but always warning you if you got too close to anywhere potentially dangerous. It was, actually, quite a lot of fun. These ruins hadn't been inhabited for a long time, John excepted. And you suspected he didn't spend a lot of time up here. 

This was not how you'd expected to spend your first day as a married woman, but you were not going to complain. 

Eventually, though, the sun dropped and the temperature with it, leaving you fighting off the chill in the air unsuccessfully. John huffed softly and gathered you in close, his warmth absolutely delightful now. 

"Need to get you somewhere warm again," he murmured, lips pressing briefly to the shell of your ear. 

"I can walk," you insisted. 

"Very well, my princess." The amusement was clear in his tone, but he let you walk back through the castle and down the stairs back to the hoard. And, more importantly, to your nice warm nest. 

You paused, though, glancing at him. Normally this first night was… more than simply sleeping. 

He didn't seem to notice your trepidation, instead stepping aside and over to a small goblet set aside from the rest. You watched him curiously as he pulled a dagger from the same short table the goblet rested on. Before you could ask what he intended to do, he sliced the end of one of his fingers, merely grimacing. 

"What…?" You gasped, watching with wide eyes as blood welled and dropped slowly into the goblet. 

"You will need this." Sharp eyes glanced at you and away again. "This will help to keep you warm, as well as to protect you."

"Protect me?" You took a single step closer to him. "From what?" 

"It gets much colder here than you are used to." John breathed in slowly, gaze fixed on yours. "It will also protect you from me. I run too hot to couple with a human more than once." 

You warmed but refused to look away from him. "I see." 

He looked away first, looking down into the goblet and wrapping a spare piece of fabric around his finger. "Drink." 

The goblet was warm to the touch and you peered into it, a little apprehensive. The blood inside was dark with a shimmer, almost, on top, a shifting slide of colors that changed as you tilted the cup back and forth gently. 

Well. You were already here, had already done this much. You just had to trust that he wasn't trying to hurt you. 

You tipped the goblet back, drinking the contents down in one go. 

It was warm, just the right side of hot. Not unlike a good cup of tea on a chilly evening, only the flavor was all wrong. Iron and something burnt and metal. You swallowed, shivering briefly, the warmth traveling down to your stomach. But it didn't stop there, continuing all the way to your extremities until you were warm, too warm, fever warm. Shaking hands went for your dress to start getting your layers off - you were suffocating in them. 

"Easy," John rumbled, catching your hands and pulling you in close. Oddly enough, the warmth of him was soothing rather than too much, especially coupled with the strong hug. "You're alright, princess. Give it a minute, let it settle." 

"What–?" You gasped at another wave of warmth pulsing through you, your hands clamping tight around his shirt. 

"Shh, love." Gentle lips pressed to your forehead. "It will pass." 

You made a very undignified noise, trembling through the heat until it ebbed. Then you rested against him, still trembling but steadier. 

"Alright?" John tipped your head up gently, fingers gentle against your skin. 

"I… think so." You blinked at him, just now aware of the wetness on your eyelashes. "That was…"

"Necessary." He pressed another kiss to your forehead. He still felt warm to you, but not quite as warm. "You did very well." 

You blinked up at him, lifting one shaky hand to wipe away the wetness at your eyes, but he beat you to it. Gentle fingers wiped your cheeks and under your eyes, and he hummed softly. 

"You should sleep now," he murmured. "Rest will help you to get back to normal." 

"I'm alright." You frowned a little, trying to will yourself into being alright. Very rarely had you been so physically affected by something. 

"You will be in the morning." His lips quirked in amusement at your stubbornness. "Let me help you, princess." 

You huffed but gave in, still feeling just off kilter enough to not argue further. John helped you out of your gown all the way down to your slip, hands slow and steady over newly-bared skin. 

But that was all he did before he helped you settle into the nest. 

"Where are you sleeping?" You asked, already getting comfortable, eyelids heavy now that you were horizontal. 

"I'll join you later," he murmured. "You just sleep." 

You huffed a little complaint but, soon enough, your eyelids closed. 

Rather to your surprise, John didn't do more than help you dress or undress for three days. His touches lingered, warm and both soothing and exciting, but he didn't ask for more than that. He seemed happy enough to let you explore, following you into and around the castle and onto the grounds. 

Finally, though, you caught his hands as he was undoing the laces to your dress. (A new one today, one that had simply appeared next to your bed that morning with a smug-looking John watching you subtly.) 

"Something the matter?" John asked, low and gentle, holding quite still. 

"Not exactly," you hedged. "I just… you did mention… and we are married…" You looked down, heat rushing to your cheeks. It's not like you had a lot of experience with asking for this kind of thing. 

He chuckled, moving closer until you could feel him pressed up against your back. "Yes, princess?"

You puffed out your cheeks, burning, and almost none of it had to do with his warmth. "I'd like you to… to touch me." 

"I can do that." He bent his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. At your shiver, he pulled his hands from under yours and finished unlacing your dress, letting it pool around your feet. "How much does my princess want to be touched?" 

"Enough to ask for it." You tipped your head to give him better access, hands curling and uncurling to release some of your nervous energy. 

"Ask nicely, then." Teeth a little too sharp to be human nipped your ear, and you gasped. 

"P-please."

"Mmm, good girl." He rewarded you with another kiss to your neck. 

He moved the two of you easily, lowering you into the nest and settling above you to kiss you, his hands working up under your remaining layers to palm your bare thighs. His eyes, when he pulled back enough to look at you, were nearly black with desire. 

"Do you have any idea how good you look?" He asked in a low growl, hands squeezing your thighs. "Dressed in things I brought you, in a nest I made for you?" 

You gasped at the sheer possessiveness in his voice, shivering once. “John…” 

He licked his lips before leaning down to kiss you again, taking his time, discovering exactly what you liked. He didn’t stop until you were panting, hands fisted in his shirt. 

But you were still surprised when he ripped the last layer of clothes, sharp nails making short work of the fabric and leaving shreds on the nest around you. Your eyes went wide at how easy it was for him, at the strength he’d been holding back. 

And he had been holding back you realized, watching him look over all the newly exposed skin with something almost feral in his gaze. He’d been holding back for you, giving you time. 

All thoughts flew from your mind when he dipped his head, lips landing in the divot of your collarbone, hands grasping your hips. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear over the thundering of your pulse. “And mine.” His lips traveled down your body, slow but determined. When your hands tugged in his shirt from the grip you still held, he huffed a warm breath against the skin of your navel. But he was quick to pull his shirt off, gently taking your hands and guiding them to his head. “Hold on to me, love.” 

You licked your lips, one hand threading into the thick mass of his hair, the other carefully exploring one of his horns. 

All thoughts of exploring flew from your head with the first kiss he placed to your inner thigh. 

He moved slowly but steadily, his tongue exploring the space between your thighs. Every gasp, every whimper, every moan that escaped your lips urged him on, his tongue sweeping broadly through your wetness. Warmth pooled low in your belly, tension coiling through your muscles. 

John pulled his head back and you whimpered, lifting your head to look down at him. He grinned, teeth just a little too sharp to be human, wetness smeared across his lips and cheeks and beard. 

“Tell me if anything hurts, love,” he murmured, low but commanding. 

“I will,” you managed, a little surprised you got words out and not just noises. 

With a satisfied noise of his own, John dove back in. But a finger slid into you slowly, the intrusion odd but not unwelcome. You couldn’t resist wiggling your hips. 

Until his arm banded over your hips, holding you down. 

“John–” Your fingers tightened, desperate for something solid to hold onto. 

He hummed softly, the sensation shocking and far too good. The noise you made would have embarrassed you if you had any space to think about it, but he must have liked it, because he growled long and low. 

The coil in your gut snapped and you shouted as pleasure coursed through you, intense and unrelenting for long moments. Until it ebbed and you relaxed, panting, eyes wide. 

“Still with me?” John had shifted up a bit, his chin resting on your hipbone, eyes fixed on your face.

You nodded, slow and languid, eyes fixed on him. "Mmhm." 

"Good." He pressed a kiss to the skin of your hip before nipping gently, playfully. "Ready for more?"

You swallowed but nodded, loosening your grip on his hair. He moved up your body slowly, taking his time to place kisses and gentle nips across your skin. 

"Tell me if it hurts," he murmured to you, fingers still in you starting to rock again, gentle but insistent. Your eyes fluttered as the warmth in you started up again, slow and steadily building. 

"John." You tipped your head to kiss him again, fingers exploring the breadth of his shoulders. It wasn't long until you were moving under him, hips rocking to meet his fingers, your own fingers holding tight to his shoulders. He breathed out against your neck, damp and hot. 

"Alright, princess." He pulled his fingers from you, ignoring your little whine. "We'll go slow, hm?" 

You didn't understand for a moment, until you felt the thick of him press against you. You breathed in deeply, watching his face. His brow furrowed a little as he started to press in, taking his time as promised, until you had to toss your head back against the pillows with a whimper. 

"Alright?" He didn't move, holding himself still, holding back. Again. For you. 

"Yes," you gasped, the fullness distracting but undeniably pleasant. "More, please–" 

He groaned, one hand clamping over your hip, fingers smearing wetness across your skin. His movements started slow, cautious, until you arched up into him and nearly begged for more. Then he moved faster, that delicious feeling of fullness near-addicting as pleasure coiled. 

The heat of him pressed into your skin was more than you'd expected, only heating further as he moved. You quickly understood why he'd made you drink a few days ago - the heat would have been uncomfortable, perhaps unbearable, before. 

But now it was all part of this curling pleasure, higher and hotter with every stroke. 

"Come for me, my princess," he growled into your ear, teeth sharp against your skin. "Give it to me. One more, give it to me." 

Those sharp teeth bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder and you cried out wordlessly as your pleasure crested and broke. His low growl vibrated against your skin, your chest, even in the deepest parts of you, and you writhed underneath him. 

His teeth didn't leave your skin as he thrust a few more times into you and stilled. Heat settled in you, just on the edge of too hot. You gasped, unsure if you wanted to get away from it or not. 

"Hush, love." His voice was still ragged but calmer, and he pressed soothing kisses to your skin, even as he kept himself firmly inside of you, keeping that heat trapped in you. "Easy." 

"What…?" You blinked slowly, hands slow as they traced his shoulders. 

"Just relax," he rumbled, voice dropping to a soothing rumble. "Relax for me, my princess." His hands smoothed up your sides, slow and firm. 

You relaxed, lulled by his voice and his touches. Eventually, the near-burning heat in you settled back to something easier, leaving you pleasantly tired. 

"Ready to sleep?" He kept his voice quiet and low, one hand reaching up slowly to smooth over your brow. 

"Mmhm." You blinked slowly, struggling to keep your eyes open. 

"Sleep, then." He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, his eyes nearly glowing in the darkness. That pleased little smile was the last thing you registered before you drifted to sleep. 

The two of you settled into a routine after that. You got to go anywhere you wanted. John brought you anything you desired (and then some). It was not the life you'd expected, growing up, but it was better, because your choices were your own. If you ever said no, John respected it. 

Things were close to excellent.

A year had passed before you knew it, your belly slowly growing round with the child growing within you. John had started hovering more as you showed, occasionally refusing to even leave your side. (He was just a little overbearing but you knew he meant well.) 

One afternoon, he stopped you from leaving the treasury and stalked off, anger rolling from him. Curious and refusing to be left out, you followed. 

John stalked out of the long entrance tunnel, plumes of smoke billowing out behind him. Well, whatever had happened, he was very mad. 

It didn't take you long to figure out why. 

John emerged into the bright daylight and moved silently down the hill a little ways. You barely had time to catch up to him, hand cradled protectively over your belly, when John lunged and tackled something. 

No. Someone. Someone who shouted in surprise, sword falling to the grass at his feet. Dark-skinned hands rose to grasp and claw at John's forearm as John lifted the intruder off his feet and into the air. 

"I told you to stay inside." John didn't raise his voice, because he never raised his voice at you. But he was displeased. 

"I was curious." You took two slow steps closer, eyeing the intruder. "Why did you come here?" 

The intruder’s gaze flicked from John to you and back, his brow furrowing. His voice was tight when he finally asked, “Are you the princess?”

“That’s me,” you agreed, amused, lifting your chin. “And?” 

“I, um.” He paused, trying to suck in a breath and coughing a little. 

“John.” 

Your dragon growled, low and displeased, but allowed the intruder’s feet to touch the ground again. He did not let the man go. 

“I heard stories,” the man said, glancing between the two of you again. “That a dragon stole a princess, that she needed rescuing.”

“Stole?” Both your eyebrows flew up. “Well. Someone is lying to you all, because I married him.” You finally stepped close enough to put a gentle hand on John’s back. 

“...What?” The poor man looked a bit gobsmacked now. 

“Who told you I stole her?” John sounded a little less furious, which was a good thing as far as you were concerned. 

The man faltered. “I mean, no one in particular, just, there were stories going ‘round…” He shrugged. 

You tipped your head, looking at him. He didn’t look like someone from your city, and if he had been, he’d have remembered the wedding. (You were quite sure that people still told stories of the day a dragon had come down from the sky to marry their princess.) So, he was either from another town in your kingdom, or from another kingdom entirely. “Why did you come here?” 

“I told you–” he started, confused. 

“No, I meant you. Why did you come?” You nudged the sword on the ground, taking a closer look at it. It was old, the edges not sharpened properly. Not the sword of a current knight, certainly. 

He paused at that, jaw clenching, fingers still curled around your dragon’s forearm. Then he sighed softly. “Don’t have anything left, figured I’d try.” 

“John.” You turned your gaze on your dragon.

“No,” was his instant retort. 

“John.” You stepped closer, pressing up against his side, looking up at him hopefully. 

John lifted his upper lip in a silent snarl, blowing out some smoke at the intruder, who made a face and tried valiantly not to cough. You ignored the little fit of temper. 

“He’s not even a knight,” you murmured. “He was just trying to help.” 

“And if I let him go, how many more will follow?” John asked, low and vicious. “Hm? You are mine. I will not allow them to hurt you.” 

“So let him stay here.” You shrugged.

“What?” John looked down at you, eyes wide.

“What?” the intruder choked out too, also staring at you.

“You know we could use the help, and I wouldn’t mind the company.” You batted your eyelashes at John. “And that way you’ll know I’m not alone when you have to go do your dragon stuff.”

John looked torn. He was loathe to deny you anything, something you knew and shamelessly took advantage of. He just needed a little nudge. 

“What did you do, before you decided to come here?” You looked at the intruder. 

“I was a baker,” he admitted slowly. 

“Oh, excellent,” you sighed with real pleasure. You’d been missing fresh bread. 

John’s shoulders slumped, and you hid your smile. “You have a choice,” he growled at the baker. “You can stay and follow my rules, or I can drop you in the ocean.”

“I’ll stay,” the baker was quick to agree, finally releasing John’s forearm to put his hands out at his sides. 

John finally released him, though he still looked grumpy. You ignored that, smiling and introducing yourself properly. 

“I’m Kyle,” he said, his smile small but warm with gratitude. “Kyle Garrick.”

“Well, Kyle Garrick, allow me to show you around.” You tucked your arm through John’s, gently tugging until he allowed himself to be led back inside. Kyle fell into step on your other side, though he kept a bit of respectful distance. 

Oh yes. You wouldn’t trade this life for anything. 

[yeyinde]

WICKER PYRE | Dragon!Price x Reader

All things considered, you should have expected it. You know better than to make deals with dragons.

WARNINGS: 18+ | light smut—no descriptions of anatomy used for the reader; possessive undertones; dragon trickery; blink and you'll miss it Celtic Dragon mythology and folklore WORD COUNT: 1,5K NOTES: They tempted me with hellfire and pretty imagery, so. Here we are.

It smells of biochar, pyrolysis. The incendiary heat sparks to life around you; a thick, impenetrable wall of stifling warmth, and you blink through the haze, the heat mirage, that swims in front of your eyes, trying to clear the clouds from your vision. 

It's hot. 

Hellfire. Inferno. Absolute. 

Paradoxically, it edges into dry heat—wildfires: burning forests, charred logs, crumbling charcoal, ashes—but your skin is drenched in sweat; sticky, tacky. Hot springs. Lavascape. 

You're drowning in Phlegethon, hands clawing at molten skin to stay afloat. 

"Shush, shush—"

It's a wheezing rasp. A rumble that rebounds against the carverous, limestone walls and echoes in your ears. The vibrations of it rattle through your chest and dislodge the panic from between your ribs. 

"Easy, now."

Despite the smoked-cured softness of the voice above you, around you, in you, it booms through your marrow; the sudden shift of the plates. A tectonic shockwave that bludgeons into you. 

"Can't—" you start, words a desperate, aching whine. "Can't—John—it's so hot—!"

His answer is a grunt; a rolling, monstrous sound that shivers across your skin. It's easy, with his front pressed against your back, his words hissed into your crown, to forget that he isn't a man. That his body is made of the valleys: carved from chiselled andesite, graphite, and limestone. Coursing through his veins is ichor and brimstone, fed from the burning pyre inside his chest that blooms tuffs of smoke, and reeks of ash. 

He quiets you with another low pur, and feeds the tips of his steel claws into your flesh, anchoring you tight to his body.

And then you hear the fire-painted voice speak from between his nicotine fangs: "I know." 

And you suppose he would. 

Molten blood. Igneous skin. His voice is Pyroclastic: tephra falling from his heaving chest. 

With the exception of his pointed, angular claws, his hands almost look human. Almost. 

But when they grip your hips tight, the skin of his palms feels too thick. Too velveteen. Like the soft underbelly of a reptile.

Those claws hold you steady as he slides the full, burning length of himself into you. The blunt press of his cock splitting you apart, and the rasp of his knuckles, rough with blackened osteoderms protruding from his thick skin, makes you shiver. It feels like sandpaper when it prickles over your flesh. 

You try to gasp but the oxygen in the room is swallowed by the flames. Try to move but his weight on your body is a plutonic ash bed. A prison. 

Jewels and gems nip at your skin when you ramble to find purchase on the treasure trove of his nest, to find something to hold onto while your body is slowly consumed by the unrelenting heat of him stretching you into a shape you do not recognise. 

"Tryna run?" He mocks. "Thought you could handle it, mm? Wasn't that our deal? Do you know what happens to little humans who try to break their promises?"

You want to bite back something scathing, something dripping in venom and cruelty, but the words are ground into peat salt when he presses the full weight of himself onto you, using the momentum to snap his hips harder, faster, than he was before. 

(You swear, swear, you feel the white-hot tip of him digging harshly into your sternum.)

But he's merciful—to a degree—and his hand lifts, drops in front of your nose, claws gleaming in the flames that surround his den, his prison, his home. 

You take in the sight of his heat-scorched skin—a chromosphere of living magma: blistering red dusted with fine ash. It's pretty. Stunning. You're mesmerised by the ripples of fire running in thick rivulets beneath his carbonised pelt, and you know, then, why he's so sought after. Respected. Feared. 

(Who would try and run afoul around a man, a being, a beast, who has hellfire burning in his veins?)

The brief respite splinters when he shifts forward, pushing himself as deep into your body as he can possibly go, and the world around you lists sharply on its axis when he pulses, branding you from the inside out, turning your body into a magma chamber that only fits him—

You can't breathe—haven't been able to since you rocked up to the smouldering cavern on the side of a mountain, and demanded he make a deal with you. It's hard to acclimate to the carbon-rich air that thrums around you like a thick curtain of plasma, threatening to consume you whole. 

"Easy, now, pretty thing," he purrs again and the deep rumble that spills from his expansive chest seems to glue to each bone in your body, reverberating deep within your liquifying marrow.

His elbow falls, chin presses into your crown. He breathes you in, and the world around you shudders, and ripples like the glimmering sea of a heat haze. An optical illusion. A mirage. But one that flexes around you like water; moulding to your body, and filling in all the crevasses and canyons until the plasmic air clings to your skin. 

Smoke billows with his exhale. You scent charred tobacco leaves, brimstone, crushed granite, and burning rock—sharp and acrid. The smell sticks to the back of your throat and colours your lungs in a fine layer of rock dust.

The world around you shakes when he growls into your crown, nose pressed tight to your sweat-slicked skin. 

It feels like an earthquake rattling inside of you, shaking loose the paper-thin threads of sanity that keep you still beneath his bulk.

"Ah, John—"

His forearm slides closer to your gasping mouth, and you scent guncotton on his skin. Thick. Heady. It makes your head swim, and a fever bloom in your veins. 

"There," he huffs into your hair, and the plume of his voice heats the world around you by several degrees. "Now you have something to hold on to, love." 

His voice is pinched with something that sounds mockingly cruel, mordant, but there's a softness in the way he holds you close; a tenderness that biles the roughness of his hands, the sharp drag of his claws against your flesh. 

"Now," he continues, hand tightening on your skin hard enough to bruise your tremulous bones. "Be good, and let me fuck you." 

With that, he snaps forward until he's once buried to the hilt. Fangs prickle across your shoulder blade when he lowers his maw to your skin. Each heavy exhale through his nose leaves a scorching mark over your flesh until it's blistered and raw. 

He sets a brutal pace, and each time he sinks in deep, you feel something inside of you splinter, break. It's unlike anything, anything, you'd ever felt before—a liquid pleasure and pain that melts together into burning heat. It feels like euphoria and punishment in the same breath: an equilibrium of salvation and condemnation.   

Each growl that leaves his heaving chest shakes the cobwebs from between your ribs, and fills them with ash and smoke. It seeps into your bloodstream, poisoning you with each harsh stroke. 

(You forgot that he was poisonous—)

But it's too late. 

Lost in the delirious cloud of heat, ozone, and John, all you can do is wrap your tiny hands around the thick of his forearm, nails barely leaving a mark on his thick pelt, and cling to him as he takes what you offered with greedy claws, and gluttonous eyes, pounding you into his bed of furs, and stolen gems and gold. Treasure toppled to the ceiling of the cavern they warned you to stay away from. The precious clutch of a monster who protects his wares with fire and madness. Raining wrath and fury, white-hot rage and red-hot desperation, down on anyone who dares to get close. 

It's too much, too much, but you knew what you were getting into when you tried to barter with him.

("Let's make a deal—"

And he'd said, "you must be desperate. Don't you know what I am—"

His noctilucent eyes burned in the dark. 

Mocking. Cruel. Hungry.)

All you can do now is hope, somehow, that you make out in a single piece. That all your vibrating atoms stay whole; intact. That you don't lose yourself inside the madness of heat, and burning fire. 

That you'll make it out, alive.

—if, of course, he lets you go—

But those hopes are dashed when his molten tongue flickers out, laving a burning path across your neck. 

"You'll look so good in all my gold," he snarls, a thundershock right into your core. 

And then he sinks his fangs into your neck. 

You should have known from the start when he looked at you with hunger, rapacious greed in his keen, sharp eyes that you were not leaving his den again. 

(The most precious piece in his hoard.)

Your body is a wicker pyre made to be burned. From the charred ashes, something new will rise. A phoenix trapped in the paws of a beast who likes pretty, shiny things, and will never let go. 

(And really, what else did you expect when you decided to tempt a dragon?)

[eliima141]

Part two of Dragon!Price and Deer!Reader

Warnings!: nsfw, age gaps, breeding, two cock price, cubby/thick reader.

Im gonna try more fluff this time. :3

• Since Price is used to nesting and being around female dragons he would so try to get Reader to nest as well, mixing their cultures together.

• Price’s favorite positions are lazy positions. The two of you being comfortable together while he rams into Readers tiny little cunt. Making them easily cock drunk from how deep the angle was. Specially in spooning positions since he could have more control of your legs, being able to move them up and down to hit your gummy little spots.

•Price the type of guy to over do foreplay. Kissing Reader for at least 12 minutes before finally trailing kisses down readers neck and jaw, putting his giant leg between your legs to grind your cubby pussy against it. Taunting you as you leave a wet spot on the pant of his knee.

•Before he started courting you he was never much of munch. Yea sure he would give the laddies he did before you tons of pleasure but going down on them and lapping their folds with his tongue? He didn’t see the appeal. until Reader came into his forest, well How could he not? They were so sweet smelling and soft, even better is that they had a fat fucking pussy. Who in their right mind would refuse to be in between thighs like theirs? It was like trying to find a treasure between their thick folds, sucking on readers clit and tonguing her gooey hole. The satisfaction was unbeatable when he made Reader cum on his face for the first time. He was good with his cock and hands but being able to suck on Readers cunt was something new, like a new level being unlocked. Ever since then his beard has been getting more and more bleached every time he’s off of deployment. 141 teases him for it, his dark brown beard and mustache slowly getting streaks of red, orange and other colors into the mix around his mouth.

• Price can and will make you black out during sex, specially near his ruts, he gets more energy in to actually fuck you like a mad man. Gripping your hips before slamming you down onto his cock, readjusting and then shoving you into a mating press. And shit, his ruts are even worse, monthly ruts, lasting for about 3 days to a week. Since Reader starting dating price they had become a regular at the towns furniture store due to how many couches and beds they break on a monthly. The poor wall having dents, scratches and holes where ever they place the bed frame. Whatever at least they know what room to not put their kids in. Might as well sound proof the place due to how loud they fuck.

•Price has a breeding kink no doubt. First time he ever got to touch you he imagined what you would be like pregnant, such a tiny thing waddling around with a giant belly full of little dragon and deer hybrids.

•I dont think dragon price would be one to dabble in much aftercare. Washing your little body after scenting and marking you all over? Why would he do that? He already does his best to make sure you stink of his scent. Cumming in your lotion to have a tad of that scent, rubbing his scent glands over any part of you at any given second, when your not around spilling your clean clothes onto the bed, then instantly laying on them, making sure he it had been a few hours since he showered. But price would care for you, not leaving you cold and alone, cuddling you. almost whining when getting up to get you some fruit and water maybe some pain killers depending on the type of session.

[gomzdrawfr]

龍年福臨，財源滾滾！！

prosperity and good fortune from the Year of Dragon

HUAT AHHHHHHHHH

HENG AHHHHHH

ONG AAAAHHHHHH

[konigsblog]

okay hear me out….dragon!price

oh, anon... i'm hearing you out 🤭

hybrid

running your fingertips along his scales whine he pins you down, snarling at you for being soo disobedient! you tried to escape him, leave him without his precious mortal; his prized possession. he's definitely so, so possessive of you, always expecting the best.

bearing his teeth at you, sharp claws digging into your flesh, pulling you towards his face while dragging his rough tongue up from your hole to your sensitive clit. he sucks your pussy until you're wet enough, before fucking his veiny, scaled shaft into your dripping arousal !!!

you pant, breathless. dragon!price isn't gentle with you, despite how fragile you are in his grasp. pushing his broad hips against yours, drooling at the sensation of your tightening, pulsing gummy walls wrapped around his thick, hot girth.

a moan leaving your lips as you throw your head back, his weeping tip pushed right up against your womb, bruising it as he pounds into you, biting you softly and gripping your hair with his clawed hands, just to look into those wet, desperate eyes.

[hero-hoe]

Oh my. Seems I forgot to post a chapter announcement here yesterday. Whoopsie ♡

Chapter 17 of ISatTA is out !!♡ chapter spoilers below the cut for those who don't want them. Thank you for being patient♡♡

This chapter deals with: character death, familial death, brief feelings of isolation, and food hesitancy. There is also fluff and an fair amount of caretaking at the end. ♡

[idontknow991]

THIS IS NOT MY USUAL CONTENT IF I EVEN CAN SAY THAT- BUT I DESPERATELY NEED HELP SO IM CALLING OUT TO ALL THE WATTPAD, COD, FANFIC, SERIES EXPERTS!!

I DESPERATELY NEED A FANFIC ABOUT COD PREFERABLY DRAGON!PRICE ON EITHER WATTPAD OR HERE ON TUMBLR!!! AND I MYSLEF CANT FIND ANY BC WATTPAD HATES ME 💀😭

PLS SENDDDDDDDDDDDDDD THEM DRAGON!PRICE FICS TO MEEEEE AND I WOULD FOREVER OWE YOU 😭😂

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader

You were not expecting anything from this new placement. You knew better now a days, have been on the system since day 1, and at this point? You know better than to hope.

Usually the houses you ended up in were all mediocre at best. Foster parents that already had their own children were the most neglectful homes, even to their own children. Which also resulted in bad blood between the foster kids and the biological kids.

And worst of all, you were human. Just a simple, small, defenseless human stuck in the foster system. Usually, they try to match human kids with human foster parents. But, humans were not a big part of the population, in fact, different kind of hybrids were the biggest part of the population.

And now, failed attempts after failed attempts, you got transfered to a neighbor city (not for the first time), and this time, to a hybrid pack househood. It wasn't your first time with hybrids, but it was always a little scary. They were strangers, and adult hybrids were SO much bigger than humans. Especially a human your age, with your small size thanks to lack of care throughout the years.

Hybrids were bigger, stronger, scarier... still, you knew it couldn't be worse than some houses you have been in before, or at least, that's what you're telling yourself. Not that your social worker was helping with your anxiety, as the old bear hybrid woman gave you some information about your new foster family. They were a big pack, which was a concept you already had difficulty to grasp. Pack doesn't always mean the nuclear family, but could also mean family friends, or sometimes, just relatives. As a human, hearing the word "pack", or "hoard", or "coven", or whatever else they could use to name their little groups, always left you a little confused.

They were four hybrid parents, a Dragon, a Werewolf, a Harpy and a Wraith. They were all part of the military, special forces or something, and they had a lot of children already, children that were already adults and had moved out some time ago. They were taking fosters now, and accordingly to your social worker, they were delightful and very nurturing parents.

You don't know what to think of that.

So all you could do was hold tightly to your beated backpack straps as your social worker excitedly introduced you to four hybrid men in their big house, giant hybrid men with so many muscles, and why is everyone so big and buff?? You knew they were military before, but god dammit, they could crush you with one hand. Here to hoping you don't annoy them to that point.

You weren't really making eye contact, keeping your eyes to the ground as you heard your social worker talk to the new fosters, but still, you would peak at them every couple of seconds or so, just to assess how they were reacting to your presence.

The dragon, one of the biggest hybrids you have ever seen, had that kinda of... respectful and mature face, smart eyes that went between you and the social worker as he nodded along to what she was saying. He was standing still, arms crossed lightly, and just one big wing carefully drapped behind his back. He smiled lightly, trying to keep casual and confortable to the new people, avoiding staring at you too much, no matter how much he wanted to.

The harpy, that was standing by the dragon's side, had such a gentle smile on his face that you avoided looking at his face again after the first peak. Gentle eyes, gentle smile, gentle demeanour. His giant, featherly wings, were also carefully tucked behind his back, almost as if to make himself smaller. Tho, it didn't help your anxiety as you saw how his feet looked like... not feet, in fact, talons.

The werewolf, a weird guy with a mohawk for christ sake, didn't even try to hide it how much he was staring. Big eyes on top of you, tail wagging a bit too fast behind him as his wolf ears perked up and moved as the social worker talked. Still, his eyes were just on you, assessing your small and timid demeanour, how truly small a human could be, how defenseless you looked.

The wraith wasn't that different either. Staring at your face with a stoic and passive look, even tho a balaclava with some skull prints covered most of his face besides the eyes, that had some... shadowy thing around them. He was the biggest, looked bigger and buffer than the dragon, at least, and was also staring directly at you. He almost forgot how pathetic humans could be.

All of them were caught a little of guard, actually.

You were small, already small for a human, but for hybrids? Almost like a little kid. Humans rarely build much muscle throughout their teens too, so you looked like a skinny little thing, differently from how other races' kids worked. You looked like a small, young child, but even their little kids had some kind of protection. Sharp teeths, or shap claws, or sharp talons, or any kind of ability that could defend themselves.

You had nothing of the sort. You didn't have any nails, basically, short as they were in a small and delicate little hand. Feet tucked safely inside your round little sneakers, feet that, of course, wouldn't have any talons, and were delicate enough to have to stay protected by shoes. Your teeth were round and flat, looked so small too, just like your short tongue. You were soft, all soft and small and delicate. Just like a human is compared to hybrids.

Johnny had to control himself not to coo at the sight as you gently licked your uper lip and quietly fidget in place, slightly behind the big bear hybrid that was your social worker. They had a lot of kids, and he was there since all of them were a baby, but since they were all hybrids, seeing a small little thing like you, unprotected and without any kind of abilities... it made something stirr inside of him.

All of the others were in the same boat, to be fair. Parental instincts going into high overdrive just by looking at you. John was just trying his best to pretend he wasn't that effected since he still needed to pay attention to the social worker, and Kyle was making a good job of discreetly nudging Johnny and Simon so they could stop staring so hard at you.

"So, if any trouble arises, you can always call me. Even if it's just questions, anything you might be worried about, i'll help you out. Is that okay?" "Perfectly fine, ma'am." The dragon immediatly answers, smiling neutrally as he nods.

"Yeah, this isn't our first time doing this." The harpy jokes slightly, charming smile on his face as he makes your social worker laugh a little bit with him.

"I know it isn't, boys, but it is your first time taking care of a human." She points out, a small smile on her face despite the serious tone. "They are not the same as hybrids, you know that."

"Of course. We're going to be very careful with them, don't worry." The dragon immediatly goes to sooth her worries, nodding easily.

"As i hope. Please, call me if you need anything! And, good luck, boys!"

Now, it's just you and your four new foster parents.

[writeforfandoms]

HI YES HELLO COULD I PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE REQUEST FOR SOME MORE GLITTER AND GOLD CRUMBS PLEASE <3

Haha okay, have some crumbs!

Warnings: blood and injury, mention of healing, reader is still pregnant.

--

You weren't surprised when you woke without John. Sometimes he needed to go, and that was fine. You had run of the place (except for Kyle's room) all the time, after all.

Kyle had taken the room closest to the kitchen. It had taken a bit of doing (and some grumbling from your dragon as he got a few necessary supplies) but he was comfortable here now. Plus he made bread for you. Which just made everything better.

"Morning," you greeted him, smiling.

"Good morning," he returned, setting a plate in front of you. It was simple food, but he cooked, which was much better than the alternative (you could not cook).

The two of you got through breakfast and had just begun discussing plans for the day when you heard wingbeats. John was back. You hopped off your chair (ignoring Kyle's huff of amusement behind you) and headed towards the stairs.

But John surprised you. He came in the castle entrance. And he was carrying a man - big, blonde, and bloodied.

"What happened?" you asked, eyes wide, hand pressed to your belly.

"Found him like this," John grunted. "Some idiots thought they could use my territory as a dumping ground." His teeth shone in the light as he bared them in a grin. "I taught them otherwise."

"Is he...?" You couldn't quite ask the question.

"Still alive," John grunted. "Don't worry, princess. Kyle can handle this." He stepped past you carefully, carrying the stranger further into the castle.

You followed. Because you'd always been bad at keeping your nose out of things.

Kyle and John worked quietly together to bind the stranger's many injuries and make him as comfortable as possible. After the third time he removed you, John gave up and let you watch from the doorframe.

You helped as you could, bringing in water and taking away cloths to be cleaned.

The stranger slept for a few days, restless and feverish. Kyle kept an eye on him, but he wasn't a healer.

So when the stranger finally opened his eyes, clear and lucid, you couldn't help but be relieved.

"Easy," you murmured to him, getting up to get him some water. "Here."

He gulped down the water, bits of it splashing on his skin. He looked around quickly as he did, clearly wary. "Where...?" he started, slow and rough.

"My home. Well. Ours, really." You shrugged. "You're safe here, my husband brought you here to heal up."

"Husband." He repeated the word slowly, brow furrowing. He winced as the motion tugged on some of the scabs on his face.

"Mmhm. You'll see him again soon, I'm sure." You rubbed your hand over your belly, soothing yourself. This poor man wasn't a threat. He didn't even look like he could pick up a kitten right now.

Brown eyes settled on you again and he tipped his head slightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." You smiled, easy and warm. "Are you hungry? I think Kyle's working on some soup."

Which was how Simon joined your little group. It took a while for him to heal, and when he did, he was left with scars. None of you cared much, especially after having seen his recovery, but he hated seeing himself. So you gave him a few scarves to wrap around the bottom half of his face.

Simon didn't leave. Didn't show any inclination towards leaving. If anything, he hovered, uncertain, near you.

You couldn't figure out why until you "accidentally" overheard him talking to John.

"Can't go back," Simon said softly, like he was agreeing with something John had said. "Don't want to impose here."

John snorted. "Then don't," he said, firm but not unkind. "Work for it."

There was silent for a few long moments and then a soft hum of agreement. "What needs doing?"

"Kyle is in charge of the daily things," John said. "Saw you had a sword. You any good with it?"

"I am."

"Good. You can keep an eye on my princess, then." There was a brief pause before John continued, low and pleasantly threatening. "If anything happens to her or my child, I will take it out of your hide."

"Understood." Simon, to his credit, didn't sound scared. Only accepting.

"Good." John sounded pleased. "I'll bring you anything you need."

You snuck away again before you could get caught.

Well, well, well. Looked like Simon was here to stay. Your own little kingdom was growing stronger.

[pricescigar]

Even though I'm still finishing Bodyguard!Price I will also begin to post Dragon!Price, so you will be given a variety as when the future chapters of Bodygard!Price will come out. :)

[pierkyn]

SIR ARE YOU FREE ON TUESDAY

AND he has a skelly friend???

Me rn:

[kuoru]

Poppies and bones

[vaguely-concerned]

rook falling asleep on the red couch in the lighthouse dining room while lucanis is making dinner....... they were helping out by keeping him company and peeling and chopping potatoes for a while there but then the potatoes are done and the room is so safe and warm and smells like coffee and good food and lucanis is trying to explain something to spite and his voice is low and soft and good to listen to and rook's eyes only slip closed for a moment. they'll get up to save the world again or whatever in a second just. one moment. while the world is warm and kind. and then they're being shaken gently awake an hour later because it's time to eat and everyone's starting to drift hopefully dinner-wards