#they are invasive in the us but now this one is a pet

[jasminedrawsshit]

Meet severus the snail! Yes I am that big of a snape fan lol. I found him by mistake by a lake bank after fishing and I thought he was just a empty shell. But I decided to bring him home and we got him his own lil tank. He's a very active dude for being definitely max size for his species and hasn't stopped moving since around 8 or 9 lol. He looks black out of water as indicated by the one picture and that's one of the reasons I chose the name for him other than being a stan of snape. Anyhow I love the dude

[lotusbxtch]

Juno

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader Word count: 2.2k (lol this was supposed to be a drabble) Rating: Explicit - 18+, MDNI

Summary: Your honeymoon with Joel is off to a bang.

Warnings/tags: honeymoon sex (it’s very feral), unprotected PIV sex (they’re trying to get pregnant but be smart IRL!), oral sex (m and f receiving), big fat breeding kink, pussy pronouns, creampie, cumplay, mentions of foreplay over the clothes, sort-of/accidental voyeurism, very loud sex, rough sex, mentions of marriage/family planning/birth control use, dom!Joel, feral!Joel, references to pregnancy, no outbreak!AU, cursing (but honestly swear words should be the least of your worries for this story lol), Reader is female, has hair that is long enough to put into a ponytail, and able bodied but otherwise not described (it’s you, boo!), no use of y/n

a/n: This is what happens when a horny invasive thought is allowed to take root in my brain. My darling menace @for-a-longlongtime sent me this Reel and it made me… think about things. Combined with the inspiration of the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter, this is FILTH. Just… filth. But since @mountainsandmayhem and @alltheirdamn literally begged me to write this, here you are, written in a near-fugue state. Not beta’d, we’re doing this thing unprotected, just like Joel lmao. Banners by @saradika-graphics.

MASTERLIST

a/n pt 2: psssssst. Do you like Joel Miller? Do you want *more* Joel Miller? How about a series where not only Joel is your husband, but Frankie is your boyfriend? If so, tap here for SoCal to NorCal, my ongoing series!

I should have closed that damn sliding door.

You knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as you stepped foot into the immaculate, stylish Greek vacation suite you’d booked for your honeymoon with your new husband, Joel Miller. You’d spent the long flight teasing each other incessantly - the lightest of caresses, lingering kisses, surreptitious groping and heavy petting under the luxe blankets afforded to you by your first class seats. Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you most days, but now, fresh from your beautiful wedding as his darling wife? He was absolutely insatiable.

Joel had barely shut the front door on the endlessly kind bellhop before he was on you, ravenous with desire. His large hands began peeling off the soft layers of clothing you’d worn on the airplane, kissing you fervently and moaning into your mouth. You wove your fingers through your hair, tugging lightly when he kissed down your neck. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whined, and you felt him growl lowly before nipping at your pulse point.

“Been waiting hours to take you apart, baby,” he murmured. Sucking a hickey onto the column of your throat, he laved the spot with his tongue to soothe the light pain. “Teasing me when you knew I couldn’t do shit about it.”

You pulled back on his hair with a yank, making him hiss. “You asked for it. You were the one rubbing circles against my clit through my sweatpants. My panties are ruined because of it.”

“Not my fault your pussy is so juicy,” Joel chuckled. “Especially now that she knows she’s gonna getting dicked down as many times as she can take it in a day.”

A couple months before your wedding, you and Joel discussed your desire to start trying for children. You’d thrown away your birth control after that conversation, but resolved to use other forms of protection until after the wedding.

You nor Joel had packed a single condom for this trip.

“Fuck me, Mr. Miller,” you breathed, moving your hand from his hair down his body to his rock-hard cock. He groaned when you made contact.

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Miller,” Joel hummed, walking your naked body backwards towards the bedroom as you pulled at his clothes.

Now, you’re realizing that the sliding door to the ocean-view balcony is cracked open, allowing a lovely coastal breeze in but also letting your cries of pleasure float into the wind. Joel’s face is buried in your drenched pussy from behind you, his slurps and smacks obscene, not to mention his moans of ecstasy at the taste of your juices. You lay your chest onto the bed and take it - that’s all you can really do. You’re trying to stifle your sighs and moans, but your husband’s expert tongue is making that increasingly difficult.

“Oh god, right there,” you whimper, and your first orgasm of the day rolls through your body slowly, unfurling like the fragrant blossoms in the white-washed courtyard of the villa. He continues moaning and lapping up every drop of your essence while your body shakes.

One more hard suck on your clit, and then Joel is pulling you back onto your hands and knees on the plush cream bedding. He crawls towards your body, grabbing your hips with one warm hand while the other loosely grips his shaft, rubbing the head of his cock through your folds. 

You whine. “Please, Joel.” You’re not above begging when it comes to Joel’s cock.

Joel growls in arousal and begins to feed you his length, inch by inch. You bite your lip, trying to quiet the involuntary moans that the stretch of his girth seem to rip out of your throat. The villa is private, but you still have neighbors - you’d rather not have to face them at the dinner buffet later after they heard exactly how well your honeymoon was going so far.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock so well,” Joel praises you, his eyes never leaving how good his length looks sawing in and out of your soft pussy, shiny with your slick. The phrasing makes your cunt clench on him, which nearly shoves him off the proverbial ledge. He throws his head back, attempting to collect himself, and then notices you drawing circles around your aching clit. 

“Desperate to come again already?” he questions, quirking an eyebrow at you. You nod your head, pressing harder and swirling faster around your nub. 

“Then fucking come for your husband,” Joel grits out, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust of his hips. On the last word, you explode yet again, burying your mouth in the crook of your elbow to quiet your cries. Your pussy spasms over his length, nearly sending him over the edge, and you’re absolutely gushing for him, slick and juices running down your thighs.

Joel yanks himself out of your body, not ready to come yet. You cry out in disappointment, but he hauls him and yourself up off the bed.

“Kneel,” he commands. You drop to your knees onto the plush sheepskins rug, legs like jelly already. His hard cock bobs in front of your face, coated with the evidence of your orgasm. Your mouth opens and you drop out your tongue like a welcome mat.

Joel nearly comes at the sight before him.

“Suck,” he says simply. Grabbing your hair into a ponytail, Joel guides your blazing hot mouth onto his shaft, controlling the speed of your blowjob with his hands. He tries to avoid thrusting into your throat too hard, but he knows you like it rough. The taste of your own pussy is all over his dick, and it makes you dizzy with need.

You play the good girl, sucking and licking as directed by Joel’s moans and hand, but soon enough he’s hauling you off your feet to put you back onto the bed. His cock is an angry red color at the tip now, precum continuing to bubble out of the slit. 

“Wanna try out something new,” he mutters, laying you down on your back. He pushes your legs to your shoulders, nearly folding you in half, and guides your hands to the back of your thighs to hold them open. You feel so exposed, but it makes a thrill run up your spine. Joel kneels with his knees just under your ass, leaning over you, before taking his hand and running it through your soaked folds, reveling in the filthy wet sounds your center makes for him. You whine, desperate for more. Joel places your calves on his shoulders as he leans forward, caging you with his body. One hand drops to the bed to steady himself, while the other grabs his cock and lines himself up again.

“Have you ever tried this one?” Joel asks you with a smirk.

You smile wickedly back, knowing what you need to say to egg him on. “Can’t say I have. Wasn’t exactly trying to get bred.”

You see Joel’s eyes flash at the last word, a ferality burning in his irises. A near-snarl erupts from his mouth as he bottoms out in one powerful thrust. A loud moan rips from your throat, and you slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, remembering the balcony door is still open. Joel shoves your hand away, grinding deeper into your cunt, brushing against your cervix. You can barely breathe with the intensity of pleasure racing in your veins.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back home, eliciting another loud cry from you. “If you wanna be bred so bad, I’m gonna make everyone at this resort know exactly how much you want it.” With that, Joel sets a punishing pace, his hips and balls slapping against your slick skin. The wet sounds of your mutual pleasure ricochet through the room, and probably outdoors. In this position, all you can do is lay there and moan and cry and take it. Your pussy continues seeping slick, wave after wave running down your ass and thighs, dampening the heavenly bedding.

You’ve never been so fucking wet in your entire life, and Joel knows it.

“God, this pussy is so fucking juicy for me, huh? Just want to get bred that bad, huh?” He mutters to you as he fucks into you so deep that you nearly feel him in your throat. You’ve long since lost your ability to silence your noises, a steady stream of loud gasps and cries emanating from your mouth. Joel just feels so fucking good inside of you, and suddenly you start babbling.

“Yes, baby, I’m so fucking wet for you,” you moan, the pleasure coiling in your bones with every thrust of Joel’s thick girth inside you. “You’re so deep, you fill me so good, don’t stop don’t stop don’t stooooopppppppp –” Your words are cut off by a silent scream as you come for a third time. The pleasure shimmers across your limbs and a shaky moan finally snakes its way out of your throat.

He growls, fucking into you even harder. “Good fucking girl, let me hear you,” Joel grits out. He picks up his pace, clearly getting close to his own orgasm. The increase in speed releases a surprised scream from you, your loud cry stuttering from the sheer force of Joel’s thrusts into you. His hips are a blur, and your third orgasm begins to build into your fourth, the intensity ratcheted to new heights.

“That’s right, scream for me,” he moans, his thrusts getting erratic as his peak approaches. “Want me to fill up this messy pussy, get it even messier? Gonna fuck you so full it has no choice but to take.”

Joel’s words cause a riot of tingles to cascade across your skin. “Yes, please, fuck me full, Joel. Give me your cum, make it stick, give me a baby, please,” you cry, and Joel slaps your ass hard, and you scream again. There’s no doubt that everyone within a mile radius can hear the two of you, but your head is so full of pleasure that you really couldn’t care less. All you can think about is Joel, his cock, and how badly you want to be dripping with his cum.

“Oh god, honey, I’m gonna come,” Joel whimpers, and to send him over the edge, you clench down on his cock as hard as you can. He gasps. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna cooooooo–”

Joel shoves his cock as deeply into you as possible, bellowing loudly in ecstasy, triggering your own orgasm to crest at the same time. His release is so intense that it feels like his hot cum is jettisoning directly into your uterus, filling you to the brim. He pumps shallowly into you, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When the last spurt of his spend lands in your womb, Joel collapses on top of you, rolling you to the side, still buried within your clutch. Your sweat-slick limbs tangle as you both try to catch your breath. The gentle breeze flutters the curtains.

Everything feels hazy and perfect.

Eventually you come to, pressing kisses to Joel’s completely blissed-out face, eliciting a soft smile across his plush lips. You kiss your husband softly, slowly, and sensually. He gives your nose a peck, and then buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent deeply.

“Fuck, that was…” Joel starts, lost for words to describe what just happened.

“... incredible,” you finish his sentence, beaming at him. You intertwine your fingers, so elated that Joel is really yours forever.

Joel nods and kisses you one more time, then moves to untangle your aching limbs, massaging your muscles with his strong hands. He pulls out of your messy center slowly with a groan, watching as his cum begins to seep out of you. You watch as he scoops away the runaway seed, pushing it back into your cunt. A brief flush of arousal pulses in your veins at the sight.

“Gotta keep it where it belongs,” Joel croons, winking at you as he walks towards the bathroom to rinse off and grab you a towel. You giggle, moving to prop your legs and hips up on your pillows, allowing his release to pool & settle inside you. The idea of finally having a baby with the love of your life makes your insides flutter with joy.

While you rest, you pull up Snapchat, curious to see what other fellow travelers are up to in the area. You tap around the map, watching stranger’s stories of sailing excursions, lounging on the shore, and eating delicious food. You notice a Snap story in the same vacation complex as your rental, and you tap on it excitedly, hoping to get a sense of some fun things to do in the area.

The video opens up in selfie mode as a blonde, sunglasses-wearing traveler records himself outside on his villa’s patio, laughing quietly and rubbing his arm awkwardly with the caption “Sounds like our new neighbors on holiday in Greece are having a whale of a time… Only been here 10 minutes!” In the background, a woman can be heard screaming with ecstasy, clearly having sex, her voice stuttering as whoever she’s fucking is giving it to her hard. You then hear a slap, then another cry of pleasure.

Wait a minute.

Not a slap… a spank.

Your nerves frost immediately and heat blazes up your neck as your mouth drops open, realizing that the couple having very loud sex… is actually you and Joel.

Oh no. 

...I REALLY should have closed that damn sliding door.

MASTERLIST

Tagging in case you, too, are horny for Joel (please let me know if you'd like to be removed from the tags!): @mermaidgirl30 @sin-djarin @perotovar @qveerthe0ry @nerdieforpedro

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @yxtkiwiyxt @almostempty @almostfoxglove @guiltyasdave

@legendary-pink-dot @arcanefox207 @dancingtotuyo @musings-of-a-rose @milla-frenchy

@yopossum @polaroidpascal @chippedowlmug @magneticecstasy @reggiesfilthylittlesecret

[lalunanymph]

WHERE THE DATURAS BLOOM

syp. they sent her to tarus to die as a mockery to him, the fiend—offering a fragile, pitiful thing who can barely stand on her own two feet, as if her weakness would be his downfall. yet, they never knew the strength she found, nor the love that bloomed in her heart where the daturas dared to grow, once she opened her arms and heart to the fearsome dragon.

tags. sacrificial bride!reader, injuries, blood, heavy angst, fluff, healing, explicit smut, tail sucking, nipple play, mentions of lactation, oral sex, light restraints using a dragon tail, virginity loss, biting, marking, pet names (sweetness, kitten, little one), monsterfucking, two dicks!Sylus, breeding, mild cumflation, cockwarming, double peneration, mentions of anal, nesting, dragon senses, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of drugging, kidnapping, torture, mentions of miscarriage, near death experience, severe injuries, visual impairment, mind control, gore, language, tension, fluff, romance, soft!sylus, flashbacks, spoilers for beyond cloudfall myth, happy ending, 20k+ word count

Those who stare at the abyss will find the abyss staring back. 

The old adage rings in your head as the rocky walls close in on you, blood seeping from your open wounds and dripping onto the floor.

Thunder rips through the night sky and rain splashes on your face. The sounds of shouts and jeers fill the air as the men who threw you over the ledge abandoned you to a fate worse than death. Your screams for mercy are ignored, their backs turned on the sacrificial bride to the Fiend. The ceremonial garbs they clad you in were little more than skimpy adornments, and you gasp, hearing a terrifying rattle in the air.

A voice fills your mind, invasive and grating, and you feel cold drafts swirling around you, beckoning you to step forward into a cave with no end in sight.

You shiver, head ringing, as the voice urges you forward—low and seductive. It echoes with the smugness of a predator finally trapping its prey.

Step closer… let me take a look at you. 

As if you’re a marionette on strings, your feet pull you forward, right to a rocky alcove where the sound of chains rattle and the glint of ruby red eyes stare at you. The air becomes suffocating, as if there’s a darkness devouring all the remaining light.

Something primal in you stirs, and you feel the first flickers of light forming in your hand, right where your pulse is jumping erratically.

I like your face. 

The dark, hollow voice seems to come from nowhere and yet everywhere at the same time. You catch the glimmer of chains, the weak light illuminating the hilt of a broadsword stuck in a muscular, powerful chest.

Take it out… free me…

The unknown voice compels you, and in a fit of panic, you grab the hilt and yank with all of your might. Once the sword is free, it transforms into hot light, and you feel a jolt go through your heart, like lightning striking through a stormy, night sky. 

The sword disappears and a terrifying roar fills the chamber, rocking the walls and throwing you off your feet. You barely have time to stand when a sudden force sweeps you to the ground, and you’re left reeling. 

Staring up into a pair of crimson, insidious eyes, your heart sinks down into your stomach like a stone capsizing into the middle of a murky lake. Before you, the abyss stares back.

“You… you…”

The realization that you’ve been fooled renders you faint, and your breathing stutters, heart pounding almost painfully in your chest.

You’ve done the unthinkable: you have released the Fiend of the Abyss, and now… 

Now, you are his prey. 

Fear claws at your throat as the hulking figure takes a massive step towards you, dark red energy rolling like mist behind him, trickling from his right eye.

You’re shaking, vision going blurry. The Fiend opens his mouth, revealing rows of what looks like sharp teeth.

Terror engulfs you, sticky and thick, stiffening your joints and with a sharp inhale, you crumple to the ground, the world and your impending death fading out into black. 

—

The scent of fresh blood is in the air.

He sits silently on his throne of gold and lies, scaly ears flickering for the first signs of the sacrifice approaching. His leathery wings quiver in anticipation, the tip of his draconian tail twitching as he sniffs the air, the unmistakable tang of liquid rust filling his nose. The Fiend stretches and his nostrils flare, the sinews of his back and legs quivering. It’s been centuries since he’s last had a chance to extend his limbs. After all, chains and a sword lodged in your chest hardly provide mercy for much motion. 

The scent grows closer, and he can hear the rattling breaths this poor creature takes. He’s been watching her for hours now, waiting for her to wake. He could attack and devour her soul in that moment, but where would the fun be?

Besides, her soul is as stale as day-old bread. Nothing of a sort which would entice him. 

The dragon waits for one beat—two—and he languidly steps off his throne. His back to the weak, sniffling creature, his instincts suddenly flare and he swiftly darts to the right when a mass of flesh lunges right at him. He parries the weak grip on a blade, his tail whipping out to grab this human by the ankles, containing the ambush. 

“Please!” 

Her voice rings past the rocky walls, bouncing off the mountains of gold and precious jewels. 

His anger flares, but not at her. He takes in the shallow cuts on her cheeks, the welts on her arms. She’s clad in a thin leather garment, her knuckles pronounced and face gaunt. 

“Who are you?” His voice is a deep rumble, one that could destroy mountains in a single roar. Her eyes are wide, the whites of them shining in the dim half-light. When she comes to the understanding that he speaks, they roll back into her skull; her body going limp in his arms.

“Wh—!”

A grunt. She bleats like an animal scared to death. 

The dragon manages to catch her before she falls. 

.

.

.

That night, the girl marked for a fate worse than death dreams about the dragon for the first time, arrow tips exploding from her flesh and a sword piercing her chest searing through her subconsciousness with pure agony. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You wrinkle your nose, turning your face away from the persistent drop of water falling right on your cheek. Shifting, your eyes fly wide open when your body meets the open air and you scream, falling to the floor in a mess of limbs. Ridges of unidentifiable hard edges jab into your body, and you groan, forcing your eyes to adjust to the lack of light. 

There, right in the heart of the cave, a pair of blood red eyes appraise you.

Your scream dies in the back of your throat when a flurry of wings slice through the stagnant air of the cave, a bulky, huge being rushing towards you and knocking you off your feet. A mass of flesh and scales envelopes you in his warmth, glints of gold flying in the air and falling like clinking rain where your bodies meet on the dirt-packed floor.

His eyes, red as blood, glisten like rubies when he scans them over your face. He parts his mouth, and the sharp edge of his canine tooth sends a shiver down your spine. The great Fiend, feared by all in Philos, the one prophesied to bring the destruction of universes from the moment he was born… is staring at you in disdain. 

“I suppose those oafs did not anticipate their idiotic sacrifice would free the Fiend of Philos.”

You are barely spared a chance to be indignant, not when his tail sweeps you up by the waist, dragging you in mid-air where you scream and flail. 

He chuckles, a low, almost human-like sound. His wings reverberate, the leathery tips of them quivering from the slight breeze his tail whips up. 

“I see fear has gripped your tongue, little one. Do not mistaken me—I despise the taste of human flesh. But, your soul…” His tongue darts out to lick at your jaw, tasting sweat and dirt. “... is what I am more interested in.” 

You shake, struggling to find something—anything—to say.

“Release me,” you stammer, and he scoffs, eyes dancing with mirth. His spiralled horns are huge on his head. Despite the sharpness of his features and the redness of those eyes, there’s a glint of mirth behind those irises, one you would never expect to find. 

Many told you before sacrificing you into the pit: The Fiend is not merciful. 

He will rip you apart limb from limb.

Those who visit his lair will never return.

You are cursed—born a blight. You shall be wed to the Fiend on the month of the blood red eclipse and you will be thankful, child. 

Their sneers tautening over teeth that look like daggers, their jeers which grate your ears like nails on a metal platform. The bite of pain in your arm as a needle slides past skin, muscle, fat and flesh—depositing liquid fatigue straight into your bloodstream. As your world went black, you woke up to more darkness, finding yourself amidst bones and rubble, right at the lip of Tarus. 

There was nothing else you could do but plant one foot right in front of the other—walking straight to your imminent death.

The dragon growls, low and dangerous, as he cocks his head to one side. 

“Who are you? And why are you in my prison?”

He waits. You struggle to move your leaden tongue.

“My name is… Y/N. I am… was… sent here as a sacrifice… a bride…”

The Fiend pauses, his eyes raking over your face. When he sees you are completely serious, he tosses his head back, a vile laugh reverberating across the walls. 

“Is that so?” He continues to chortle. “My… what delusions you humans hold.” Without warning, he sends you flying across the room with a flick of his tail, your back hitting the hard rock. You choke on a wail of pain, your teeth cutting into your tongue. Blood fills your mouth and spit out a thick, red wad onto the rocky floor.  

He is barely sorry, rising to his full height, teeth bared and chest heaving with the exertion it takes to not snap your neck and end your pathetic life.

Every step he takes rocks the ground, the power and danger he holds dripping from his half-naked body, the defined muscles coiling in tension. Ready to snap.

You think—this is it. This is what your pathetic life has amounted to. Perhaps dying would be swift. Maybe you will see your parents again; feel the warmth of their embrace, one you’ve been without for far too long, living this half-life of pain and fear. It would be nice to feel love and belonging again; you’ve gone so long without it. 

If he was expecting his prey to scream and fight, he would be sorely wrong.

You close your eyes, and tilt your head up, exposing your bare neck for him to do as he pleases.

Waiting on a merciful death to befall you. 

The dragon stops right in his tracks.

Curiously, he assesses you. Though the scent of fear is in the air, the look on your face is nothing short of resignation. 

A far cry from any living being with a defense mechanism. 

The sight of you is almost pathetic, tugging at his heartstrings: your eyes twitching, breathing jagged. He gets close enough to scent your pheromones in the air, and he recoils in disgust. 

She stinks, he thinks, narrowing his blood-red eyes. Is this really the best sacrifice they could offer him? Surely they know that even locked away for an eternity, a dragon still has standards. 

The closer he gets to you, the more he sees how young and afraid you are. From your trembling hands to your rapidly rising and falling chest, there is not a bone in your body that wishes to survive.

How terribly dull, he thinks. And also how incredibly sad.

What beatings did you endure to drive you to this state? What words did they spit at you to break your soul? He takes in the color of your hair, your eyes. How different and perturbing you are to other humans. A sign of the damned. 

Poor, pathetic little creature… he shakes his head. The myths were wrong. He doesn’t have the stomach for human blood—never did—and if you weren’t meant as fodder for food, surely those bastards above thought you would be the perfect mate for him.

The damned and the broken.

A love story as old as time.

He snorts inwardly and gets onto one knee, gently running the edge of his talon down your cheek, using the sharp edge to tilt your face upward. 

“Look at me, little one,” he rumbles.

You immediately comply, eyes flying wide open. The dragon takes a moment to gaze at you, drinking you in. He sees the effects of malnourishment hanging from the exhaustion in your eyes—knows you haven’t eaten for days, surviving purely on adrenaline and fear.

His tail snakes closer, grazing the small of your back. It would be so easy to kill you—a bit more pressure of his tail piercing past your flesh, and the scaly, sharp tip could rip your heart from the inside out. 

He takes in your shallow breathing, how your wide eyes never leave him. Even confronted by death, you still face it head-on.

What a brave, little fool.

He opens his mouth, about to offer you something to eat or drink, when your hands move to your thigh strap, a flurry of motion he almost doesn’t catch until the blade is right at his throat. The Fiend grits his teeth, and with a swift flick of his tail, knocks the pathetic knife from your hand.

Swiftly, he grabs your wrists, rolling you to the ground and pinning them over your head, breathing hard in your face. 

“You really do know how to put on a good show, little one,” he growls. “Did you think that blade would stand a chance against me?” 

“I—”

He silences you with another low, warning growl. “You have committed the most foul move… hmm.” Pretending to ponder, he runs the sharp tip of his talon over your chin, watching your eyes widen with fear as a drop of blood trickles down your neck. “What can I do with an errant human? Let me see…”

“Please,” you’re shaking, tears in your eyes. 

The dragon fights back the urge to roll his eyes. A part of him wants to see how long it would take to break you down and get you begging for your life, but the other part of him simply finds your pleas to be a grating distraction in the silence of his lair.

He lets you go and you gasp shakily. 

“Thank you—”

“Spare me any pleasantries.” 

His powerful tail pushes you far from him, though he noticeably doesn’t throw you against walls anymore. 

“Keep your distance from me. Do not step in front of me and for the love of all things holy in Philos—” he glances at your torn up wedding garb, noting the scratches on your bare thighs and how matted the skimpy leather is. “Take a bath. You reek.” 

Parting words which leave you gaping in indignation. He spreads his wings and takes off to the highest alcove of the cave, where you have no doubt of his eyes following your every move. 

Quietly, you stand and retreat into the coldest part of the cave, hugging your knees to your chest.

This is all an unholy nightmare. Nothing about this—about him—is real… this shall all pass… you try to soothe yourself, taking in steadying breaths. 

This, too, shall pass.

Except, this nightmare is not one you can ever wake from. 

When you open your eyes to the bleak morning rays bouncing off the cave walls, your heart drops right to your stomach. Scrambling to sit up, you glance around, trying to find a sign of the dragon who had nearly taken your life yesterday. But, you only notice mountains of gold as far as the eye can see. A lair full of treasures rich from kingdoms far beyond your reach. You marvel at goblets with inscriptions in languages you have never seen before, run your fingers over delicate edges of gold coins, and pick one ruby up to the light, watching the morning rays bounce off the rich red facets.

From above, you hear a rustling, and the edge of his dragon’s tail dangles from an alcove. The strange beast who resides here appears to be fast asleep. Since you cannot leave this pit without alerting the rest of the villagers of your escape, the only thing you can do is fend for yourself. You arm your body with swords that boast jewel-encrusted hilts, take a ruby blade in your hand and tighten a thick silk cloak around your neck. 

You were going to escape from this hellhole one way or another. 

You would never give up your life this easily.

Plotting your next move meticulously, you slice through the silk rope and glance up at the opening of the mountain, calculating that it must be around a few feet high. While you didn’t have wings like a dragon, you had a mortal’s will to live.

Days passed with you stringing the cut ends of the cloak together, and when that wasn’t enough, you tore down the dragon’s gold curtains, attaching the shorn slivers to make a single, long rope. 

Through it all, the dragon keeps his eyes firmly on you, a reminder of how you used to watch a tiny kitten trying to clear a 10 foot wall back in the Sanctuary. The young cat never surrendered, never backed down, and you remember watching as it tumbled back to the ground again and again, always springing back to its feet for another round.

Bruises and scrapes litter your knees and palms with every failed attempt. But, you persist. 

Once you manage to scale the first few feet, the act of putting one foot in front of the other gets easier. You’re weak and hungry, but the hollow ache is no match for the fire in your soul needing to be set free. You will take the riches you acquired from this dragon’s lair and run away from this cursed land as far as your feet can take you—the Ivory City will be a memory left behind in your shadows.

But, what you never notice is how the dragon has moved from studying you to shadowing you. The lair is vast, full of gold, and yet, he is bored out of his wits. You barely sense his restlessness, and only when you manage to breach the top circle of the rocky cliff face, do you feel a brush of air whipping past your entire body, your hair flying right into your face. 

The surge of wind propels you up the last few feet of the rocky lip and you tumble onto the ground, coughing up dust. Brushing gravel and pebbles from your palms and knees, you shakily stand on your own feet. 

Before you, Tarus City stretches out like an ebony beast. Revelry and smoke rises to the sky, dim, greasy lights sparing the backdrop some semblance of humanity within this realm of evil and sin. 

Yet, through the film of darkness and despair, the city feels alive under the soles of your feet.

A soft flap of wings stir the air, and you turn to find the dragon staring at you, his gem ruby eyes twinkling in the darkness. 

“You made it,” his voice is a low rumble, and he shakes his head with a small laugh. “You humans and your paltry stubbornness.” Despite his harsh words, his eyes soften with something akin to respect. 

You’re cautious, but civil, glancing at the sprawling city before you. 

“Did you expect me to stay put here? Where I don’t belong?” 

There’s a tug deep inside of you, starting from your chest to your throat, like an invisible hand is inside your skin, roaming under your nerves, trying to extract something vital from your body. This strange force compels you to stumble closer to him, and your mind flashes in bursts of white light.

Devour him… End him…

The voice grows loud in your ears, and you feel the inexplicable urge to sink something into his chest. It flows hotly in you, a sword made of light that yearns to slay the dragon before you. Red mists flood your vision and your chest feels heavy, like someone is standing on your airways. You stumble to your knees, and the dragon moves closer, his pulsing right red eye nearly swallowing you whole—an eclipse of hatred tainting your soul. 

End him! Kill him!

The voices shriek like souls of the dead in your head, and you don’t think, grabbing the pummel of the knife strapped to your thigh and aiming it right for his eye.

His eye… the source of all your misery…

And you want it.

But, his reflexes are faster, silver hair almost black under the moonless night as he grabs your wrist and pushes you down to the rocky ground, the jagged edges cutting into your skin.

The dragon rumbles a low, eerie laugh that chills you to the core, yet your blood sings hotter for revenge.

“Ah. I see. So, your soul does want something. I knew you had an edge to you. I was waiting to see it… you have yet to become a disappointment.” 

You struggle against his grip, gnashing your teeth. He simply stares at you like you’re a feisty kitten, a smirk tugging the corners of his lips. As quickly as the murderous need appears, it dissipates, and you’re left reeling, blinking back the red hot urge to devour him.

“Let me go,” you stutter. 

He scoffs in disdain, but releases his grip on you. Scrutinizing you like how a predator would size up his prey, the dragon stalks closer, bearing down upon you with his indomitable presence. 

He corners you against the rocky cliff face, and this close, you can smell his breath—strong and heady like vengeful liquor fanning across your face.

“What is it that you want the most?” He rumbles and you stumble back, scraping the back of your foot against the rocks. He follows, the sight of his formidable broad shoulders striking a primal fear in your heart.

“What do you think I need?” 

You bare your teeth, yet he knows you dare not attack him. He sees it in the faltering resolve, the scent of your fear in the air. You are nothing but a weakling waiting to be crushed under his heel, your blood ready to coat his teeth. 

But, there is no use in ending your life now. Dragons are renowned for playing with their prey before they devour them, and a docile meal is not one delicious tasting enough to enjoy. He wants to see you struggle and squirm—only then will the conquest be far sweeter. 

“I want to make you a deal,” you speak, and your voice trembles; the effort it takes for you to remain calm is overwhelming. 

The dragon pauses in his approach, and a glint of curiosity takes over his countenance.

“Oh?” He sounds almost gleeful, those ruby eyes reflecting the erratic, dancing lights of Tarus City. “Well. About time. Speak. What is it you can offer me?” 

Your years of listening to hearsays and myths about the dreaded Fiend sealed off in the Abyss lends you knowledge to what it is a dragon truly desires: the sweetness of greed—the desire to devour a gluttonous soul. 

It is a risk to tell him what you want. But, since you are already a woman marked for dead, there is nothing else you have to lose.

“I want your help… to make me greedier.” 

The Fiend pauses, and you can see the look of curiosity flashing across his face. Closer now, you notice how elegant his features are, yet they carry a sharp coldness which betrays the disdain he feels for anyone beneath him—you included.

He rubs his chin with his flesh-shredding claws. The keenness in his gaze matches the sharp edges of his teeth which suddenly flash white in the darkness, weak moonlight reflecting off an unsettling grin.

“Greedier, hmm?” 

Circling around you, the Fiend flickers his gaze up and down your shaking figure. To him, you must look like the picture of patheticness, still in your old garbs and gaunt from the lack of nutrition. One single flick of his tail, and your life will end right where you stand.

Yet… he considers and weighs your proposal. “And what do I get in return?” 

Gulping, you hope dragons can’t scent a lie, and you struggle to make up one on the spot. “I can bring you more riches! I can help you get more revenge on the people who wronged you. I can amass you wealth and accolades like you’ve never seen before.”

The Fiend raises a brow. “Those are lofty promises, human. And what exactly would you want from me in return?” He is far more astute than you give him credit for. 

You don’t flinch when you mutter: “Revenge.” 

Now, you’ve got him intrigued. Cocking his head to one side, the handsome Fiend stares at you without saying a word. He’s seen your thoughts, felt your despair. The one thing you truly desire is the annihilation of those who brought death upon your village. The blood curdling screams of your people, the fires that ravaged the wild sky—you thirst for the deaths of those who unjustly stole your family and childhood from you. 

The look in his blood red eyes is indifferent, though the slight upturn of his lips indicate his interest.

“I see.” His wings stretch out, almost menacingly, though your quick eyes notice how they tremble… almost like he’s just learned to close them. 

But, the Fiend doesn’t give you time to wallow in your thoughts. He steps forward, tall and imposing. Taking your chin in his clawed hand, he tilts your face up, forcing you to look at him. In a flash, the red gleam of his eye dominates your vision. “There is more. Do not lie. I know you want my eye. You feel it, too, don’t you? This strange, magnetic pull.”

Without thinking it through, and you nod, your attention on his sudden proximity.

You wait for him to explain, but he never does. His touch leaves a trail of heat on your skin, and it intensifies when he presses his lips to your neck, sharp teeth leaving behind a searing bite.

“Ow—!” 

“This is a mark which bonds us, Y/N.” It’s the first time he’s ever said your name. You stare at him, breathing coming out jagged. The bite burns, almost as if it’s responding to the heat of his desires. “Before it fades, I will give you three attempts to take my eye. If you do not succeed… your soul is mine to devour.”

You put on a brave front, despite how fast your heart is hammering in your chest. A part of you thinks he can hear the thundering fear.

“Deal. And you, dragon, will help me with my revenge.”

He shrugs and takes to the sky, leaving you alone on this rocky crag where the wind is picking up. 

“Deal.” 

The dragon and you take to your revenge like straw to flame.

He enables you to soar high in the skies, plundering and stealing from corrupt nobles. He burns the Sanctuary down with you, relishing in the cries of these so-called ordained Oracles from a higher order who abuse their position and power to ruin the lives of those lower than them. 

The dragon and you make a formidable duo. The infamy of your reputation spreads across the lands, like the shadows his wings cast over Philos, marking the end of days. 

His bride and partner. Your very name brings disdain and fear across the faces of the men who had once damned you to this fate. Unbeknownst to you, the Sacred Judicator will not be overthrown. He is a man of pride and greed; a man such as that will never stand for a simple, cursed human girl to be his downfall. 

They plot and plan, finding pitfalls to ensnare you away from the dragon. 

While they scheme, the dragon and you live in the clouds, above Tarus City. With nowhere to go, your hometown long destroyed, and half of Philos demanding for your blood, there is nothing much you can do but to learn more about your companion. 

Drenched in the shadows of dusk, you sit next to the dragon, marking your next plunder on a starmap. He gazes over your shoulder, and his proximity reminds you of the mark seared into the skin of your throat. Sometimes you feel it pulsing, reminding you of the deal you made. His breath brushes your shoulder, and you blurt out the first thing in your mind. 

“Do you have a name?” 

The air between you two turns chilly.

“Why would it matter?” He asks coldly and you laugh.

“Well… I can’t keep calling you Dragon all the time, can I?” Mirth swims in your eyes, and the red vortex of his right eye flares, as if preparing to swallow you whole. But, you’re not afraid of the abyss. He can’t kill you because he still needs to devour your soul—and a dead human has no soul. “Besides, if we are in battle, the second I say Dragon, they would know who I am referring to.” 

The Fiend pauses, contemplates. After a moment, he rumbles what sounds like “Stay-rus” under his breath.

“Stay-rus?” You tilt your head to one side. “Are you asking me to stay clear? Or, is that really your name?” 

A flicker of a smile lights up the corners of his mouth at your impudence. 

“It is an ancient Philosan name.” 

“Ah.” You glance at him, and with no fear, touch his horns. He bristles, but does not reject your affection. “What if I call you something that sounds similar? Is Sylus alright with you?” 

The dragon shrugs. “Call me whatever you want. But, do not expect me to respond.” 

He stands and his wings rustle the air. 

“Where are you going, Sylus?” 

Despite his prickly warning at this new given name, he responds: “To rest.” 

But, you still want to speak to him, to get to know him.

“Please,” your voice takes on a softer quality. “Sit with me for a bit.” In this light of the flame, he looks younger. More human. You have never seen a dragon with this much emotion in his eyes.

Eventually, he sighs and sits back down next to you, casting his gaze far and wide to the city below. 

“Humans are strange creatures, are they not?” Sylus mumbles, taking a bite of the blood orange. You pick up a pomegranate and pluck a seed, chewing on it thoughtfully.

The Fiend rarely gets into an introspective mood, his thoughts and feelings hidden behind his indifferent stare. So, when he begins to ramble, you hear him. 

“Why do you say that?” 

A storm is brewing over Tarus City and the moon is hidden tonight. The secrecy and solemness of the entire surroundings mirror the distant look in his eyes. 

“Because through all the destruction and fear, they still have one thing in them unwilling to bend or break.”

Hope, you think. 

“Stubbornness,” he says, and tosses the peel to the ground where it lands with a dull thud. 

You chuckle and shake your head. “Not every human is terrible the same way not every dragon is evil. Duality exists and kindness can be seen in this world.” 

He looks at you like you’re a monster who has sprouted two heads. “They burnt your home to the ground. They took you away from your family and yet, you harbor no ill-intent for them.”

Your expression darkens, and in the sliver of moonlight, the dragon catches the same untamed fury reflected in his gaze. 

“Regardless of what they have done, innocents still roam Ivory City. To destroy all of them—”

“You are weak,” he spits out. Something in you snaps, and you stand, shaking from head to toe.

Instead of feeling intimidated, Sylus laughs, the sound coming out like a deep rumble, and shakes his head. “Sit back down. I am merely joking.”

Despite the flare of anger, you tame it, turning your indignant gaze to the embers of the fire smoldering before you.

“Why do you say such hurtful things to me? Am I not your partner through everything?” 

If you expected him to soften from your show of vulnerability, you are mistaken. The dragon narrows his eyes.  

“Do you think you can weaken me with your human love? Whatever bonding or mating attempts you humans partake in will not work on me, cursed one,” he rumbles, the tip of his tail flicking the top of my head. “If you truly want my love and attention, be stronger.”

His words rub you the wrong way, especially when you’ve proven time and time again of your heart’s discontent. The greed oozes out of you, demanding for more, something which you would’ve never dared tried as a young orphan under the Sanctuary’s care.

“Do not assume I am weak, Sylus,” you leap back to your feet again, glaring at him, and the effect strikes as much fear in his heart as a little kitten hissing at a python. You were no match for him, and the both of you knew that. However, he commends your bravery, even if it verges into the territory of stupidity. “I am plenty strong. You just have no idea how strong I can be.” 

He huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “If you think puffing out your chest and making threats will deter me, you are sorely mistaken, kitten—”

His words die in the back of his throat when you lunge right at him, dagger straight to his eye. He parries, and his tail grabs your waist, throwing you into a wall. You sneer, and the sight of your bared teeth reminds him of a young dragon who’s horns have just grown—reckless and itching for a fight. 

With every kill and steal, Sylus will always ask you the same question: What else do you desire? 

Now wrapped in the tenderness of an approaching new night and an empty moon, he senses a new, burning desire simmering between you two. A dance as old as time.

Primal instincts in him awaken when you stab your dagger into his tail, earning a hiss. His injury makes it hard for him to hold you up and he relents, dropping you to the ground where you roll away and parry, toppling over him. Red-black mists swirl around you, the light in your soul burning to devour the darkness in his red eyes. From the corner of your eye, you notice the stab wound you made in his tail healing over.

However, your instinct to kill, kill, kill doesn’t abate, and his need to drive his teeth into your soul threatens to overcome him.

End him… Kill him…

The words echo in your head, and you try hard to fight them off.

No… I can’t… I can’t… he is… he is my…

The shackles binding you to logic restraints the deathly need, and you drop the knife in your hand. Sylus laughs throatily, and without a second thought, he leans in to kiss you.

Soon, the desire to kill fades, and another pressing need emerges, this one intending to devour, but not in the way you expect.

A stirring heat fills your belly, drawing you ever closer to his light. You fall right into the vortex of his parted mouth, tasting the sweet breath of his tongue dancing with yours. Sylus shifts under you, growling when you accidentally nip on his bottom lip. 

“Careful, little one,” he groans, and the sound travels straight to your core.

“Mhm,” you moan, tasting his lips once more. He reminds you of liquor and elderberries, sweet and heady. 

Every nerve in your body is on fire, and you can’t help but to tilt your hips, pressing them closer to his, feeling the tight seam of his leather pants rub against your naked core. The friction leaves you gasping. Sylus lets out a low, guttural sound at the sudden spark of heat, his ruby red eyes darkening.

“Little one… you have no idea what that feels like…”

You gasp when his tail wraps around your waist gently, possessively.

You have never been with a man, much less a dragon before, and the idea of what could potentially come next leaves you reeling. 

“Wait…”

Sylus hears the note of hesitation in your tone and halts all his movement. The sharp, stinger-like tip of his tail is gentle when it caresses your cheek. 

“I will not hurt you, little one,” he promises. The air trembles with a murmur of vulnerability. You feel his claws slide up your waist, caressing the leathery garment you still wore from the time you dropped right into his lap as a frightened, wide-eyed little thing.

Sylus’s touches are feathered with curiosity, and those eyes hide a world of secrets behind them. Secrets you wish to uncover. You brush a lock of silver hair from his face, and to your pleasant surprise, he leans into your touch.

“Dragons cannot feel love,” he murmurs, almost as if reading your silent desires. Perhaps, he tastes your growing need in the air. “Not in the way humans do.” His kiss falls like a dew drop on your eyelashes. 

You struggle to keep your wits to yourself, not wanting to succumb to his charm. “How do they differ?”

He smiles, truly smiles for the first time, as if your question is something a child would ask. “Dragons have mating frenzies. A cycle of sorts. During that time, we are inundated by our constant need to mate and breed…”

You gently caress the side of his face, running your touch down the sharp ridges of where his scales meet his chest, above his heart.

“Can a human and a dragon ever mate?”

The question hangs in the air like an awkward note delivered wrongly in the middle of an orchestra chamber.

You swallow, about to backtrack, when he tightens his grip on you. Pain flashes in his eyes, as if he’s remembering a past you aren’t privy to.

“Yes,” he says softly, the word heavy with a thousand burdens. “They can. And, they have.” 

Taking in his almost human countenance, your eyes widen. “You… you’re talking about yourself, are you? About who you are?”

He growls in warning, and you clamp your mouth shut—not wanting to ruin this moment. Sylus is a puzzle you can’t quite figure out. But, even if you don’t have all the pieces, you cherish them whenever they drop onto your lap, doing everything you can to try and create a bigger picture of him.

“I dreamt of a boy once… a long time ago,” you gently run your thumb across his horn, not noticing how he shudders. “He was young and scrawny. With a stumpy dragon tail and cut off horns oozed blood…”

Sylus doesn’t speak, his expression like the dark side of the moon—hiding everything. 

You shrug, and lean in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “I never understood that dream. Maybe it’s a premonition.”

“Or, perhaps, a memory.” 

You lift your eyes, but he’s already pulling you closer, claiming your lips as his own. You shiver at the heat of his mouth, the all-encompassing need he pours into the kiss. Your mind spins, the room becoming hotter, as the stirring heat between you and the dragon kindles into something deeper. 

Needier.

Sylus moves his mouth to the tender juncture where your neck and shoulder meet, worrying his teeth into your delicate flesh. He bites and gnaws like a predator to its prey, the stinging pain morphing into an undeniable need slicking hotly between your thighs.

He groans when you inadvertently shunt your hips, eyes widening at the bulge behind his pants. Sylus gazes right at your lips, bringing them close to his once again, kissing you breathlessly. His tongue slips past to demand entrance to your mouth, and you part your lips, letting him delve right in. Greed infuses his kisses, and he takes and takes, swirling his tongue and tasting you, his grip on your hips tightening.

“Sylus…”

His name on your lips almost makes him feverish with need. Sylus growls and rolls you onto your back, his tail coiling around your waist, snaking up your neck. He stands and tugs you up with ease, his serpentine tail wrapped tightly around you. Your back meets the soft surface of his chaise, and he gently parts your legs, running the tips of his claws over your fleshy inner thighs.

The mark on your neck burns, and this desire is even stronger than the one calling you to kill him. It’s like your souls are fused together—whatever he feels, you do, too. Whatever he wants, you want. 

And right now, there is no shadow of doubt that Sylus wants you. 

He licks his lips, and the fire in his crimson eyes burns through you. You gasp when he lifts the hem of your leather, wedding dress up over your thighs, exposing your need to the chilly air of his lair.

Sylus groans, deep and gravelly in his chest, at the sight of how wet you already are for him. 

“Impatient, aren’t we?” He rumbles, and gently trails the back of his index talon down your slit. He gathers the wetness and, keeping eye contact with you, runs his tongue down the sharp curve.

You gasp, cheeks heating up. “Sylus—”

“Kitten,” he growls, kneeling before your spread thighs. The sight of you, all spread out before him, is one that pumps more heat into his bloodstream than any loot ever could. 

He smells how excited you are, your arousal like warm honey and vanilla, beckoning him to taste you. 

You gasp when his rough tongue licks a strip from your inner thigh to your bare pelvis, leaving a trace of heat behind. 

“Oh!” your voice echoes in his chambers. “Oh… Sylus…”

He growls, loving the name you’ve given him on your tongue.

The sight of his claws on your skin should’ve scared you, but all you feel is a deep curious need for more. You tilt your hips up in an invitation, one which the dragon raises his brow to.

But, he gets onto his knees, like you’re a sacred piece of art he has to worship. More than the riches and the gold, Sylus thinks nothing in his lair shines as brightly as you. Your soft skin under his lips, the velvety grip of your folds on his tongue… he may not be familiar with this type of desire, but it is slowly unravelling itself like an old, familiar blanket. 

Sylus nuzzles his nose right into the heart of your cunt, and you gasp, sighing his name.

He lets you grip his hair, play with his horns. His tail wraps tightly around your waist, the tip grazing your cheek. To his surprise as he’s pleasuring you, you turn your face and envelope the sharp, tapered curve with your soft, warm mouth, sucking on it lightly.

Bolts of pleasure shoot through his body like lightning. Sylus growls and lifts his head, ruby eyes entranced at the sight of your flushed cheeks and swollen lips tasting the tip of his tail. You lift your lust-drowsy eyes to catch his gaze, and smile.

“You… taste good…” Licking your lips, you’re unaware of the alluring picture you paint. 

This human, this mite in the face of a mighty dragon may not be able to slay the foul beast, but she sure knew how to bring him to his knees.

Sylus groans, doubling down his effort to please you.

It’s instinct how he moves his tongue, sampling your flavor. Your breathing hitches, gasps growing heavier, and from the twitch of your hips to the sight of more nectar spilling from between your legs, Sylus can hazard a guess that you might be on the verge of a climax.

A low, gravelly growl spills from his slickened lips, and his claws shred the front of your dress, splitting the skimpy material into half with the ease of tearing through sugar paper. 

Your bare chest unfurls like vast plains of flesh, warm to the touch, soft as silk underneath his claws. He sees your milk glands (or, as humans might call them: breasts), luscious and heavy enough to sustain his young. The primal lust roars louder in his veins.

“I want to see them full with milk,” he licks his lips and plays with your pebbled nipples. “Feeding my progenies… you will make a splendid mother, indeed.”

His words don’t scare you—you’ve already given this bond a thought, during dark nights when sleep couldn’t find you. If the dragon wants to mate, you shall welcome his advances. This new desire, hot and insistent within you, sparks like the first flame of love. 

“Ahhh…” your dulcet moan grazes his ears like a supple kiss. “Sylus…” 

His tail restraints your arms from flailing, though he gives you enough grace to sink your hands in his hair. Sylus’s warm tongue continues to tease your sensitive spots, his nose grazing your clit. Lapping at the warm musk you produce like it’s honey from a fount, the dragon greedily drinks you up. 

Timidly, you reciprocate, pressing kisses to the end of his tail. As your pleasure spikes, the need to ground yourself comes in the form of suckling on the narrow tip, your moans lost in mouthfuls of his stinger. He growls, eyes flashing and lifts his head from between your thighs. 

“How does one mortal know exactly where to pleasure a dragon?” 

You detach your lips from the leathery skin of his pointed tip, breathily replying: “I read an ancient book once… Dragons are symbols of fertility and their tails…” you trail off, as if almost embarrassed to know this fact, “... are sensitive.”

Sylus shivers when your tongue runs across the stinger again, making his tail twitch and flick uncontrollably. He resists the urge to flip you onto your knees and breach your tight heat in this instance, exercising patience. The last thing he wants is to accidentally injure you. 

“So, this is what they feed the dragon brides up in that sanctimonious Sanctuary of yours?” He mocks, “Ways on how to pleasure a dragon? How… whorish.” 

Your indignation flares and you narrow your eyes. “No,” you splutter. “It was a piece of information I found by accident,” you struggle against the tight coil of his tail around you, “And, do not call me such terms!” 

Sylus chortles, amused by your vitriol. “I see. My innocent human bride is not as innocent as I thought.” 

He grins and using his thumb, circles the throbbing bud between your legs. “Don’t move. My claws are sharp,” he warns, and gently, blows cool air on the little bundle of nerves already blushing. “Mhm… your body is… supple…” Cool, slightly chapped lips press a reverent kiss to your clit. 

You gasp, and struggling to quip back, ask, “And how does a dragon know how to pleasure a human woman?” 

His answer throws you off. Sylus grins, revealing rows of perfect, straight white teeth as he replies succinctly: 

“Instinct.”

His tongue delves right back into your heat and you scream, thighs twitching. The tapered stinger gently caresses your cheek, and you take it as an invitation to suck on the tip. Wet noises and muffled moans resound around the cave walls. 

Sylus’s tail releases you, and he kneels up, fumbling with his pants. You eagerly help him tug them down, not sure what you would find hidden underneath the dark fabric. 

But, a very much human cock greets your sight, though larger than the wax appendage in the science labs back at the Sanctuary. You bite your lip, gently stroking it from base to tip.

Sylus hiss, tilting his head back. “Gods,” he whispers blasphemy while in the throes of his pleasure. “Do not stop…”

You hum, warm palms running up and down the slick flesh. His tail wraps around your midsection again, and the light catches on a split at the base of the large, serpentine mass. Curious, you tilt your head to one side.

“Sylus… what is that?” 

He sees what you have spotted and laughs hollowly. “Didn’t your naughty books tell you, my bride? That… is a hemipenis.” The tip of his tail slides between your legs, caressing your folds and you gasp, squirming. Before your eyes, twin sacs pop from underneath the scales, and you see two curling branches feeling the air.

“Are those…?”

You trail off and Sylus huffs a hoarse laugh. “Yes. Supposed to go in you. One or the other. I am not picky.” 

Gaping, you stop stroking his human cock and pay attention to his dragon one. Roughly the same size as his human appendages, his dragon ones are a fleshy pink, with bulbous sacs hanging at the base.

“So… you have three organs…”

You marvel at the biology of him, not paying attention to the pink dusting on the high points of his cheeks. 

“Yes… so to speak.”

Sylus’s voice drops an octave, and you feel his claws gently caressing your bare thighs.

“I have… never made love with a dragon before,” you admit, and he finds it strangely endearing.

Sylus lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head. “If you ever did, I would not think to even have you in this position.” Grinning, he leans closer, as if to let you in on a secret. “I would have scented another male on you and snapped your neck clean off for daring to intrude in my lair… or, did you not know dragons only mate for life?” 

His words leave your head spinning. You gasp, and he grabs your chin, holding it firmly in his clawed hand.

Your wide eyes, your flush cheeks. You look divine, and Sylus aches for a taste.

He leans in, lips pressing to yours. There’s less heat this time, passion simmering to a tender touch—hesitation replaced by a growing intimacy that is undeniable. His hands roam your body, feeling the lush and warm skin of your hips, thighs and stomach. 

“You taste like sin incarnate,” the dragon whispers against your lips.

Curiosity simmers in you, needing to be fulfilled and you speak past his lips meeting yours in hurried kisses.

“What—do you mean—mhm… mating for life?” You manage to gasp. Sylus growls, loving how breathy you sound. 

Sylus lets out a rumble that sounds almost like a purr, his nose gliding from your jaw to your pulse point, inhaling you. 

“The mating frenzy happens once every few years. During such a… ritual… the dragons will choose one to be their mate—to carry their offspring and be their one true partner. Your books do not teach this because to humans, such a notion of love is barbaric and unheard of…” 

Naturally, the next question rolls off your tongue. “And… you have chosen me? As your mate?” 

The word suddenly holds a heavy connotation, and you swallow. 

His tail strokes your chin, and you nuzzle your cheek against it. Infuriating as ever, Sylus never gives you a straight answer. “Perhaps.” 

The idea of someone as simple as you being the Fiend’s mate is laughable. And, yet…

You lick your lips, running your gaze over his muscular and broad build. The prominence of his spine and scaly shoulders, the black-tipped serpentine tail with streaks of red scales. 

“Tell me more about these… mating frenzies.”

A guttural low growl forms at the depths of his chest, making you shiver.

“Better yet—I can show you.” 

In a flash, he’s on top of you, and his tail slithers right to your spread thighs. You feel the heat of his split dragon cock gently grazing your hip, and you hold your breath. “What does this mean? For both of us?” 

Sylus’s head is traveling to your sternum, his tongue sticking out to taste your skin. He stops at the swell of your right breast and sighs.

“You ask too many questions.”

Whatever is left of your coherence is lost in the feel of his velvet tongue teasing your straining nipples. He licks at them, bringing the fleshy nubs into the heat of his mouth and rolling them between his teeth. You gasp, completely helpless under his larger build, your arms bound to your sides by the strength of his tail wrapped around your chest. 

“Ngh—Sylus!” You cry out and he chuckles, low and smoky, enjoying how your body is squirming from the stimulation. 

Sylus’s eyes close when he feels your hand stroking his thigh and tail, the innocent touch sending waves of pleasure through his body. He is completely enthralled by you—this tiny, insignificant human… and you don’t even know the extent of his desire. 

Despite his rugged exterior, he nuzzles your cheek, inhaling the sweet scent of your soul ablaze with a new desire.

It’s heady and sublime, like a whiff of manna from a holier source than what’s between his ribcage. His heart palpitates, a staccato rhythm just for you. 

Sylus bends his head lower, eyelashes almost tickling your cheek.

“Is there something you wish to ask me, little one?” 

You struggle to speak, overwhelmed by the sensations he’s eliciting in your body. “I… want you.”

The confession rolls off your tongue, making his blood sing. Sylus grins, and his body primes with the need to claim you; to stake his seed deep in your body. The sight of his two cocks, each pulsing with pleasure and anticipation, makes your mouth water.

It’s a good thing those barbarians threw you down into his lair in such delectable garments… or, a lack thereof. Your bare body beckons him in like a moth to a flame; he shamelessly drinks in the sight of your splayed thighs hungrily—the fragile swathes of leather barely concealing your form. 

Sylus coils his tail closer to his pelvis, and you don’t hesitate to sit on the large, scaly mass. Your heat is maddeningly close to his lengths. The dragon desires stirring to claim you rises like a storm, and his nostrils flare. Sylus grabs your hips, positioning you over his right cock, letting the other one graze your pelvis. He hisses when you willingly take him, the innocent love on your face almost too much for him to bear.

(How can you look at him like this—like he’s something holy and worth loving?) 

The great Fiend melts right into your embrace, his head pressed to your shoulder, your bare breasts grazing the scales forming his chestplate. 

Sylus growls, going light-headed at the feel of your velvet walls melting around him. He gazes deeply into your eyes, finding not a shred of fear or repulsion in them. Your body molds around him like a well-fitted glove, your edges melting with his, the perfect contrast to his build.

As you lean in closer, he catches a whiff of honeyed wildflowers, and he deeply regrets commenting on your odor before, knowing it was because of the warped perception he had of you. 

You press your lips to his jaw, the bond between you thrumming like a live heartbeat.

He leans in to taste your mouth, the tenderness of this moment transcending any pain and bitterness he’s ever endured in his tragic life. Maybe one day he will tell you about the scars, the prejudice, the family he’s lost. But tonight, he wants you to belong to him as much as he already belongs to you.

“Does it hurt?” He checks when you take the last few inches of his beastly cock, your expression betraying a wince of pain.

“No…” you murmur, and he senses the truth in your shiny eyes. “It is simply… I am not accustomed to it.” 

Sylus bites down on a groan when you shift your hips, the sensation of him moving deep inside you both foreign and enticing. 

“O my bride,” he murmurs, nosing your hair. “You have no idea how delectable you look right now—astride me like this. Completely in my grasp. Completely mine.”

You shiver at the note of possessiveness in his tone. They said dragons horde what they find valuable. In his arms, you don’t feel broken or despised—you shine like the most priceless jewel. Despite his countenance and the infamy behind his reputation, you’re at ease in his arms, rubbing your nose with his.

“The bride of the dragon… his temptress of the night… one could get used to such a name,” you tease. His clawed hands tighten on your hips, and he guides your movements. Nose to nose, chest to chest, the dragon and you breathe as one.

The sensation of him inside you is one you have never felt in your short life. It’s both aching and pleasurable—makes you feel like a harlot and an enchantress all at once. Sylus does not hesitate to breach the last vestige of your innocence, the mark on your neck burning from his claim. 

Your ripeness and purity stains his thighs in streaks of red, and he growls low. 

“You are… untouched?” 

You nod, not trusting your voice. Your eyes water and your throat bubbles with a sob, but not from pain. You want nothing more than to make this moment of agonizing ecstasy last forever.

Sylus drops his head back to your shoulder, lips seeking your neck blindly. The mark he leaves calls upon his name, and his lips seek it effortlessly, biting and licking—reopening the wound only to seal it back with his healing capabilities.

It’s delirium and distress all in one. Your body feels like a flame in the open air, dancing violently to the blows of his desires. You move above him, bracing your smaller hands on his shoulders, leveraging on his muscular build to chase your high.

Sylus scents your soul in the air—hot liquor topped with boiling salt—simmering with the irresistible pull of your desires. The look in your eyes is wanton and needy. He can almost taste your desperation in the back of your throat.

“My bride,” he growls, gripping your hips to make you move faster. “My beloved, beautiful, greedy bride.”

His low snarl makes your insides squeeze, the need for him burning brighter and hotter.

“Sylus—” you choke.

That’s it, my sweetness… give yourself to me.

A feral, almost inhuman timber laces his voice, compelling you to surrender to the dark desires stirring beneath your skin. 

You crave for Sylus—need him like you need air.

The wet sound of skin meeting skin, his husky snarls and whispered praises bring you closer to the edge. Sylus moves under you, a dark wave with piercing ruby eyes following your every move. He fixates on your face, unable to look away. 

Those clawed hands, born to shred through flesh, tenderly cradle the plush of your hips. His mouth, a delicate curve, finds refuge in the valleys of your breasts, nipping and sucking on them like a sugar addict sampling the finest sweets in all the land. His ardent affection sends shivers of pleasure down your spine, your glassy eyes drowning in his intense, crimson gaze. The fire flickers and catches on the sheen of his dragon hide, inky smooth under the softness of your touch. 

Flesh and scales. Dragon and wife. Both blend into one as the night wears on.

Sylus feels your walls trembling, sucking him deeper. He nuzzles the mark on your neck, grazing his teeth on your pulse point.

“Let go for me,” he speaks in that same raspy, deep voice. Compelling you to listen to him. “Let go and release your worries… I am here to catch you, beloved.”

Beloved… beloved…

You are the dragon’s beloved.

Your heart soars above the clouds, far from your body. The waves of ecstasy crash around you, dragging you under. Right in the heart of the mountain, your scream of his name echoes down the valleys and boughs, the pleasure searing through your veins.

In response, Sylus roars, a great bellowing sound. He protects your fragile, human hearing with a palm pressed right to your ear, your cheek and ear against his chest; his claim resounds like a boom of thunder, shaking the trees. 

You’re dizzy, blood rushing to your ears. Sylus holds you in his embrace, pressing your body to his broad chest, close enough it feels like you could fuse your skin with his.

Your breaths mingle, heady liquor dripping into each other’s mouths, and you drink deeply from his kiss.

Sylus lays you down on the chaise, curling up next to you. Like a dragon guarding his horde of treasure, he keeps you close, tail curled under your head. Occasionally, he would caress your belly, feeling the generous swell of his release lodged right in your womb. His beastly cock remains warm in you, the hard ridges drawing sparks of pleasure chasing up your spine with every movement. 

His large wing unfurls, draping over you. With his head on your chest, your arms around him, and his dragon cock softening inside you, Sylus holds you tightly. Possessively. The tip of his tail nuzzles your chin, his human cheek rubbing against your head. 

Wrapped snugly in his embrace on all fronts, you fall into the deepest sleep of your life.

The dragon and you grow closer day by day.

As your need for revenge abates, your greed is satisfied in a different way—through a more carnal and intimate fulfillment. For a creature who loves to hoard, Sylus is generous with his pleasure, sharing the riches of his love and knowledge.

He flies you around Tarus City in his arms, his wings cutting through the valleys and casting a terrifying yet breathtaking shadow over the mostly barren rockspace. But, the city is not without its charms.

Laying in a field of daturas, the sun shines warmly on your skin. 

With a lack of human clothes nearby, you had to get creative and stitch some leather hide together with scraps of chiffon he plundered from a clothing merchant in Ivory City. The result is a dress which shows off the strength and agility of your body, light enough for your quick movements, yet warm to withstand the cool Tarus City nights.  

You munch on a blood orange while Sylus plays with a pearl necklace, lopping it around the tip of his tail, unwinding it only to gently place it on your lap. You glance at him, finding a soft smile lifting the perfect curves of his lips. 

“Put it on,’ he rumbles, and you raise a brow. 

“Why?” 

Sylus chuckles, shaking his head, finding your stubbornness endearing. You find you quite like the sound of his laughter. The warm sun bounces off his hair, turning it almost a blinding white. The hue of his locks matches with the pearly beads, its sheen catching your eye. Without a second thought, you put the necklace on. 

Turning to him, you grin. “Is this to your liking?”

But, his eyes darken, the sudden look of lust flashing in his crimson eyes catching you off guard.

Before you can open your mouth to speak, he grabs you by the waist, pinning you down to the grassy carpet. The cloying scent of crushed daturas fill your nose, making your head spin. You cradle his face in your hands, admiring the jut of his sharp features. 

Sylus nuzzles into your touch, like a needy cat. He growls when you touch his horns. 

“You know what caressing them does to me.”

You pretend to look innocent. “Oh? I suppose I don’t. Care to remind me again?” 

Your dragon lover grins, baring his teeth. Sylus never smiles unless he catches the scent of treasure. Trapped underneath his bigger build, you glance at his right eye, and the mark on your neck starts to tingle again. Every time you think you have an upper hand on the situation, the bond you share with him brings a crushing sense of helplessness and desire—making you repeat the pattern of giving into him all over again. 

His lips press to yours and you inhale the sweet taste of blood oranges on his touch. He nibbles on your lower lip, and you shiver.

“O bride,” he whispers, dragging the tips of his talons up your side. “You smell… delectable.” 

His mouth seeks refuge in the crook of your neck, biting, nipping and sucking. The sharp sting of his teeth and tongue turn into ripples of pleasure coursing through your bloodstream, warming you from the core. 

You thread your fingers through his silver hair and he hums in approval. 

Sylus moves his mouth from your neck to your pulse point, going over the marks he left the night before. The frenzy of his claiming sears through your memories, and you shudder again, powerless against the desires that consume you.

He nips and licks along your jaw, across your collarbones. The bite of his teeth drives you closer to ecstasy, and you tilt your head back, whimpering.

“Sylus…”

He smiles against your skin. “I love the sounds you make… these sweet, little eager mewls,” he rasps in a dark, low tone, his body pressing down on you. You gasp as he leans in, lips a  breath from your ear. “It makes me want to devour you.” 

A cacophony of lust and longing swirls inside you. The mark on your neck grows hotter. You crane your neck closer to him, noses almost touching and like a plea for succor, you murmur, “Then, devour me.” 

The glint in his eye grows darker and he leans in closer. “You have no idea what you are asking for, little one.”

There’s an edge of warning in his tone, one you choose not to hear. 

“All I want is you… and I must have you, my dragon.”

A shiver runs up his spine, the sound of your possessive words both delighting and frustrating him. 

He cages you to the ground with his arms, looming over you like a dark shadow. The muscles in his body tenses, coiled tight like a spring about to break. 

You pry your wrists from his grasp and he gives your freedom back with no hesitation. Your hands roam the broad expanse of his back and chest, feeling the warmth of his human skin mingling with the cool hide of his dragon scales. You concentrate on the spikes erupting from his shoulders, running your hands down his pronounced spine, where you gently press a hand to the base of his tailbone.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, and the sunlight speckles his shadows over your face. You pluck a flower and gently tuck it under a ridge of scales closest to his heart. “Has anyone ever told you that, Sylus?” The red bloom contrasts vividly with his dark scales, and the look on his face reminds you of a setting sun—tender and warm.

His eyes soften, the beastly need shadowing them tempered by a touch of adoration. 

He takes your hand in his clawed grip and gingerly runs a talon over your knuckles, careful not to break skin.

“No one has ever said that to me before,” his voice is rough, laced with an unfathomable emotion. Sadness? Grief? Anger? 

You couldn't decipher it. But, the unconditional affection you feel for him does not waver. 

Sylus slots his larger build in between your thighs, bearing down on you. Even with his proximity, you don’t feel afraid, gazing into his jewel-tone eyes, admiring how they shine like rubies in the gentle sun.

“Sylus… have you ever been in love before?” 

He turns his head to press kisses onto your fingertips. Slowly, he shakes his head. 

“Dragons do not feel love the same way humans do.”

Curious, you card your fingers through his hair. “And how do they feel love?”

The ruby embedded in his chest pulses almost as if it’s alive. You gently run your fingers over the sharp edges of the jewel, surprised to find it warm There’s something about it that echoes him—rough and unyielding on the surface, yet concealing a depth of hidden truth beneath its intricate facets.

Sylus grasps your wandering hand in his, bringing it to his lips. His lips touch the thrumming pulse of your wrist with a dearest reverence.

“Imagine you’re at a feast and the host has arranged a full table filled with only your favorite food,” he explains, rubbing the tip of his nose into your palm. “There’s a centrepiece and you wish to have it, but the host tells you it’s for decoration only. Yet, you cannot remove your eyes from it. You scheme and pine, wondering how to grab it when the bastard’s back is turned. Then, frustrated and no longer able to wait, you end the host where he stands for daring to keep such a treasure from you.” His voice grows softer, fringed with despair. “You pick up the centrepiece and sink your teeth into it. It’s made out of plastic and the feast ends because of you. The table is toppled over and you haven’t even touched your meal yet. This is what it feels like to love as a dragon.”

Your eyes soften, sensing his anguish. “I see.” Instead of being disgusted by his greed, you feel for his plight—to be cursed to love and long for something or someone that will never satiate the true ache in your  soul. “But, I suppose that’s where the magic lies, right? In the meal and not true desires? What’s in front of you instead?” 

Gently, you caress his horns again, marveling at how strong and perfectly curved they are. 

Sylus bends his head closer, letting you touch them. “Only you humans think such a paltry keep is worth pursuing.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Love is not about what you can take but what you give back.” 

As you stroke the indentations at the base of his horns where he’s taken a knife to it one too many times in the past, Sylus flinches from your touch. You still, and he bristles, growling under his breath as he urges you to continue caressing him by nudging his horns against your palm.

You grin. “Hmm… you know what you remind me of?” Not waiting for him to reply, you continue, “A huge kitten. An angry, horn-fiended kitten.” 

Sylus scowls, baring his teeth slightly, but when you scratch the base of his horns, tickling his scalp, he fights back a moan.

“Mhm… feels good,” he rumbles, and you giggle, happy to have found his spot. You scratch at it for a few moments, enjoying the warm press of his body on yours. His wings quiver in the light breeze, and the day shines on, the field of daturas all forgotten for the softness in his eyes. 

When night comes, cool and blanketing the world in peaceful darkness, you hum, stoking the fire in the centre of his lair. Sylus hears the cadence of your breath, the rhythm, and he wanders over to you, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck.

“What is that… sound?” 

“Oh. It is an old lullaby… one my mother used to sing to me.” 

His clawed hand grazes your belly, gently trailing up to cup your cheek. You lean into his touch, enjoying the warmth of his broad body cocooning around you. 

“Can you sing it to me again?” 

In the deep vastness of Tarus City, a lone, beautiful voice reverbs, her song lifting from the peaks of the dragon’s lair, up into the cloudless night. The dragon listens to her, besotted, his ruby eyes never lifting from her face.

She finishes the song, and he lifts his head from the comfort of your lap. “That was beautiful.” 

Surrounded by all the riches of the world, the dragon wants to reward you. 

“Since you so kindly gifted me something I do not have in any collection, you are free to take anything you want here.”

Your eyes land on a tapestry, depicting a dragon being surrounded by a horde of angry men and their weapons. “What is that?”

Sylus lifts a brow, chuckling to himself. “A depiction of all the 108 ways men have tried to kill a dragon.” 

You glance at him, trying to dig deeper past his words. “I take it they all failed?”

He stretches and languishes back on your lap, his chest rumbling with a deep chuckle. “Of course. A dragon is not an easy creature to kill.”

A part of you wants to know more about Sylus’s past, but something holds you back from asking him. You distract yourself instead by caressing the skin around his eye, feeling the need to take it—claim it as yours. “Anything I want?” 

As if reading your mind, Sylus grabs your wrist with a smirk. “Anything except for my eye.”

You pretend to pout. “You’re not fun…” But, you don’t want to overstep on the dragon’s generosity. Your eyes land on a ruby pendant, and you finger the string of pearls he had placed around your neck earlier today. “What’s that pendant?” 

He follows your gaze, and smirks. “Ah. You have good taste, little one. That is an old ruby worn by the first Empress of Philos. Thought to be lost after the Battle of the Brothers. I found it at the bottom of a volcano.” 

You shiver, glancing at the impenetrable ruby.

“And it did not melt? Wondrous…”

Sylus hears the awe in your voice and shifts from your lap, his tail reaching to grab the necklace, depositing it into your waiting hands. “Put it on,” his tone takes on a huskier note, and you feel a spark of heat running down your spine. Obedient and eager, you slip the necklace on, feeling the heavy weight of the pendant settling around your throat. 

The sight of the shining crimson jewel right at the centre of your chest mirrors the jewel embedded in between his pecs. “Look. We match.”

Sylus runs the tip of his claw over the cool metal of the ruby hanging around your neck and chuckles. “Indeed… though yours looks much more ravishing.”

His eyes slide down your cleavage, drinking in the sight of the pendant nestling snugly right between the valley of your breasts. A familiar hunger gnaws in his loins, and he shifts closer to you, breath warm on your neck.

His lips find the shape of your mark, retracing it with his lips. Sylus growls softly when he feels the ghost of your moan caressing his cheek. Your hands make their way back to thread his silver locks, holding him in place. 

There is no hesitation when he pushes you onto your back, the sight of his bulging cloaca catching your eye. His twin cocks emerge from the safe haven of his scales, and you gulp at the sight of them, waiting to sink into you—fill you up with his seed.

Sylus tries to remove your dress, but his claws are much too sharp, and he accidentally nicks you.

“Ow—” you curse and lean back, lifting the dress over your head, letting it fall in a heap of leather and chiffon on the stony floor. Sylus feels his breath catching in his throat.

Completely bare for him, your skin shines, catching the heat of the open fire. The reflection of your body through the mountains of gold melts under the press of his, your legs perched wide and open to receive his cock. Sylus grunts, moving onto his knees. The feel of him breaching past the tight ring of heat is delirious, and your hips cant, begging him for more.

“So greedy,” he breathes, tongue flicking out to tease your quivering bottom lip. “I have barely even started and you’re already whining. Your body is very sensitive today, precious.”

You whine, the weight of the necklaces pressing hotly into your skin when his body sinks into yours. Sylus marvels at how easily you take him, your breathing coming out in short huffs. He fingers the necklaces dangling from your throat and decides you need more. Precious jewels of ambrette, emeralds and sapphires fall upon your body, the dragon dressing you in his horde. 

He piles on more necklaces until you can barely see your breasts peeking past the fall of gems and chains. Sylus growls, his cock throbbing in you with every adornment, until he’s satisfied. He bends his head forward, licking and lapping at your tight nipples, puffy and stimulated from the cool metal rubbing against them. 

The sensation of his warm tongue contrasting the cool gems caressing your sensitive flesh is too much. You cry out, tipping your head back, giving yourself fully to him. Sylus does not take such submission lightly. He holds you tenderly in his arms, gliding his nose over the arch of your throat, inhaling the scent of your honey liquor soul.

She calls out to him, a sweet chime though the terrain of his own lost spirit, drawing him back to the warmth of your body and love.

“I cannot live without you,” he murmurs into the safety of your neck, as he settles right to the hilt. The faint sensation of his dragon cock hitting your cervix makes you wince, and Sylus is immediately attentive, raising his hips and keeping his thrusts shallow.

Your grip around his neck tightens, and you giggle when he tickles your shoulder with his relentless nips. “Sy-lus—” 

“Say my name like that, precious,” he grins, tongue snaking out to lap at your pulse point. “I love hearing my name on your lips.”

You groan. Sylus… Sylus… take me, Sylus…

He shivers as you chant his name, the sound of it on your lips driving him deeper into a frenzied state. Sylus picks up his pace, his grip on your hips tightening.

Ecstasy shoots through your veins, sparking from where you’re connected with him. The rocky ground is hard underneath your back, but your full attention is on his movement inside you. 

Licking his lips, Sylus grins when he hears you gasp at the feel of his spare cock caressing your rear entrance, the tip pushing past the tighter ring of muscle.

“Sylus—”

“Let me play with you, my precious,” he whispers. Your eyes widen; it’s like his cock has a life of its own. 

Sylus enjoys the way your hips twitch and undulate, your cheeks and chest flushing warmly from his ministrations. Your eyes close shut when the tip of him breaches past the tightness of your rear, cool fluid lubricating the arduous task of impaling you with his two cocks.

“Sylus, wh-what is that?” You moan, digging your nails into the thickness of his biceps. 

“That,” the dragon grins proudly, “Is my claim on you. You belong to me now, my precious. Forever and always.” 

The other half of your soul surges his hips forward, capturing you in a bliss of fullness you have never felt before in your life. Your cry rebounds across the cave walls, and he smothers your whimpers with his zealous kiss.

Sylus’s two cocks move inside you like a symphony of lust, drawing out your baser instincts, your moans for more, more, more. 

He gives everything he has to you, thrusting deeply, needing to reach into the heart of your love and lust.

You’re completely incoherent, whining and writhing. The necklaces around your throat clink and shake with every thrust of your dragon’s forceful cocks inside your tight heats.

Sylus growls at the sight of your body and hair fanning out before him. You look like a dream, an oasis he has once got  a glimpse of but never had the chance to drink from. 

He’s dreamed of you once, when he was locked in the loneliness of the abyss: your valiant sneer, the sword of light plunging through his chest. A part of him always knew you would be his undoing. Yet, he never imagined his destruction would be so damn intoxicating.

Your thighs tighten around his waist, holding him close. 

It takes every shred of his self-control not to lean in and draw blood from your neck. Sylus wants to mark you, needs to see his claim on your body.

It drives him to the point of snapping his teeth and growling, little more than an animal in heat. But, you don’t shrink or flinch away from him.

You take his dominance with a gleam of desire in your eyes, your sweet, supple body begging for more. 

And Sylus wants to give it all to you. 

He feels you tightening around his two cocks, the squeeze of your muscles heady enough to make his eyes roll back into his skull. The base of him is utterly ruined with a combination of his slick and your juices, streaks of white painting the inside of your thighs and dribbling onto the stony ground.

This dance between you two is unfettered and animalistic. Groans, growls, moans and hitched cries.

All of it blends into a cacophony of one. Sylus feels his blood heating, his mind reeling.

His thoughts are darkened with the need to breed and conquer—your womb his ultimate conquest. The dragon desire and instinct urges him to dominate, to plant his seed right in the heart of your fertile body. Sylus grabs your waist, changing the angle of his penetration. Your cries grow shriller, your breathing heavier.

He can sense the end of your tether, your body holding onto the last vestiges of your sanity. 

Sylus growls, “Come for me, precious one. Come.” 

A marionette to her master. Your body listens. Your heels dig into his waist, earning a hiss from him. He moans loudly when you squeeze tighter, nearly taking his breath away as you arch your back and—

“Sylus!” 

Magnificent. He can’t take his eyes off the pleasure playing out on your face. The scrunch of your brow. Your desperate cries grow hoarser. Your body coaxes him to the edge and takes him under. 

He spills inside of you with a low groan, talons scraping the rocky floor, his teeth digging into your shoulder. Possessive and intense, he keeps you pinned to the ground, letting his seed seep inside of you and take root—hoping his gift would someday grow wings.

You nuzzle his cheek, pressing your lips to his jaw and throat. 

Sylus pulls you to drape over his chest, his cocks softening inside the embrace of your body. The silence mellows like a greeting between two friends, the afterglow keeping you safe and warm in his hold. There’s no sound beyond the whistle of wind in trees and the firewood crackling.

“You said dragons mate for life,” you whisper through the inky darkness of the lair, the warmth of his embrace lowering your defences; something romantic about the night giving way to your deepest curiosities. “Does this mean I am your mate for life?” 

You’re so small and sweet in his arms. Sylus thinks he can hold you forever. 

He pretends to close his eyes, though a smirk plays in the corners of his lips.

“Is that what you envision?” 

“Is answering in riddles the only way you communicate?” He hears the frustration, the bite of sarcasm in your tone, and chuckles.

“Adorable even when you’re feisty.”

“An ass when you don’t give me a straight reply.”

Word for word. Parry for parry. Sylus chuckles, sensing he can get used to your presence for the rest of his life.

“Oh, hush,” he pulls you closer, pressing his face into your hair, “Do not ruin this moment.” 

Tarus City is full of surprises.

You would have thought such a place like this would bear no mark of civilization, but Sylus surprises you with a visit to the morning market. The stretch of streets sell everything from love potions to stuffed dung beetles, and you wish you had six pairs of eyes and ears to take in all the sights and sounds.

Sylus walks beside you, his broad build hidden under a cloak, and you’re in a similar fashioned one. 

He watches as you peruse an ornate box, before your eyes widen at something over his shoulder. “Sylus… is that a canvas made of dragon hide?” 

His eyes travel to where you’re pointing and he smirks. “Tarus City is unlike Ivory City in the sense that anything you want, you can get here.”

You walk alongside him, hastening your steps to keep up with his long strides. “Can I find a potion that will turn me invisible?” Sylus shakes his head at your nonsense question and flicks your nose with his hidden talon. 

“Your mind truly is a fascinating space, little one.” 

You laugh at his words, missing how his eyes soften when you turn to point at a tavern. “I’m starving. Do you want something to eat?”

The dragon can’t say ‘no’ to your human requirements, and he follows your lead. You sit together in a booth right at the back, hidden away from the  prying eyes of the other patrons. Sylus orders two ginger ciders, and pays with a pile of coins. The innkeeper’s eyes nearly burst out from his sockets, and before you can stop him, he sweeps the cash, promising the two of you a feast to remember. Barely even a few minutes later, the food arrives, tables laden with meat, fresh fruit and casseroles. 

Your stomach grumbles and your eyes take in the wondrous spread. Sylus chuckles when you dive right into a roast pigeon casserole, your cheeks all puffy and full. He pokes them and smirks. “Slow down, precious. The food is going nowhere.”

“Safe for you to say,” you murmur past quick chews, and swallow heartily. “I’ve noticed that you don’t eat much… you barely need any sustenance…” Another quick bite, and you tilt your head to the side. “Why is that?” 

His chin perched in his palm, Sylus gazes at you from across the booth, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. 

“Ah. So, you noticed.”

You frown and sip on the ginger cider. “I did. You look like you barely enjoy food.”

Sylus shrugs and picks up a wildberry, popping it between his teeth. He chews on it and swallows, contemplating how best to answer you. 

But, you continue: “I notice these days… you don’t see the beauty of music, can’t judge patterns, and flavors of food just don’t register for you, don’t they?” 

He clears his throat awkwardly. “Dragons don’t need any of these to survive.” 

“But, they’re part of the beauty of life,” you argue and he chuckles. 

“And you would know everything about beauty and life, right?” 

You huff, glaring at him. “I do know that life isn’t about treasures and kills… it’s about the wonders of memories created together,” you pause for a moment, feeling the words in your mouth. “It’s about love.” 

A dark emotion crosses his expression, but it’s gone before you can dive deeper. 

“Love? I told you before, it does not exist for dragons.”

You smile, catching him off guard. “Maybe that's why it’s so precious—because it doesn’t exist.”

Sylus looks away, like he can’t bear your eager expression any longer. “Starry-eyed optimism will get you nowhere in this world. You should know the fate that befalls a dragon’s lover.”

As if on cue, the stage lights dim and the roar of a dragon fills the dingy inn. An actor prances on stage in dragon wings. He sings for a long time, weaving a tale of a lonely dragon flying through the valleys. He doesn't change his cadence, and yet, you watch, enthralled. Sylus studies your reactions instead of the play, his ruby eyes sliding from the elaborate scales and fake blood to take in your entranced expression. 

He can’t resist coiling his tail around your waist, and you smile, leaning closer to his warmth. He shifts to sit beside you, letting you rest your head on his broad shoulder. The play drones on, but you’re invested in it. 

Then, the final act happens, and a woman with a red dress appears on stage, singing about her love for the fabled fiend. 

Sylus watches you closely, taking in your reactions. Your eyes widen when the dragon kisses his lover, and you gasp when he stabs her with his claws, sanguine liquid pooling on the stage. 

After the performance and dinner, you let him carry you down the streets in his arms, safe in his warmth and more than sleepy from the big meal. “Sylus… why did you bring me here?” 

Always perceptive. He can never hide the truth from his bride. 

“No reason.”

“But, I want to know why… and why the dragon had to kill his beloved even when she loved him so much.” Pouting, you try to appeal to his softer side, trying to sway him with your love. “Can you please tell me? Or else, I’ll have nightmares for the rest of the night.” 

He sighs and you gaze at him with wide, pleading eyes. There's something more he’s not telling you—your soul can guess as much. 

It’s clear he feels the same pull of curiosity and glances down at you. Slowly, he begins to fill in the gaps. 

He tells you a story of a young boy, born with dragons but with a human appearance. How the boy grew up thin and scraggly, an easy bone to pick amongst the rest of the horned fiends. Sylus’s eyes waver with a rippling loss when he mentions the eradication of the kin, how that boy became the last of his kind. 

“As the boy grew older, he began to develop horns. Afraid, he took a blade to them and his tail, but the scales would just grow back, soaked with blood…” Sylus continues and you’re mesmerized. “After centuries of anguish, he finally came to terms with his truth as a monster. Then, the love of his life appeared.” 

The world slows down, chatter and noises fading in the background. Only his soft ruby eyes anchor you to this moment.

“She removed the sword from his chest, and yet, she was the one destined to kill him. He knew she would be his archnemesis disguised as his bride, but somewhere along the line, he stopped wanting to consume her soul…” His voice grows softer, sour with a palpable loss. “Slowly, he became consumed with the idea of being human, and forgot the true monster underneath his skin. Maybe it was when he saw her preserving despite the odds, or when her desires echoed his own and reminded him of his foolish, youthful self… whatever it was, he began to see life in a new light. And yet, a dragon can never be a human.” 

He guides you down a narrow path. The night’s chill and his forlorn words make you shiver, and Sylus reaches out to tighten your cloak. 

“Dragons have a tendency to toy with human desire, however they often become ensnared by it, and ultimately are enslaved by such needs and become true monsters…” He stops, turning to look at you. “In the end, he killed his beloved. That is the dragon’s curse.”

All is silent for a few moments. Sylus gauges your emotions. 

But, for all the warning he gives you, he doesn’t expect you to reach out and encircle your arms around him.

“Take me home,” you whisper into his shoulder, hiding your face in the crook of his body. Seeking him out as your salvation and not your ruination. 

Sylus’s heart squeezes. “How can you not hate dragons?” 

You tighten your arms around him. 

“Because I’ve seen real monsters, and you, Sylus, aren’t one.”

Your words imbue in him a desire so strong to take you up to the clouds and make you forget the sadness his words stirred in your soul. 

Sylus swallows hard and carries you in his arms, lifting off into the skies. The wind whips in your face, yet you’re warm and safe in your dragon’s arms. 

So, he thinks as his wings slice through the clouds. 

This is why she stays by a dragon’s side.

Unbeknownst to either dragon or his bride, a hidden figure in a dark cloak watches their every movement. 

He notes their closeness, the fact that the sacrificial brat is still alive. Oh, he thinks, grinning to himself, the Sacred Judicator would love this. 

The news of the Fiend’s release may have shook the entire nation, but they now have a way to make sure he’s locked up in the Abyss for good. 

In the shadows, the man dreams of the accolades he would receive for trapping the dragon, how his name would reverb from the annals of history for centuries to come. The Sacred Judicator himself would bestow his sword onto him for his mighty achievement. 

And it will all be thanks to his wonderful bride. 

Sylus wakes up one morning to you in his arms. The birds are chirping, the wind is whistling and the faint shadows of dawn illuminate the cave walls. 

He embraces you, sensing nothing out of the ordinary until he presses his face closer to your chest.

Instantly, a sweet, warm scent floods his nose to coat the back of his throat. It smells like the innocence of the first snowfall, or the comfort one gets from sitting by the fire after a long day. 

Pure, sinless… milky.

He drags his nose from your neck to your belly, inhaling the sweet fragrance, tasting the faint tremors of a tinier heartbeat rippling underneath your skin and flesh. His own heart skips a beat. 

“Precious?” 

He feels you stir in his arms, your mesmerizing warmth drawing him deeper into the cocoon of your embrace. You grumble, rubbing your eyes, the action making his chest squeeze. 

You yawn and stretch your limbs, your body unfurling like the spine of a well-worn book. “G’morning,” you slur, still half-asleep, shooting him a dopey smile. 

Sylus doesn’t know the first thing about a human female’s anatomy, or the possibility of procreation between a dragon and a woman. But, what he does know is this is no ordinary occurrence. His instincts are telling him something is different about you.

The sheen of your hair is glossier, your cheeks are fuller, and your body… he tightens his grips on your hips, still naked from the night before. Your body feels even more luscious under his touch. He smooths his claws down your sides in awe, feeling the sinew and stretch of your muscles expanding under his scaly palms. You giggle and shrink away, mumbling sleepily. “What’re you doing, Sylus?”

He drives his nose further down your body, inhaling more of the sweet, milky, innocent scent. His heart can’t deny what his instincts already know: you’re with child.

His child. 

“Do you feel… different, precious one?” He rumbles, not missing the way you snuggle closer to his chest, your cheek squished against the ruby in his chest. 

You close your eyes, gliding your hands over his broad back and chest. “Tired… hungry… a bit achy. Why?” 

He huffs, mentally taking notes of your condition. “Do you feel… particularly achy?” Gently, he cups your belly, and you frown, your eyes fluttering open. The morning sun highlights the glow of your cheeks, taking his breath away.

You’re positively radiant.

“A little… my back hurts and my breasts feel a little sore…”

Sylus’s eyes spark with delight. “Is that so?” 

You give him a look. “Sylus? What is going on? What’s with all these questions?” 

He stretches his arm around you, holding you tightly to his chest. You feel him kissing the top of your head and wonder why he’s being extra clingy today.

“Do you know what you smell like now?” Without waiting for you to reply, he presses on. “You smell like a mix of warm cotton and milk—pure innocence… completely tempting…”

You crinkle your brow, wondering what is he on. 

Sylus continues. “Precious, you don’t understand do you?” He gently tilts your head up with two talons under your chin. “Dragons are creatures of desire and symbols of reproduction… and my senses don’t lie to me, sweet one…” His next words make your heart drop right into your stomach.

“You are with child. My child.” 

You swallow and glance up at him through your lashes, your lips slightly parted.

“But, how—” you stop, remembering the nights of unrestrained passion you both had indulged in for weeks. “... Oh.”

As if reading your mind and remembering the intensity which led you here, Sylus grins. “Yes. It seems our careless actions have resulted in something… wonderful.” 

He presses a clawed hand to your belly, kissing you on the forehead. “Speak, precious. What is on your mind?”

You feel your heart expanding with both awe and fear. Awe for the life you now hold deep in your body, and fear of such repercussions of this magnitude. To carry a dragon’s seed, to be with the Fiend’s child—

“I… cannot go back to Ivory City anymore,” you whisper. 

Sylus frowns, not expecting your concerns to lie with something so trivial in his eyes. 

“Is that what you wish? To return back to that wretched place?”

Your eyes clear, as if you’re seeing him for the first time. “No. I do not wish that.”

Sylus tightens his grip around you. “Then, stay.” Here with me, is what he wants to add, but the words are stuck in the back of his throat.

He watches as you caress your belly, like you can sense the life you’re nurturing deep inside you. 

Slowly, the cloudiness of your uncertainty fades, and the warm reassurance of your willingness to stay soothes Sylus’s soul. The dragon would not admit it, but he has no idea what he will do if you decide to leave him. 

“Of course,” you murmur, and bury yourself deeper into his warmth. Sylus stretches his wing over you, shielding you closer to the coziness of his body. 

“I’ll stay here with you—where I belong.”

It’s not long before Tarus City is overrun with the rumors of the Fiend meeting his Archnemesis once again. Gossipers flood the market, telling of the old sacred text coming to life, musing about how and when this spectacle will occur. 

They say the Fiend will be slain where he stands. Others ruminate on his gradual downfall. 

But, up in the clouds, you and Sylus aren’t tarnished by such rumors. 

Within these walls, you slowly start to build your home with him. A nest of soft blankets, a sheath he made for your sword. Sylus spends a few hours a day cleaning out his lair, though cleaning is hardly the word when he’s haphazardly tossing out old treasures to make room for you and your growing belly to rest. 

The two of you still hunt in the forest, though he’s mindful of your current lack of stamina. On days when neither of you feel like foraging, you don your disguises and head to the market, exploring stalls with various knick-knacks and collectives, bickering and haggling for goods like an old couple. 

At night, Sylus watches as you brush your hair, humming a soft lullaby to the little life growing inside of you. It’s during these peaceful moments when you teach him how to dance, guiding his hands to your waist, singing a soft dirge your mother taught you before her untimely passing. When he first attempts it, his movements are clunky and mistimed. However, you never give up on teaching him, and soon, the dragon and his human bride navigate the stony floor with a rhythmic ease, his steps sure and grip on you never faltering.

As these moments occur, it hits him when he realizes how much you’re changing him on a fundamental level. 

Dragons weren’t exactly known as patient creatures. 

They plunder, loot, steal and burn down anything that stands in the way of their greed.

But, with his child growing in you, day by day, Sylus is coming to understand the sweetness of anticipation. He’s never seen a youngling before, having been sealed in the Abyss when he was a child himself. A part of him wonders how your baby will look like—tiny horns? A petite tail? His silverish hued hair?

The more he ruminates, the more he feels protective over this treasure you’re nurturing in your body. 

Your dragon lover knows nothing about parenthood—his own mother having died in childbirth and his father slain by Legion soldiers after his homeland was invaded. Yet, despite this painful lack of experience, he’s unwavering in his devotion, showing up for you in any way he can. 

Sylus is careful whenever he presses his claws to your belly, and makes sure his sharp scales don’t cut you when you’re asleep beside him. Wherever you went, he was always a step behind, shadowing you and keeping a close eye. 

“You’re like a puppy now,” you tease him once, in the wide fields where daturas scatter, waving their red petals like the tops of a sentry’s hat. 

He smirks at your teasing, watching you weave a collection of wildflowers together into a round, circular shape. 

“I can’t help it—you’re whelping. It’s in my nature to watch over my bride and now, the mother of my youngling,” he places his clawed talons on your belly, eagerly trying to sense for any movement. 

Your smile widens, touched by his concern. Sylus feels you slip the flower crown on top of his head and he chuckles. 

“Come here.”

He pulls you into his arms, letting you press your cheek to his chest. The two of you lay like this for hours, feeling the breeze caress your skin and tug on your clothes and hair. Sylus picks up a datura bloom, and repaying the favor, tucks it into your hair, his smile soft and eyes tender.

Only you and this flower can touch me here, he whispers into the skin of your neck, setting your soul ablaze with pure love for him. 

“Sylus, have you given any thought to the baby’s name?” 

The dragon gently runs his talon over the slight swell of your belly, pursing his lips.

“I do… quite like the name Atlas for a boy… or, Serenity for a girl.”

“And if it’s both?” you tease. Sylus’s eyes widened.

“You suppose you’re carrying twins?” 

His eager expression warms your heart, and you gently stroke his cheek. “I suspect it since my stomach is a bit bigger than we anticipated and I’m only a few weeks along.”

Your dragon lover presses his ear to your belly, trying to hear the sound of two heartbeats over your own thrumming one. 

“I hear one—in sync,” he pauses and listens closer. Faintly, a third heartbeat lags after the second one, and Sylus gasps in surprise. “You are right, precious.” His words make your heart flutter. “I hear two.”

You gasp, eyes brightening with delight. “Sylus… could it be…?” 

Twins. You can hardly believe it. He laughs, pure and unaffected as he embraces you fast to his chest.

The sun shines down on two lovers free from the constraints of burdens or prejudices, lost in each other’s embrace, celebrating a new start after years of unimaginable strife.

Sylus had left you alone in the market with two simple instructions: wait for him to return and don’t cause any trouble. 

But, as always, trouble has a way of finding you even when you don’t go looking for it. 

The square is a lively patchwork of activity—stalls piled high with ceramic pottery, earthenwares, textiles you barely know the name of, and curious trinkets from far fetched lands. You’re drifting among the crowds, drawn in by the oddities and novelties of the vendor’s wares, lost in the rhythm of the market. 

That was when the shout came—shrill and unmistakable. “Thief!” 

The cry cuts through the din like a knife, snapping you out of your daze. Your gaze shoots upward, locking onto a figure in the crowd. A man, clutching something wrapped in cloth, stumbles backward through the marketplace. His face is smudge with dirt, and there’s no mistaking the terror in his expression as he pushes past the onlookers, desperate to escape. 

Before you can process what’s happening, the first group of soldiers burst onto the scene, their heavy armor clinking with every step as they flood into the square. Their gleaming swords catch the sunlight as they move swiftly, surrounding the area and cordoning it off. Your confusion doubles at the sight of the thief escaping through the metal gates right under the soldiers’ noses. But, they don’t react at all, barely concerned with him, their sharp eyes scanning the crowd, looking for something else—or, someone else, entirely.

It hits you then—they’re not here for some petty thief. This is an operation—a precise, organized one. 

Sylus. 

You pick up the pace, removing your sword from your scabbard, when someone pushes you to the ground. Falling hard, you cry out in pain and cradle your belly, looking up to find a Legion soldier leering at you. 

His face comes to mind, filling you with dread. 

Throw her down to the Abyss, he sneers in your memory, those cold blue eyes burning into your soul. And see how long the Fiend will take to swallow her whole. 

He grabs your arm, yelling, “Got her!” as the other soldiers swarm around you, blocking your exit. Arrows rain down from the sky, swords shing as they clang and strike a giant mass in the middle of the square. To your horror, a black dragon raises his head, his scales streaked with blood, arrows lodged into his wings. 

“Sylus!” You scream, but he can’t hear you through the commotion and his Fiend instincts. Those red eyes scan the crowd, finding you, and you fight back from the Legion’s hold. “Sylus! I’m here—!”

He roars, shaking the roof and the ground. You cringe back, crying out when you feel someone drag you into chains. “Sylus—help me!” 

The dragon takes one step towards you when a huge spear is thrust right into his chest. You scream, and the disruption sends many into a frenzy. Citizens disperse, mothers rushing to shield their children, store owners rushing off with as many of their wares they can carry in sacks. 

“Sylus!” Tears spill down your cheeks, and something hot and desperate pulses in your chest. 

Take him… End him…

The urge to devour the dragon rises in you, imbuing you with strength to fight out of the chains. Determination fuels your movements and you slash at your captors, struggling from their grasp. You manage about a step when a soldier tackles you to the ground. A loud cry, like that of a wounded animal, bellows from the centre of the square. Shackles and chains appear, the dragon’s injuries repressing him from his escape.

He isn’t healing. Your frantic eyes scan Sylus up and down. His injuries are not healing!

“Sy—” A sharp pain stabs into your arm, and you look down to find a needle sticking from your skin. Immediately, the world before you shimmers and shakes, your head feeling woozy. You gasp, trying to fight off the vertigo and rush to your lover’s side. 

A soldier aims for an arrow right to Sylus’s heart, and the feverish daze lifts for a moment—enough for you to kick the soldier right in his loins. The man grunts, his hold on you loosening, and you dart forward, putting yourself right in front of the dragon and the arrow.

Sylus roars behind you, and you taste his fear in the air. But, the second you turn to him, the sword of light forming right in your hand, you feel a burst of pain rupturing through your chest.

As if in slow motion, you look down at the arrow sticking out from your ribcage. 

ROARRRRR!!

The ground shakes with the force of the dragon’s agonized bellow. Soldiers scream, and ropes seem to materialize from thin air—holding the force of his anger down. 

You choke up a wad of blood, feeling the end of his tail coiling around your legs before he’s snatched away. The pain in your chest mirrors the one in his own, both your souls screaming and clamoring for each other.  

Sylus… You reach for him, fingertips grazing his outstretched talon—

But, you’re yanked away, and Sylus is taken in by the Legion, their yells to contain him loud throughout the entire square. 

Another thunderous bellow. 

An arrow flies through the air, directed at you, but the dragon intervenes. He pushes you to the ground with his snout, shielding you with his face—

The arrow sinks squarely into his right eye.

You scream, clutching your face, your chest. Blood oozes out, his mixing with yours. The dragon staggers back, standing on his hind legs, half-blind and hellbent on destroying everything around him. 

His roar could shatter your eardrums, and you sink to your knees, gasping in pain. 

Blood swims everywhere, a sea of it in front of you. 

You wipe your face, and crumple to your side, clutching the swell of your belly that’s bleeding down your thighs, your babies absorbed back into the earth below you. 

My children… my dragon…

The world fades into a ringing, dark pit of pain. And, unlike before, you hope you never wake up again. 

–

The Abyss is quiet and cold without the love of his life and her light.

Sylus steeps in the bitter depths of his own misery, trapped once more in the silence and darkness of a prison he desperately loathes. The blood from his right eye has long dried, but the lack of light makes it hard for him to discern the extent of his blindness. 

He buries his snout under his claws, huffing in pain. 

In his chest, his beloved rebels and screams, her soul equally in torment. He feels the agony ripping through her when they pull the arrow out from her ribcage, the empty ache of her womb now desolate of the children they created with love. Hot tears flow down the dragon’s leathery snout, and he brays in pain. 

My love… my light… my precious…

The chains the Sacred Judicator wrapped him in are fortified with magic, leaving him helpless to fight against them. His soul is beaten and broken, the light of his life taken from him with such casual cruelty. 

A dragon can never love a human and a human… will only encounter pain and strife when loving a dragon.

Why hadn’t he stopped you from falling in love with him? 

All of this could’ve been avoided if he hadn’t saved you—hadn’t given you a piece of his soul. 

Sylus trembles, the dragon instincts warring in him to break free while what’s left of his human tenderness shrivels up at the loss he feels radiating throughout his entire body.

My love… I am so very, desperately sorry. 

The days pass, and he sees you in his mind’s eye, restrained in chains as well. 

The humans who swore to uphold justice judge you by his mark on your shoulder. They beat you. Starve you. Sylus is helpless to aid you, forced to feel your pain and scorching agony.

A part of his soul drifts away, in limbo between life and death, hovering in a horizon where the sky kisses a field of flowers.

He finds you there, whole and healthy. 

“Sylus…” your sweet voice whispers, your head on his chest. “Is it truly you here?” 

He nods, unable to speak, holding you tightly against his body, as if you will disappear if he opens his eyes.

“Yes, my precious,” he murmurs into your hair, “It is I.”

The stillness of your belly tears through him like the agony of having his scales ripped from his body one by one. He falls to his knees, pressing his cheek against your stomach, sorrow seeping down his face.

“My precious, I am so sorry—I couldn’t—I wasn’t strong enough—”

You shush him, falling to your knees as well. You take his face in your hands, tear tracks glinting on your cheeks. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He tries to argue. “I failed you—”

“You saved me… can’t you see?” You bring his clawed hand to your chest, and gently caress his injured eye. “Feel this—there is nothing compelling us to destroy each other anymore.” 

For a split second, he gazes at you in wonder.

The desire to kill and maim each other has been transcended by this act of pure sacrifice. 

But, then, he shakes his head, words clogged in the back of his throat. He wants to tell you that you’re wrong—that he is not your salvation, but the one who brought you ruin. It’s his fault—can’t you see? It’s because of him you’ve lost everything you hold dear and holy.

Yet, despite the guilt clawing at him, he can’t tame the hunger inside. The dragon is greedy, harboring a dark craving that grows fiercer with each moment. He wants you—more of you—and leans into your touch as if it can quell the storm inside of him. 

The scene is haunting, yet tender in its contrast. The dragon, monstrous and deformed, with his single, glaring eye, embodies the isolation and grotesque fate that befalls all monsters. Yet, his bride, in her ethereal grace, approaches him with a love that transcends appearance. In this cruel, faithless world where the honorable and different are unjustly punished, love is the one constant; it endures the most terrible of circumstances. 

Your touch is soft, not recoiling from the ruin of his eye, but offering solace. The kiss you give, placed on the source of the dragon’s anguish, becomes an act of healing, a reaffirmation of your shared bond that exists beyond the physical. The bride, once a symbol of purity, becomes the monster’s redeemer through a single, powerful act of love and acceptance.

What was once grotesque is made sacred by a touch that mirrors his own. 

The beast and his bride, reunited at last, after a lifetime of suffering.

Time blurs into a standstill. 

Days and nights pass, yet Sylus cannot count them for he is buried underneath the ground like an abandoned corpse, hidden from the sun and stars.

One day, as he tends to his wounds, he hears footsteps above ground. The scent of men stings his nose with their sweat. The dragon stands up, growling in warning, but the figure who approaches him is not afraid.

In his lofty robes, the Sacred Judicator grins at him, a mockery of the broadsword strapped to his chest. He says nothing, stepping aside for his minions to dump a bundle in front of him. 

The familiar sharp tang of blood and broken skin—once precious and warm—reaches his nostrils and Sylus bellows. 

Before he can lunge at them despite his limited range of motion, the Legion disappears, leaving him trapped once more beneath the rock—this time with the lifeless body of his bride. 

Pain rips through his chest like a spear staking through flesh, and it’s from this sheer agony that his dragon spirit breaks, the snout and scales disappearing, leaving behind the shell of a man sobbing in his magical chains. 

“No… no…” his voice is a strained whimper, echoing past the shallow walls. 

Sylus’s strong arms, meant for destruction and death, wrap tenderly around your broken body. He lifts one claw to brush your cheek gently, his single carmine eye flitting over the bruises and cuts on your face, your arms. There’s a huge gash over your belly, where the Legion doubled down—making sure to leave no trace of his children behind. 

Your legs appear broken, though your chest is rising and falling rapidly. 

“No… no…”

A mighty roar tears through his lungs, echoing across the lair—shaking the base of this mountain they had kept him trapped under. 

“NOOOO!!!!!”

All his life he’s been told he would cause nothing but pain and suffering, death and destruction. He had let them tie his wings down, banish him underneath the hard-packed earth where light could never breach. He had endured their endless taunts, their prods, their mutterings of him being nothing more than a beast—a mindless monster destined to bring Philos to its knees. 

And now, he finally has reason to destroy them all.

Sylus staggers to his feet, his beloved in his arms, as he takes one step forward, and the next. Fat tears pool and trickle down his gaunt cheeks, falling right onto your unresponsive face. The chains clank and barely afford any give, but in his desperation, he lets the metal tear through his skin and scales—needing to fight back with every fiber of his being. 

“I will avenge you,” he whispers in a low, strained tone, trying not to think how much torture and pain you had to endure at their hands. “They will ruin the day they dared to touch you, my beloved.” 

The sacrificial bride, once delivered to him like a grim punchline, is the sole reason he’s taking control of his beastly narrative. 

Sylus will make them pay through blood and fire—flesh and bone. For every laceration on your precious skin, he will destroy a thousand more people, burn cities down with a single flick of his claws. His great wings stretch and he releases another bellowing roar, breaking through the magic chains from the force of his own sheer will. 

He takes to the skies. Faster and higher, he gains altitude, careful to hold you fast to his chest, shielding your face from the whipping wind. 

Word spreads of his escape, men panicking and screaming. The Legion, having barely escaped the mountains, find themselves in the eye of his wrath. Sylus bellows, charging straight at them, his single ruby-red eye glittering with pure, seething rage. 

They fire arrows at him, but he manoeuvres past the rainfall of quivers and gleaming, silver tips. He howls at them, a wounded beast on the last leg of his survival. The ferocious tug in his soul becomes a full-on desire to see the empire of Philos crumble.

Sylus expands his control, breaching the minds of these simple-minded fools. He forces them to jump off the cliffs, or bash their heads into the rocks till the bones of their bloody skulls gleam under the scorching sun.

No one can touch him now. High in the sky, he cradles the broken body of his beloved to his chest, feeling the soft caress of her cheek against his tough hide and skin. 

I shall destroy them for you, my darling, he solemnly promises and shoots forward, intent on keeping his oath. 

Ivory City appears on the horizon, then the gleaming domes of the hypocritical half-built Sanctuary.

Everywhere the shadow of his wings falls, the people lose their minds. They shoot and strangle each other, spreading fear and dissent across the entire land. Walls collapse and monuments dedicated to the Emperor and his Sacred Judicator crumbles under the force of an inferno raging through the city. 

Their screams reach his ears like a cacophony of vindication. Sylus feels no sorrow for these greedy, selfish humans who have taken away the one true thing in his life he cherishes.

They broke her bones, mangled her limbs, snubbed out the sweet souls growing in her womb—all to destroy him.

And, they will pay. 

He hovers in the air, a terrifying shadow over the destruction of Philos.

Blood and tears trail from his wounded eye, mingling on his cheeks like the devastation spreading across this corrupted nation. 

Sylus watches them fall and burn to the ground, his expression unreadable.

When the cries and screams begin to wear him down, he turns and flies back to a field of daturas and the lair where your salves await. 

Home is in the distance, untouched by the horrors of all that he’s witnessed. He lands gently onto the rocky crevice, closing his injured wings around you. Sylus sets you down on a soft pelt of fur while he lights a fire, stoking the flames to warm you.

The rapid beating of your heart pulses in his ears, and he prepares the salves just as you taught him—one for your wounds and the other for you to drink. 

“My love,” he whispers in a soft voice fringed with pain. Tenderly, Sylus lifts your head, bringing the cup to your lips. He watches you imbibe the drink, coaxing you with gentle encouragement to drink it all. 

When he notices some color returning to your cheeks, Sylus begins to rub the healing salve over your injuries. For your broken bones, he fashions tourniquets out of cotton and woven tree fibers. 

“I’m so sorry, my love.” He kisses your hair, gritting his teeth as he sets your bones right, your screams of anguish breaking his heart. “I know, I know,” Sylus whispers, wrapping the makeshift gauze over your broken limbs and fragile legs till you look like a swaddled doll. 

He tends to you, day and night, until your strength returns and you open your eyes. 

The first time your gaze focuses on him, Sylus thought he would have cried. You wince, but still lift your hand to his face, caressing the swelling of his injured eye. 

He shrinks from your touch, murmuring I meant to fix a patch over it. Your answering smile is tender, and carefully, you caress his afflicted eye again.

“It doesn’t scare me,” you whisper hoarsely, licking your parched lips. “You’re still my Sylus.” 

Your simple words, meant to soothe, makes him hitch a sob. “My love—”

“Shh…” You use what remains of your strength to lean up and embrace him. Sylus lets himself drown in your arms, putty in your affections. He knows he doesn’t deserve your grace or forgiveness for not being stronger and protecting you better, but he’s a selfish creature that desires for your love no matter the cost. 

You feel the strength in his tight grip waning, and he collapses in your embrace. The adrenaline from days of tending to you begins to fade as his injuries and fatigue catches up to him. You notice again that his wounds aren’t fully healed, and struggle to sit up. 

“Sylus—”

He shakes his head. “I’m… fine. Just let me close my eyes.”

Panic infuses through you and you shake your head fiercely, tears welling in your eyes. “No! Don’t you dare close your eyes—don’t you dare!” 

You clamber off the pelt and cradle his head in your arms, placing it onto your lap. Sylus opens his one good eye, looking at you with love in his gaze. 

“I am fine—”

You swallow your tears and shake your head. “I will not let you perish, not if it’s the last thing I do.”

Sacred texts prophesied that the dragon’s Archnemesis would be the one to end his life. But, his sacrifice has rendered the light broadsword in your soul void, and your own selflessness resulted in the destruction of his right eye, where a part of his tormented soul calls out for you to destroy him. 

You will not hurt him any longer. You will save the dragon just as he had once saved you. 

Light spills forth from the remaining half of your soul that is still yours to own, pooling in his chest where you bind your fate and heart to him. 

Sylus grips your hand, as if begging you to reconsider.

“Is this what you want?” His hoarse voice is filled with trepidation. “Once we hold hands with each other, we are forever bonded through life and death,” he asks you again, knowing how monumental of a decision this is: 

“To share your life and soul with a Fiend is a tremendous punishment—will you not truly regret it?” 

You’re too far gone, desperate to keep him alive that you’d do anything to have him by your side.

“If following our hearts is a sin, then you and I must be the last of our kind in this world.”

With those words, you gift him your healing. As the wounds close, Sylus brings your wrist to his mouth and kisses the delicate skin with all the devotion his broken body can muster.

“In that case,” he murmurs hoarsely, eyes closing as his skin and muscles regenerate back together, “Stay close to me forever.”

The cave walls glow with a warm, golden light. The dragon stretches his wings around you, holding you fast to his chest. 

As the last of your healing flows into his blood and soul, Sylus presses a kiss to your forehead.

The rays of a setting sun touch the intertwined figures of a dragon and his beloved bride as they drift into a deep, healing slumber—the hardships they once bore are carried away by the tides of forgiveness, their pain forgotten in the embrace of a second chance. 

The silence of the datura meadow near the destroyed chapel fills you with an unadulterated sense of peace. 

A slight breeze picks up, brushing past the tiny dragon horns and tail which grew in place after you gave your heart and soul to Sylus. You welcome the change—once the dragon and you became one, your heart has never known such felicity and joy. 

You gaze at him as he plays with his children in the field, teaching his babies how to growl and roll over, never mind that your twins are just shy of a year old. Despite the lingering pain of losing your first pair of babies, fate was kind enough to bless you again with their souls in the form of their younger brother and sister. 

A pair of snowy white heads shine under the gentle sun, while their father brings them to his chest, his clawed hands gently enveloping them closer to the warmth of his skin.

Sylus’s ruby eyes find yours, and a gentle smile plays on the corners of his lips.

“Beloved, are you alright? Is the baby giving you any discomfort?” 

You wipe your eyes and place a hand on the tender swell of your belly, feeling the new life inside squirming at your touch. Sylus stands and cradles his precious boy and girl, sinking down in the grass beside you. His tail comes to wrap around your waist, and you press your face into his shoulder. 

“Just caught in a reflective mood, that’s all,” you reassure him as Serenity coos, reaching out to graze her chubby hand on the curve of your stomach—as if she can feel the life burgeoning in you. 

Sylus hums and places a tender kiss on your forehead. 

“Whatever mood you are in, I want to be there for it, my love.”

You smile, the devotion in his voice filling you with an unshakeable sense of protection and love. 

“I know, and I love you, my dragon… my Sylus.”

My dragon is here, your heart soars at the thought. 

His jewel-tone eyes glow obsidian in the soft morning light, the affection of his touch reminding you that he’s here—that he will never leave you alone, not if he can help it. 

“I love you, too, my bride… the mother of my children and keeper of my soul.” 

The both of you stand, him carrying Serenity and you cradling Atlas in your arms. 

The last dragon family walks into a valley that embraces them, together till the end, hand-in-hand as they step into their new beginning.

— aaaannndd that's their happy ending :') i wrote this as a way to cope with sylus's myth and how it obliterated my feels (kid you not, i was sobbing uncontrollably for an hour and felt so empty so of course i HAD to give them the happy ending they deserve)

+ sylus + his dragon fam inspired by @/napanewt art on twt.

since writing this destroyed a fragment of my soul, reblogs, feedback and nice words will be so appreciated ❤️

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, claim my story as your own, or feed my works into AI.

[1920sladydectective]

Mhhhhh, maybe

-Ambessa x Babett's "Worker"

Or

-A captuered War Prize 😌

But also

-A Servant of Hers

Please dont feel forced to write anything, Just saw your request and wanted to give Suggestions.🙊💕

Hello darling! Thank you for the ideas, whilst I may visit them all I have done a captured war prize for now. It was supposed to be short and sexy but then it became..this? She plays the slow game and conquers the reader in other ways.

I hope you like it, thank you for the support <3

I haven't proof read it much because I am literally exhausted lol

MDNI 18+

Warnings - Manipulation, Mind Games, Captive, Degradation, Pet names, Reader doing accidental voyeurism, Oral, hair pulling.

Her Prized Possession - 3.8K NSFW

They’d come through like a tornado, ripping apart your entire life and feasting on the rubble. People had fled, terrified of the swift and unforgiving invasion. Those who remained were rounded up and tossed into carts. The ground shook, frightened by the fury of Noxus and at the heart of it all was her. Ambessa Medarda was renowned for her cruelty, her efficiency and most of all her greed. 

You were the perfect example of that. 

You had been pulled from your apothecary’s hut, cotton dress filthy from your attempts to hide. They raided you of your life’s work, people throwing you into a pile of frightened villagers. The air shifted, the soldiers straightening as certain steps commanded their attention. Without looking up you knew it was her, and fury burned bright. This self obsessed, pompous woman had destroyed your life and for what? She lingered a step away, sword raised lazily as if taunting farm yarn animals. You only had a few seconds, and even if it was fruitless you had to try. 

As others cowered, obeying her cruel words, you slipped your fingers around the knife in your sock and shot forward. Somehow it made contact, slicing a gash into her leg, trailing down her leg. 

“Monster,” You snarled.

You were risen into the air by your hair, a pained yelp leaning you as you stared into the eyes of a hungry beast. Golden eyes gazed at you, surprised and amused. You were going to die now, and she was laughing in your face. 

“She’ll do,” She said easily, throwing your body at the ground behind her, before wandering off with no sign of injury. Confusion had eaten you until two lean Noxian soldiers had appeared, spears in hand. 

Their touch was uncomfortably gentle, ushering you like a scared dog from the village into an imposing, structured tent. Fear licked at your bones, a fate worse than death settling on you like a thick cloak. Maids with pretty eyes and practised fingers removed your dress and replaced it with a soft red silk slip. Oh. You were a prize, an object like the towering pile of goods in their camp, to be used and discarded. 

It didn’t take long for them to chain you to a small post next to a large, velvet armchair. There you sat, resting on your knees on cold marble. You felt ornamental, your humanity dripped away as you merged with the surroundings. You could only be thankful that it was warm in the tent, for the winter winds howled outside as afternoon beckoned. 

When she entered you refused to look up, muscles tensing. 

“Sulking, are we Dear?” It was honeyed, as fabric dropped to the floor, “I wouldn’t, it was a good hit, if you’d gone up slightly it might have even done something,” 

Your cheeks coloured with frustration. You hated her, hated how small she made you feel, how effortlessly she had crushed you. Worst of all you hated the beauty she wielded. Like a serpent, blinding you with glittering scales as she wound around you, squeezing you till you burst. 

“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me now,” She pouted, summoning your eyes instinctively, “There she is, brave warrior,” 

You frowned, “I suppose it’s not enough that I’m here, you have to mock my only agency,” 

Ambessa moved forward leisurely, in only black underwear and a robe, settling into her armchair, “I never mock a bold manoeuvre, little one, no matter how fruitless,” 

She tugged you forward slightly, your head forced to rest on her thigh as she poured a cup of tea. You grunted, staring at the rug between her legs as she intertwined her fingers in your hair. Her touch was kind and repetitive, caressing your locks as she picked up a book and began to read aloud. Adrenaline was drowning you but your anticipation garnered nothing. She stayed like this for hours, muttering to you. The fire and her touch forced you into acknowledging your exhaustion. Occasionally she would offer water, fingers wielding a crystal glass for you. It took five tries for you to accept, your throat aching from dehydration. You were rewarded with a scratch under your chin as her voice continued to wash over you. In another life this would have filled you with contentment and it grated at you. 

Moments later you were being moved again, picked up as though a feather to rest on her silky thighs. The hand she reattached to your head pushed you into the crook of her shoulder, her smell potent and warm. Iron and sweat clashed with spices and sea air, leaving your flagging mind woozy. You couldn’t escape and you had no way of harming her, so sitting in her lap became your only option. 

You hadn’t noticed your fluttering eyelids and heavy breath until your stomach growled, cramping at its emptiness. Her voice stopped immediately as the book slammed shut. Those eyes, now kind, surveyed you. With a melodic ring, a bell to her side beckoned two maids. 

“What do you wish to eat?” Ambessa asked, tucking a strand behind your ear, “I shall share whatever you have,” 

“Pork stew,” You muttered, desire for food and comfort outweighing your doubts. If she’d wanted you dead, you’d be a corpse. 

“A local delicacy, I’m told,” Her words are in your ear, lips practically against them. 

The food arrived faster than you’d thought possible, steaming and hearty in little gold bowls. Your stomach interjected again, eyes wide and desperate. To your immense surprise, she undid your shackles and allowed you to feed yourself. Though you were still anchored to her lap by a strong arm, this newfound freedom caused a rush of joy. The stew was exceptional, though more decadent than you ever would have had it. The chef must have had a heavy hand with the spices, no cares as to their cost, the heat flooding you. Ambessa seemed comforted too, her portion over double yours as you watched in subtle amazement at her appetite. It could have fed a family of four from your village with ease. 

Whatever plans she had for you, it seemed she would not be enacting them tonight. Your silk slip was a nightgown and nothing more, as she moved with you through the tent into an adjoining room with a large, fur covered bed. 

“Now then,” Her hand held your chin, “Shackles for bed tonight, wouldn’t want you wandering off until you’ve proved your loyalty,” 

Loyalty? That’s what she wanted?

The metal felt warmer than before, less weighted as she clasped it shut and bundled you up. Her form slid in next to you, though she mercifully did not insist you touch her. You did not speak, unable to give her the satisfaction after having to tolerate so much, though she wished you a tender goodnight. 

Your sleep was fitful, filled with slashing blades and burning embers. You awoke alone, furs wrapped tight. A slip of parchment was to your left in a sharp hand. 

I shall be away all day, 

There are clothes and some books on my armchair for you.

Mira will see to anything you need, 

A.M.

True to her word, a slight serving girl entered the moment you moved to the main space, trays of food and drink with her. She helped you dress, braided your hair and even undid the shackles. 

“Lady Medarda said this is a show of trust,” Her words were clear, as if dictating from a note, “If you attempt anything, guards will be on you before you can lift a scrap of the tent’s fabric,”

“Lovely,” You grumbled to yourself, “Her trust gives me the ability to lift a glass unaided,”

“If you behave she will bring your medical journals and allow you to sleep without restraint,” She said, a smile on her face. Of course she had predicted you’d complain. 

The book she had read to you yesterday was in the pile and after breakfast you found yourself wanting to learn its conclusion. Warm in the wool trousers and jumper Ambessa had provided you, you sat in the chair and finished it. If Mira had any opinions about you sitting in her Mistress’s chair she did not voice them, and the small rebellion quieted some of the caged panic that rattled in your chest. Her slowness to act just gave you time to think of an escape plan and then you could get away elsewhere 

The sun set quickly, your time wasted with dozing and books as you memorised each corner of the room. Though this was technically a tent, it was secured enough to act as a house, with the only way out being forward which wasn’t a way out at all. Lady Medarda ensured that. 

When Ambessa returned dinner had long since passed, and you had begrudgingly put yourself to bed. The curtain parted and her fatigued face came into view. 

“There you are,” She sighed, “I thought you would have dug a tunnel out of here by now,” 

“Cutlery’s too dull, no doubt a coincidence,” You found yourself quipping, observing the way her mouth creased into a grin. 

“No need for a sharp knife when your meat is tender,” She purred, moving to the other side of the bed and removing her outer clothes, “Did you have a restful day?”

She seemed genuinely interested, and not for the first time you wondered where the wolf had gone. Shifting your tactics in the hopes of softening her, you gave a muffled answer. Mollified, she curled up as she had the night before and fell asleep almost immediately. 

You were gloriously shackleless and yet if you fled now she would probably crush your throat before both feet hit the floor. It was expected this first night, and probably the second, a test of your resolve and patience. The only way to go would be when she genuinely trusted your obedience. 

Ten days and a camp change later you were beginning to lose patience. She was vigilant, but considerate and it left you now windows of opportunity. You weren’t a hardened warrior as she had joked that first day, you were an apothecary with nothing to do but lounge around and be read to by a infamous warlord. You were beginning to feel mad, a life of leisure so roughly thrust upon you. The conditions only improved with the move and her tent now had its own bathroom, a humongous glistening tub calling to you. Ambessa had begun to ask you for opinions on her expansion plans, seemingly wanting to preserve the charm of your land whilst overpowering it with Noxian glamour. WIth your input she kept the old churches and allowed your people to tend to their lands if they swore allegiance to Noxus. 

In a gilded cage, miles away from your home, you weighed the advantages of staying entangled against the bliss of freedom. The guards were becoming more lax, allowing you to wander through parts of the camp and make friends with Mira and the other maids. She had not harmed you, save pulling your hair that first day and you were well provided for. She’d even managed to tug more substantial conversations from you, even when they lacked a business element. You’d told her of your journey to becoming an apothecary, and she had explained the first time wore armour, clattering to the floor mid fight. 

At night, as rain slammed down and the wind chilled your toes, you would gaze longingly at the doorway and then find yourself tugged into warm, firm arms. Much like reading time, you were held and pressed into her, scent dizzying. She smiled, you had noticed, when she cradled you in her sleep. Each time it would wipe the door from your mind as you succumbed to a more contented sleep. Most confusing of all, she was showing no signs of tiring of you as a ‘toy soldier’ as she had affectionately dubbed you. Nobody seemed to understand why you lingered in her space rather than being given your own, perhaps not even her. 

On the thirtieth day things shifted. After dinner, a heavy dress floating around your feet, you slipped back into the tent and were met with breathy, loud moans. Not Medarda’s, though she was clearly the cause. Hidden by the thick curtains, a high female voice begged and cried the warlord’s name, the creaking of your bed audible. 

Your bed. 

Her bed, you corrected grimly, embarrassment sticky in your throat. The noise ceased almost immediately after you had entered, and your feet froze to the ground. A nameless, unknown girl slipped from the bedroom, meeting your gaze with a pleasure struck face. A vapid giggle left her as she slipped past you. 

Ambessa appeared moments later, robe loose around her, with an easy expression. It darkened imperceptibly in your presence, though you felt the subtle chill. 

“I didn’t realise you were back, Warrior,” She muttered, voice heavy, “That wasn’t planned, I-I shall notify you if I intend to use our space like that,”

Our. 

Wait, did she think you’d be jealous?

“How the mighty have fallen,” You scoffed, unable to meet her gaze, “Shouldn’t I be fearing consequences from you, as the captive,” 

“You’re not the one with a new leg scar,” 

Touche. She seemed to hold you on a pedestal for that act alone and you had yet to decipher why. 

It was made clear by the flurry of people that the bedroom was stripped and remade. It calmed you, the faceless woman erased from the space though you and Ambessa lingered. You didn’t care what she did with her love life but you decided you didn’t need to know about it. 

Unfortunately, it was hard to avoid. Trysts, people trying to charm their way into your her bed as you ate at the communal table and several conquests leaving that you had to face the next day. It made your stomach ache, fingers dancing with nervous energy every time she lay next to you, her scent changing every so slightly if she had had company. Almost another month passed with you on tenterhooks, stuck between the safety of your leisure with her and the stain of sin on your sanctuary. 

The worst of all had to be tonight though. You had awoken alone for the first time, colder than ever, when you heard it. Ambessa’s blissful sigh. She was actively being pleasured in her armchair whilst you fucking slept. Through a crack in the curtain you could see tan legs kneeling just as you had that first night, between her thighs with their head on her skin. The notable difference was how they devoured her, pulling dark moans and filthy words from her gravelly voice. It was hard to ignore, her scent drenching you in the bed you shared as she used another’s body. You tried to stifle the noise, covering your ears and burrowing into the bed. This made the scent issue exponentially worse, especially when the mattress dipped and her still sex slicked body curled against your form. Her lips kissed your forehead, the burn of her skin scalding you. 

Her pleasure haunts your dreams, lurking shadows and echoing noise. Close, but just out of reach. For the first time you wake before her, skin muggy and unsettled as you dressed in a robe and wandered into the morning dew. The grass was beginning to have that telltale icy crunch, cracking under your velvet slippers as you slipped out of the camp unnoticed. Your thoughts sit like damp coffee grounds, thick and grainy as you fight the memories of the night before, choking what they make you feel. It was not jealousy, it was anger to be sure.

There was no direction to your wandering. The treeline called to you with its snowy arms reaching high, animals dancing through the dense white landscape. Not too far in the distance there stood a frozen lake and a childish part of you yearned to skate across it, your body moving you unbidden. It was larger up close, iridescent swirls of nature showing the loose water below. It reminded you of how you felt about your life now, about Ambessa. 

Fear and nostalgia sat steadfast as your ice, hardening your resolve and keeping your wit sharp, but beneath was the flow of her. In two short months she had managed to nurture your underfed body and mind, relishing in your rebellion and cherishing your input. The warlord existed so clearly to you, but you could not reconcile her with the reader who brewed you floral tea. One stirred anxiety and the other calm. Picking up shards of ice and flinging them across the lake, you attempted to untangle the Noxian web within you. Sparkles of sunlight grew higher as you stewed, beginning to blind you as you stepped closer to the edge, ice grunting under you. 

“I’m not sure you’re dressed for whatever this is,” Ambessa’s voice rang out, her body leaning against a tree. 

You had sensed her, though her movements were muffled, form tightening. 

“Something troubling you?” 

“Just fancied a walk,” 

“In a robe and slippers?” She snorted, “Some walk indeed,” 

“Did you need something?”

“You, Dear,” She muttered, at your back in an instant, “I woke up alone,” 

Your heart panged oddly, her presence fueling the rushing currents under the ice, as you lent into her warmth. “Here I am,” 

Her cloak engulfed you, dragging you under as her dulcet tones rasped in your ear, “Let’s get you home, Little one,” 

Home.

It occurred to you then as you stumbled back with her that perhaps you hadn’t been a prisoner in a while. Here you stood, free and yet wishing only to return to the warmth she had made for you. 

A bath was drawn and you crawled into it obediently. Her eyes were shut, though she cleaned your hair and muttered to you about her day to come. It was peace. It was bliss. It was your worst nightmare. Cold receded and you allowed yourself to slip into a warm lull. 

She left soon after, leaving behind new pyjamas and a sweetbread. You stayed in bed, as confused and dazed as those first weeks. 

That night you were awoken by the same wanton sounds in the living room and your nostrils flared, fingers crushing the softness of your sheets. Your emotions flopped again. You hated her. She was vile and infuriating and brutal and somehow constantly having fucking sex. 

When Ambessa slid into bed this time, sweet smells of pleasure wafting from her, you let out a growl. 

“DId I wake you?” She muttered, a smile etched on her lips. 

“You don’t touch me like that,” It slipped out, fury and turmoil.

“Pardon?” Her eyes had darkened, observing you curled and tense. 

“W-We do everything else, you treat me as an equal and give me freedom, but you use our space for cheap pleasures whilst I sleep,” 

“I was unaware it was a pro-”

“You don’t touch me like that,” It was a whine now, “Why?”

“You’ve never asked, little warrior,” Her voice was sin, soaking you and tugging you close, “I didn’t realise you were unhappy with me,”

“Please,” You croaked, gripping her forearm weakly, “I-”

Her lips were on yours, firm and rough, her tongue slipping into your mouth. Pretty girl, she thought, delicate and hers. You melted like butter, nuzzling close and stroking her grey curls. She was perfect, and you finally had all of her. Her fingers danced along your silk nightgown, cupping a breast with a firm hand. Leaning forward, she nipped at your neck as skilled hands massaged neglected flesh. You were keening instantly, eyes glossy and lips parted. 

Minutes drained away against her ministrations as your thighs rubbed together, the burn beginning to hurt as she teased your pebbled nipples in her mouth. Your nightgown was wet from her saliva, and the friction of the fabric with her tongue had you rutting against her thigh. Bruises were forming on your neck, your upper body ruined before she’d even undressed you. 

“Please,” It seemed the only word you could remember, puffy mouth slurring it at every opportunity. 

“Again,” She teased, finally ripping your clothes from you, “Louder,”

You pleaded and gasped, each word heightening your arousal, your desperation, as her fingers stroked your folds. She was kind, allowing you the pleasure you yearned for, slicked thumb rubbing circles on your clit as she stretched you slowly. 

Ambessa felt a swell of triumph. It had taken her endless hours of uncharacteristic kindness and stern patience, allowing you to cycle through defiance, anger and acceptance as often as you needed until you finally succumbed. You were drenched and mewling against her, sex drunk eyes stuck to her. It had been fulfilling, breaking you in, just as she had suspected when she caught eyes with a crazed, dirt covered woman with the audacity to wield a blade to her. 

Tugging orgasm after orgasm from you, cunt quivering and tensing as you drooled mindlessly, she relished in her victory. Her power was etched into you now. 

“Silly girl,” She cooed, voice a knife edge, “I knew I could make you mine,”

Her words cut through the tingling fog. You realised, with a dizzying stab, that you had always been her war prize, she just hadn’t conquered you till now. Each tender touch and measured interaction was to break you into her willing little toy and here you were, fucking yourself shamelessly on her thick digits. You would have been more hurt, a flare of resistance kicking in, if it weren’t for the unabashed love and satisfaction in her eyes. Well then, you guess you’d both been played. The mighty warlord may have broken you, reshaping your desires, but she had fallen in love in the process and you would relish that till your dying breath. 

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just use me months ago,” You quipped, starting a slow and methodical worship of her scarred body. 

“You wouldn’t have wanted it, warrior,” She muttered, amused by your acceptance, “I am many things, but I only fuck those who ask,” 

“I want it,” You sucked her nipple, humping her leg as her eyes slammed shut. 

“I know, doll,” Her hands pulled your hair, making you yelp happily, “You soaked my hand like a good girl to prove it,” 

For a moment, as you curled between her legs and began to eat like a woman starved, you wondered if this was the right choice. 

Ambessa let out a noise, confusing to your ears. It was nothing like the others you had heard in her time with others, it was delirious and light, happy pants slipping out as you sucked and fucked her with your tongue. She came quickly, face blank as she suffocated you with her cunt. Her touch, despite it all, was tender. She was yours and you were hers. 

There was nothing more right than that. 

[lomlhwa]

in the stars (c.bg)

pairing: alien!beomgyu x abduction victim!reader

preview: scientists didn't even know aliens existed until like, a week ago. now here you are on one of their ships being taken to their planet to repopulate their species.

tags/warnings: fem reader, monster cocks!beomgyu, two cocks, beomgyu has three eyes idk, tentacles...., his arms have suction cups, marking, oral (m.receiving), aphrodisiac use, knotting (?), breeding, dacryphilia, pet names (baby, my salvation, pretty girl), biting, praise + degradation, bulge kink, overstimulation, kinda subby beomgyu, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampies obvi

trigger warnings: abduction, forced aphrodisiac consumption

wc: 3.2k

song recs for this fic: e.t by katy perry

a/n: my goodness

walking through the forest near your house has always been calming for you. the peaceful quietness of the forest after dark is something you longed for all day. today was no different. a long day at work had you heading for the forest as soon as you got home. you gathered your flashlight, blanket and a sweater and locked your car. leaves crunched under your shoes as you disappeared deeper into the thicket.

the light of day disappeared quickly as you wandered deeper and deeper. by the time you found a spot to lay your blanket, the stars were starting to appear. you placed your fluffy blanket down on the ground softly, laying down to watch more stars litter the sky. this activity was something that had begun to be advised against. the discovery of aliens had made most people scared to be outdoors for long periods of time. 

you, however, were in denial about this supposed alien life that had been discovered. it felt like weird timing that you couldn’t put your finger on. therefore until you saw one with your own eyes, you wouldn’t believe anything about the aliens. the stars sparkle in the sky as the sky reaches its darkest state. you ponder on the extraterrestrial life that has finally shown itself. would they ever really invade earth? you wondered how the world would react to this kind of attack. 

you shake your head. the aliens aren’t real, there’s no invasion to worry about. the government just wants to make up a distraction for some scandal. you raise your arms to rest them under your head, admiring the beautiful sky. your eyes lock onto a star that seems much brighter than the rest of them. but not in a ‘northern star’ way, but in an unnatural way. you rise and sit cross legged, tilting your head in confusion. it almost seems like it’s getting bigger or, like, approaching you. 

you stand up and stare up at the light. you realize that it is, in fact, approaching you. the light gets bigger and bigger until a beam of light appears in a circle on the ground. it seems like the light is searching for something. you stand in place like a deer in headlights before deciding to get out of there. you leave all of your things where they were and start running. your quick movements seem to have alerted the light and it starts chasing after you. you run as fast as you possibly can, your legs working overtime. your foot catches on a branch and you come tumbling down onto the ground. 

the light settles onto you, the harsh wind from some kind of aircraft sending leaves and twigs flying. before you know it, your body is being lifted off the ground. you thrash around, trying to escape. before you know it, you’re reaching the source of the bright light. you see some sort of door open before you lose consciousness. 

____________________________________

you come to, the lights of a bright, white room blinding you. you squint, adjusting to your surroundings. your eyes struggle with the lights, the room feeling ten times brighter with the harsh fluorescents. your eyes settle on a dark figure in the corner of the room. the figure seems skittish, avoiding your gaze. “hello?” you say, your voice breaking. it feels like you had been screaming, but you have no memory of anything since being lifted into the air. 

your eyes adjust to see what looks like a person in the corner. you can see the person fiddling with their hands. “h-hello, human,” he responds. he sounds like he has some weird accent that you can’t place. he wanders closer to you, and you can finally get a better look at him. you know immediately that this is one of the aliens you were so in denial about. his arms up to his elbows  are a dark purple and so is his nose and the tips of his ears. it’s a beautiful shade but also very inhuman. he also has a third eye sitting in the middle of his forehead, between his other two eyes. his inner arms up to his shoulders  were adorned with small suction cups like an octopus. other than his obviously alien-like features, he looks relatively human. he has a pretty, dark wolf cut and two of his eyes are brown, despite his third one being a bright yellow. he has pretty, pink lips and flushed cheeks. he looks so nervous to be near you, despite being the one who abducted you. 

you try and get up out of the chair you’re in and find your legs to be strapped down, along with your wrists. “please, stay calm, don’t fight the restraints,” he speaks again, his eyes darting all over the room. anywhere but you. “why are you doing this? please, let me go. i won’t tell anyone about this,” you plead, worried your life is in the hands of this being. “i’m not g-going to kill you,” he explains. he almost seems more scared than you are. “i need your help.” you furrow your brows, confused. “for what?” you ask, tugging on your restraints again. “my people… they’re going extinct. there are no females left on my planet,” he trails off, his eyes staying glued to the floor. “i chose you to help me with… repopulation.”

your eyes widen so much that you’re worried they might pop out of your head. “repopulation!? no, no, no, i can’t help you with that,” you smile awkwardly, not knowing how to even react to this information. “i’m human and you’re… what are you? and who are you?” you ask, looking him up and down. “i’m beomgyu and i’m from venus. i’m a verenok,” he explains, as if it was nothing to you. as if you would understand. “okay, my point still stands. i’m a human and you’re an alien. how am i supposed to repopulate your planet if we’re of different species’?” you do your best to gesture at yourself, despite beomgyu not even looking in your direction. 

“w-we don’t have to be the same species. i just have to… uh…” he trails off and scratches the back of his neck nervously. “you have to what?” you ask, worry filling your tone of voice. “i have to knot you,” he blurts out. you look at him, confused. you had no idea what that meant but you can only assume it’s some sort of mating thing. when he scans your facial expressions, he panics and adds more to his statement. “it’ll feel so good, i promise. i have this pill to give you that will prepare you. it’s an aphrodisiac,” he reaches into the pocket of his pants and holds up a medium sized pink pill. before you can respond, he walks over to you and forces your mouth open. he drops the pill down your throat, followed by a syringe of water that seemingly came from the same pocket.

he looks at you with guilty eyes, seeming to immediately regret his decision. “i’m sorry. i just really, really  need your cooperation. i’ll be back in a bit once the pill starts working to see how you feel,” he explains before scurrying away and out the door. you open your mouth to call out to him, but it’s too late. you settle into your spot on the examination table you were currently strapped to. an aphrodisiac? did he seriously just force a sex drug down your throat? all you could really do was wait, either for him to come back or for the meds to kick in.

much to your dismay, the meds kick in long before beomgyu returns. you’re writhing on the table, your whole body burning. you clench your thighs together, desperate for any form of friction. you sweat profusely, your clothes sticking to your body disgustingly. “beomgyuuu,” you call out for him, you body basically begging for the man who had previously promised you sex. you begin to border on crying, your core so desperate to be touched. “gyu, please come back, i know you can hear me. i’ll help you, i promise. please,” you plead, your back arching and relaxing repeatedly. 

the door on the other side of the room opens and beomgyu pops his head in. “you’ll help me?” he asks, and you nod immediately. “yes! yes, please beomgyu. i’ll do anything, just please touch me,” you pull at your restraints, trying to get at him. beomgyu reaches into his pocket and suddenly your restraints are released. you’re quick to scramble off the exam table and crawl over to beomgyu who had slightly migrated into the room. you rest on your knees and place your hands in a praying position. “please, please, i need you to fuck me,” you beg. your eyes trail down from his eyes to his crotch that you’re eye level with. “i need you in my mouth, beomgyu, please.” beomgyu looks down at you with a shocked, but lust filled expression. “o-okay. go ahead, human.”

your mouth waters as you pull his pants down. your jaw drops when your faced with two giant, purple cocks. you barely know what to do with yourself at this discovery. you had had an inkling that he would be purple down here, considering the coloring of other parts of his body. “so pretty,” you mumble before connecting your mouth to the cock that sits below the other one. you wrap your hand around the one that isn’t resting in your mouth. beomgyu sighs in relief, his eyes crossing in pleasure. he staggers, his hands connecting to your hair. he strips himself of his shirt, revealing tentacles that sit on his ribcage. they’re long and seem to be able to elongate themselves. they move and wiggle down to your neck, wrapping themselves around and tightening ever so slightly. 

the bulge in your throat moved deliciously under his tentacles, his instincts taking over and tightening around your throat more to feel it better. you choke and cough around him, sinking your mouth further down to take more of him. your hand moves swiftly while stroking his other cock, making sure he feels the most pleasure you can offer. you feel some of the suckers on his tentacles attach themselves to your neck. they make a slurping noise when sucking against your skin, leaving dark purple circle marks on your supple skin. you dig your nails into his hips, finding that his legs are purple up to mid-thigh. 

you do your best to take the entirety of his length down your throat, but it’s physically impossible. beomgyu whimpers and whines every time you make an effort to take more of him down your throat. “okay, okay, fuck, i don’t think y-you want my cum down your throat,” he moves to push your head away from him and you pull him back. “gyu, please, need it,” you beg, giving the tip of his lower cock kitten licks. you take him back into your mouth and bob your head faster. you use your hand to jerk his other cock at the same speed, your body aching for him to cum for you. “please, please,” you chant, pleading for what you need. 

beomgyu’s breath gets caught in his throat as he finally finishes, his cocks releasing cum down your throat and on your face. your whole body shakes, the feeling of him getting off to your pleasure making you feel like an animal. you remove your mouth from him and swallow to the best of your abilities. you lick your hand and do your best to collect the semen from your face and shove it into your mouth. you find that his semen is very different from that of a human man. it’s sweet and kind of tinted purple. you almost feel hungry for more to consume. you look up at beomgyu and find that he’s still painfully hard. “get back on the table,” he demands. the tone of his voice completely shifting. 

you scramble to get yourself back to where you had started. beomgyu follows you just as quickly. as soon as you settle down on the examination table, beomgyu hooks his fingers under the waistband of your pants and strips your bottom half. your legs spread on their own, inviting him between your legs. the tentacles from his ribs slither to your core, one of them teasing your hole and the other finding your clit. he leans over you to connect his mouth with yours, kissing you with almost bruising force. he lifts your shirt over your head and discards it somewhere else in the room. he wraps his arms around your waist, the suckers on his arms squishing against you and sucking like his mouth would. you can feel that you’ll end up with hickies all over your body, your body turning a similar shade to beomgyu. “you look prettier like this, my salvation. you’re my color now.”

he presses firmly against you, his arms holding you in place, his cocks brushing your entrance deliciously. he peppers your face and neck with kisses while his tentacles move to wrap around your breasts. they attach and detach from your skin, leaving dark marks in their wake. “you can t-take both, right?” he asks as he moves one hand down to align himself properly. in your delirious haze, you find yourself nodding desperately. you were sweating and whining, your hole begging to be filled. “you’re acting like a bitch in heat, are you sure you’re not one of us?” he chuckles and you can do nothing but buck your hips against him. 

he squeezes the tips of both cocks together, doing his best to at least make the initial stretch less unbearable. you’re soaking wet and desperate, so you couldn’t care less how much this was going to sting. beomgyu shoves into you at an agonizingly slow pace, but it makes your brain absolutely go numb. it takes him probably a good couple minutes to fully bottom out at the speed he’s going. when he finally does, there’s a very obvious bulge in your lower stomach. your jaw hung slack as your body desperately tried to adjust. “so big… so good…” you mumble, lifting your head to look down between your legs and admire the way you look spread open. your eyes then trail up to beomgyu’s face and you’re met with the most beautiful sight.

the alien between your legs had his pretty bottom lip caught between his sharp teeth, his own eyes also admiring the way he disappeared into you. you could tell he was struggling to keep his eyes open, the pleasure overtaking him. his cheeks flushed a dark pink, seeming to be in disbelief that he had actually managed to get inside his human captive. “fuck, baby, you’re sucking me in like a good girl. i knew you’d be the perfect candidate,” he brushes a hand over the bulge in your stomach before using his arm to hold himself up over you. he runs his purple tongue over his fanged teeth, before scanning your body.

“need… please move,” you plead, clenching and unclenching around him repeatedly. finally, he draws his hips back, before slamming into you. you cry out immediately, the feeling being such an intense mix of pain and pleasure that your nerves have no idea how to react. you feel like your whole body is on fire, the aphrodisiac working its magic to make your body desperate for more despite being filled with two cocks. you grab him by the nape of his neck and connect your mouths, desperate for as much contact as possible. he wraps his arms around you again, placing them meticulously so that he fills the empty space on your torso with more dark purple and blue marks. 

he thrusts into you with so little mercy or care for your human state. he folds you in half, connecting his suckers to the backs of your thighs to keep you in place. his tentacles slither away from your chest and down to your core. one connects a sucker to your clit and the other forces its way into your hole along with his cocks. “gyu, fuck, need to cum,” your eyes burn with tears as your orgasm comes hurdling towards you like a train. “oh, my perfect salvation,” he mumbles against your mouth. “you can cum, but i’m not gonna stop. have to breed you,” he runs his tongue over your bottom lip as he finishes speaking before kissing you once again. your orgasm crashes over you and your whole body trembles in his hold. he holds you down tighter, your body beginning to fight against him from overstimulation. 

“oh, don’t fight it, pretty girl. you know you want more. you’re practically bursting at the seams,” he taunts you. he removes his mouth from yours before connecting it to your jugular. your legs shake and try desperately to close, but his strength is much more than yours. he kisses the side of your neck before sinking his teeth into a seemingly specific part of your neck. “mine, mine, mine, all mine,” he mutters. his possessiveness over you has you inching closer and closer to a second oragsm. he can feel you tensing again, and it’s perfect timing. “gonna knot you this time, baby. it’s gonna feel a little weird, but it’ll ensure that you’re impregnated.” 

you nod despite the fact that none of his words had actually registered in your brain. the tentacle that had been wriggling around inside you pulled itself out. as you came, you felt his cocks get impossibly bigger inside you. as the bases of his cocks swell and plug your hole, his whole demeanor changes. his previously mostly dominant behavior completely. he unsticks his arms from your legs and lets them rest on his hips. he leans on his elbows next to your head and strokes your hair. he looks at you like he’s never loved anyone more than you. “you’re perfect. i couldn’t have picked someone better, my salvation.” he swells inside you more and more, and you feel like you’re going to explode. 

finally, you feel him filling you to the brim with his cum, and you can almost feel that he’s filling you directly in your womb. the experience has you feeling drunk. your eyes cross and you drink in the feeling of him finally filling you up. your body is exhausted and it’s almost like his knot was the antidote for the aphrodisiac you had taken. he slowly pulls out of you, a glob of cum following him. he pants, wiping his forehead with his forearm. “okay, i’m gonna go get you some clothes and a towel, and then we begin our journey back to venus.” 

you raise your hand to your neck, feeling the mark of his teeth in your skin. your brain comes to an understanding that you are, in fact, his. you don’t mind all too much. “i’m sorry, i’ve never knotted anyone before. it’s a sacred practice that we’ve now shared,” beomgyu explains as he cleans you up and helps you put on robes similar to his. “um, we are mates forever now though.” you shrug, hopping down from the table. “that’s okay. i like you,” you smile and wander around the room. “i’m y/n by the way, since you never asked for my name.” you walk back over to him and admire his stature next to you. 

“ready to go home?” he asks you, and you nod. “let’s go home.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct- (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 4

(Since my computer died, I will use some of the other monster AU art I haven't used in a chapter yet instead. Hopefully I can rustle up another computer soon or get Ol' Peepaw Sammy (my 10+ year old laptop) to run my drawing software without having a heart-attack.)

Warnings: collaring, aggressive kindness, yanderes are rampant in this story, invasion of privacy, romantic yanderes, platonic yanderes, monster AU, some history for the monster AU, mention of Humans being eaten, Teachers and Crowley are going to have a ROUGH time, more characters being introduced, reader insert, fem reader, Driders, Crows, Minotaurs, Shadow-men, Selkies, Dragons, Fae, Bats, Harpies, Unicorns, Nemean Lions, Grim is less boisterous/confident in this AU given his rough life but he is still the sassy and clueless kitty-creature we all love, reader is called several affectionate pet names by platonic yanderes (Pup/Cub/Chick)

~~~~~~~~

"So... What happened here?"

You cuddled your new monster friend close to you as you looked upon the building you had been carried to by Rook. He had been swift to return you and the cat-monster you befriended to the building the supposed teachers had been leading you towards. Even as you sat on the large Spider's back and stared up at the building, you could see the apparent change that had overcome it.

It mostly looked the same as it had when you had run away from it, but there were several improvements and adjustments that had been made in the short time you were away. Where the windows had been boarded up, they were now all clean and fixed. Where the siding of the building had been in obvious disrepair and even falling off in some places, it now looked like it had received a needed bit of care and reconstruction.

"I can answer that!"

You let out a yelp at the sudden interjection, unconsciously reaching out to Rook's torso and clinging to the Spider man in fear. The way you yelped made your sudden visitor giggle in amusement at your behavior. Hanging from what appeared to be a dead tree branch above you was that same pink and black haired guy that had been in the Dragon's nest with you. He had an impish smile as he regarded you, that smile slipping ever so slightly as his eyes flicked over you and how tightly you held to Rook.

Rook was actually both amused and felt endeared by the fact that you grabbed onto him in a bid for protection from the Drider. It was so very sweet to him to see he had earned some goodwill and trust from you by rescuing you from the Undying Ursus Minor. Even when you relaxed upon realizing who was speaking, you very clearly held tightly to your soft companion, Grim.

"Oh? Did you make a friend out in the forest?"

The Bat Fae dropped from the branch, righting himself before he even hit the ground as he approached your little group. He took a long moment to look at Grim before he gained a kind of impish smile.

"I'll have to inform Malleus about your new charge. We wouldn't want this little one getting burned to a crisp by Malleus. Besides, I know how protective and adoring Children of Man can be when it comes to their cherished companions. The last human I met died for their companions."

Grim seemed unsettled by the Bat's presence and you could feel the way his torn wings seemed to pull closer to his body. Maybe it was the fact that the Bat had wings that were a lot like Grim's, and maybe it was the fact that this newcomer had been so keen to startle you. Regardless, you felt a strong need to protect your new friend as he was the only one who didn't seem to have some kind of twisted agenda planned for you.

"Anyway, Malleus and the other Housewardens showed up after you ran away- not a wise move, might I add- so several of them decided you should be somewhere safer than an old run-down building. Malleus did most of the fixing, but it seemed even Schoenheit was keen to make several additions to your accommodations. They're still mostly here, Malleus went back to his nest to give you some space."

You carefully slid off of the back of the large Spider man, noticing the unusual softness of his fur along the back of his Spider body. There was a kind of intimidation you felt now that you were back on level ground, as the height of Rook's Spider back did make you feel somewhat safer. Now you were on level ground and felt very small next to the blond who towered over you.

In some ways, you wanted to question the unusual Bat, but it quickly became clear you were not going to get that chance as the more adult-appearing men approached. The Crow was in the lead and was flanked by four others that seemed to be older than the monster men you had encountered en masse when you first entered this twisted nightmare land. Two of the men you recognized as the two who came with the Crow to retrieve you from the odd Dragon that had claimed you. The other two were unfamiliar to you, but no less beastly than the first.

One of them seemed to be an older man somewhere in his fifties with gray hair and clear creases along his brow and mouth. Attached where his lower half should have been was the body of some kind of big cat, a pair of oddly large wings sprouted along the shoulders of the cat body and the lower back of the man. He almost seemed to walk with a slight limp as his back leg had clearly suffered some kind of damage in the past.

The second newcomer was a man that seemed to be wreathed in shadows. All you could really make out from the darkness was the skeletal white mask adorning his face, lining up on the same place his own skull would be. His bright purple eyes pierced through the darkness and gleamed like gemstones beneath the brim of his top hat. He seemed younger than the others, but you found it difficult to accurately gauge his age due to the shadows that wrapped around him.

"Now that you're done racing off with no regard to your own health, foolish little chick, it seems I must have a lengthy conversation with you regarding the dangers that are ever present to someone as magically lacking as you."

~~~~~~~~

Several Housewardens and even a few Vice-Housewardens gathered nearby the Ramshackle building and watched the interaction curiously. It was true many had all pitched in to make the decrepit building a bit more liveable for you, but it was nowhere near the level of quality they believed an extinct species should have. They did what they could in the short amount of time they had, busying themselves with the project instead of charging headlong into the forest like many wanted to.

Rook and Lilia had excused themselves from the stern lecture the Crow was giving, opting instead to retreat to the nearby group. Many of those present took interest in Rook, as they could detect the scent he now carried due to carrying the fragile Human back to the safety of campus. A few even tried to take a subtle sniff of the Drider in an attempt to catch more of that uniquely Human smell.

"Roi du Poison, your faithful Huntsman has returned victorious with the little Human completely safe and sound!"

Rook was quick to take his place next to the peacock Harpy, practically beaming from the joy of another successful hunt. For all the beautiful muses Rook had claimed, he was closest with his muse Vil Schoenheit as the peacock Harpy had been one of the primary driving forces in Rook's life. From learning to care for his own appearance to taking care of Vil's pin feathers, he had few he could thank half as much as Vil.

Vil gave the slightest of smiles at having his second in command back by his side, his feathers ever so slightly rousing and fluffing out to show the Harpy was pleased. For all the eccentric behavior his Vice-Housewarden showed, Rook was nigh irreplaceable to Vil. Just knowing Rook had been the one to rescue the little Human was also another source of pride for Vil as it was another source of envy from the others.

"At least Rook can be trusted to bring the Human back promptly. I doubt the same would have been said of you, Leona."

The Nemian Lion was standing away from the group, but the clear way his ears angled back showed he was annoyed. Leona knew he wasn't trusted around the Human without supervision. He and anyone else from Sunset Savana would have to prove themselves 'domestic' to even be considered.

It was Sunset Savana that continued to eat Humans the longest and thus had been branded by the other Kingdoms and Queendoms as barbaric monsters. Leona didn't often pay attention in class- especially boring ass History- but even he knew the way Humans had been adored by so many others. Riddle went as far as not letting Leona out of his sight the second they arrived at the rundown excuse of a dorm. He knew the others wouldn't trust him around that fragile Human even with supervision.

"Piss off, Birdy."

Rook was not thrown by Vil's casual sniping towards Leona, the two proud Housewardens always seeming to be at odds. Instead, the Drider turned to the red-haired Unicorn with a pleasant smile.

"Roi du Règles, you will be pleased to know mon Trickster is Mademoiselle Trickster. You mentioned earlier you could sense her purity, non? That would make her a Human Maiden; the ideal boon companion for a Unicorn such as yourself!"

"Is she? Then it seems I must endeavor to even greater heights to protect her. No doubt the common rabble here will be eager to get at the only Human and only female on campus."

It was then a certain displeased yell split the air, originating from the Human in question. The shout unsettled the various students present and even managed to make Riddle almost rear from the sudden interjection.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

~~~~~~~~

You stared incredulously at Crowley, your hands resting over the collar that now sat securely on your neck. Despite how you pulled and groped at the material, you couldn't find a way to unlock it and free yourself from the new and rather dehumanizing feeling of being collared. Even Grim got himself a matching Collar, though his looked more like a pristine bow. Both his collar and your collar had a little device hanging where the tags would be on a dog's collar.

"You've made it more than abundantly clear that you will wander away to areas that can be dangerous to your health if you are allowed to freely roam. I can't have you ending your life prematurely simply because you didn't have the sense to stay away from something dangerous. That collar of yours will make it much easier to dissuade you from going places you shouldn't."

Grim was still trying to wriggle out of his collar while you glared angrily at the overgrown Crow who put it there. You eventually had to stop Grim as the little cat-creature was beginning to thrash and could hurt himself if he wasn't careful. Luckily, the little beast soothed with your touch and stared up at you through his mismatched and scarred eyes. Even though you wanted to lay into Crowley for daring to put a collar on the two of you like you were some kind of pet, the man who had introduced himself as Divus Crewel spoke up.

"I know you don't like the collar, but try to think of it from our perspective, sweet pup. You aren't a normal sight here or anywhere in our world. If certain ne're-do-wells caught wind of a Human living on our campus, they may try to poach you if given the chance. We don't want to give them the chance."

You frowned angrily at the men but also somewhat understood where they were coming from on the matter. Though you really couldn't grasp the concept of Humans being extinct- given the fact you came from a world where Humans were the only truly sentient species- you did somewhat understand where they were coming from. Classifying an animal as endangered only made an increase in the demand for pieces of said animal. They were certain Humans were extinct, so you were more than just a prized commodity to collectors and hunters alike.

"How does the collar help against poaching? If someone wanted to get me with an arrow or a knife, a collar doesn't do anything to stop that."

"That is true in most cases, but your collar is enchanted. The collar keeps track of your location and will alert us as well as the Housewardens if anything does try to harm you. It can't stop a full attack, but it can deflect minor magic."

"Why did Grim get collared too?"

"Because, though I am loathe to let a beast of the forest stay with you, it is better you have some kind of magical protection with you. His skills are subpar compared to a Housewarden, but it is still more skill and magic than you have available to you. Best to keep track of the both of you."

Grim didn't fight his collar anymore, but he certainly didn't look happy as his little torn wings drooped and his ears angled downwards. He was clearly quite displeased but didn't seem too upset despite the fact he did not sign up for this kind of treatment. Once he resigned himself to the collar, he slightly perked up and raised his lopsided gaze to meet that of Crewel.

"Hey, Seal-guy, does this mean I have to go to classes with my Hench-Hooman like a student and stuff?"

"It would be ideal to have (Y/n) attend classes, if only to keep her around professors and prevent the loneliness from negatively impacting her health. Humans were known to be a social creature, after all, and with no other Humans around the other students would be the next best thing."

"... So does that mean I can actually be a fancy-pants student and become the greatest mage to ever live?"

"Whatever keeps you by (Y/n)'s side. Though it may behoove us to enlist the aid of other students as well... They will have to prove themselves first, of course."

Crowley nodded along to Crewel's words as if they were the most obvious thing and you vaguely got the impression that the Crow really didn't realize what he was agreeing to. Though he was the Headmage- which to you meant he was the head of the school- he seemed far less aware of the situation as a whole and leaned on the other professors for that information. Something about him made you wonder why he was so eager to keep you on school grounds. It made you think back to his comment about the last human he met and you wondered if that had anything to do with how keen he was to keep you yet seemed keen to let the others take point in explaining things to you.

It was during this thought that the older looking man spoke, his voice aged and almost fatherly in how he spoke to you.

"Naturally, you are still the only true expert on Humans, being one yourself, so we will have to ultimately trust your judgement. I am of a mind with Divus that we should not be allowing a forest beast unrestricted access to you, but you seem to trust this Grim. Should you need something, you have but to ask us one of us. I also feel Mr. Rosehearts, Mr. Hunt, Mr. Draconia, and perhaps even a number of others would be keen to aid you. Don't ever go to Savanaclaw for aid. Though it may have been several hundred years ago, many of those from Sunset Savana and those of specific beastman lineages were instrumental in the extinction of Humans. Better to be safe than sorry with your safety."

He had been introduced to you as Mozus Trein, the History professor. Though you were curious as to why he seemed so fond of you, you figured it had something to do with you being Human and his natural love and fascination with history. You had to admit, it was nice that he didn't talk to or about you like you were a pet or some kind of exotic toy- an exotic animal, maybe, but not a pet. Most of the professors seemed to be of a similar mind- minus the Crow- and that somewhat helped put you at ease with them.

"So, does that mean it will only be Grim and I in here? No one else?"

"Well, the regular ghosts or fore fairies may pay you a visit and check in on you. Would you like someone to spend the evening here as well? I understand this is a new place and some company may put you at ease. It is my understanding that Mr. Draconia has already made a secondary nest in this dorm for you to use at your leisure, no doubt the others added beds or various furniture as well."

"No, I kind of like the fact that it's just me and Grim, I was just wondering because all of them are here," you gestured to the group of Housewardens and Vice-Housewardens nearby, "so I didn't know if they were staying or not. It is getting super late at night..."

"They should be returning to their dorms soon, though Housewardens and Vice-Housewardens are not bound by the same curfew as the other students."

He glanced at the others before back at you, a serious look of concern painting his features.

"Are you certain you would rather be alone tonight? Some wayward fools may try to enter the dorm when we leave."

The genuine concern in his expression and tone made you seriously consider his words. It was true that you didn't really feel very safe with anyone other than your small companion Grim, but the wizend professor did have a point. His prompting paired with the fact that you had made many poor choices for yourself this night did more to sway you than expected. You looked at the several monsters waiting nearby and had to conceed that someone keeping an eye out was not a bad idea given the already rocky start to your time in such a world.

"... I think you might have a point, actually..."

"How about this; you choose from the Housewardens and Vice-Housewardens who helped fix up this old dorm for you. Clearly they have at least shown they care for your wellbeing enough to put in an effort to make it livable. I will say now- however- should you choose Leona, I will choose someone else for you. I would love to say all our students are safe, but that just isn't the case and we can't take chances with you."

"That seems fair... But how do I know which one Leona is?"

"Leona is the Nemean Lion- ah, but I forget, you don't have Nemean Lions where you're from, do you?"

You shook your head. You could recall that there were Greek myths of Heraclies slaying a golden lion known as the Nemean Lion, but nothing like the monster men you have met.

"I will point him out when you decide who you feel is safest to stay with you."

"Okay. Grim, want to help me choose?"

The stout creature smiled eagerly in response to your question, holding up his front legs for you to pick him up. He was not like a cat in the sense that he was thrilled when you held him, but he did seem to enjoy your warmth and the fact he didn't have to walk when you carried him. As you cuddled Grim, professor Trein began to lead you to the group.

It was easy to feel somewhat safe with the older man and you kept close to his side as you two approached the group of fellow students. They all looked curious at the fact that you and the professor had approached them first. Perhaps you were going to thank them or ask them for something else to help you settle in.

"Listen up, you lot. I would hope others have enough common sense to leave (Y/n) here alone, but we all know that isn't going to happen. Since you are the ones that actually showed up to ensure our only Human is safe, it is safe to assume you care what happens to (Y/n). We feel it would be best to have either a Housewarden or a Vice-housewarden remain here for the evening in the event someone tries their luck."

Professor Trein then glanced back at you, nodding his head towards the group in clear invitation to approach. As you drew close, you couldn't help but take note of how all eyes quickly fell on you. Some of the people there were familiar to you, and some were not.

Rook was among the familiar, same with the Harpy that stood next to him. The only one whose name you recognized was Rook's as he had been the only one to actually introduce himself to you.

"... Can I choose Rook? He's the only name I know..."

"I would happily accept, Mademoiselle Trickster, but there is one far fairer and better than I at all but hunting. I suggest you choose Roi du Poison, the beautiful Vil Schoenheit."

The Spider man made a sweeping arm motion to his side towards the Bird man, as if he were presenting the Bird man to you. The Bird in question seemed surprised by the sudden introduction but took it in stride and instead turned his purple eyes to you. As you locked eyes with him, something odd happened. His feathers seemed to quiver before the feathers atop his head raised, his tail feathers doing the same to create an almost dazzling display of iridescent colors. He was clearly a peacock Bird man, but what didn't make much sense to you was why he was showing off for you. You didn't think you were really worth showing those feathers to since you weren't a Bird like him.

"You are welcome to choose one as fair as me, little Human. I will ensure your safety to the furthest of my capabilities."

It almost seemed like the peacock were trying to make himself seem like the best choice, showing off colors and strength in an effort to have you choose him. If anything, you weren't the only one who was surprised at seeing such a display from the peacock. The others seemed almost shocked by this showing of feathers but someone was clearly far less than pleased upon seeing Vil posturing for you.

"Absolutely not! I refuse to allow anyone who does any kind of display dance for her to be permitted anywhere near her. I would have your head if you weren't my senior, Vil! Such a maiden should not be accosted by eager men who only see her as a breeding toy. Professor, I demand you override this choice and select me to guard this Human. I shall uphold every rule the Queen has set and I will not allow such tomfoolery to burden this Human."

Vil seemed angered by this as his feathers ruffled and stood on end, eyes glaring angrily at the offending Unicorn man. The wickedly sharp tallons on the ends of the Bird's fingers seemed to only be sharper when displayed with such clear disdain for the Unicorn. It seemed like a fight was on the verge of erupting before Grim's voice interrupted them.

"I don't like any of them! Maybe the Spider-Drider-guy, but this is my Hooman which means I should choose who protects us!"

"Are you-? What the hell is a 'Hooman'? She is a Human, not 'Hooman' and I don't appreciate your casual disrespect for her species-!"

It was during the Unicorn's rant that you interrupted, feeling angry that the man would dare talk to Grim like that. Sure, you found it odd that the cat creature called you Hooman, but you certainly didn't mind it either. Even above all of that, Grim was your friend and these men were not.

"And who said it was your place to correct him? I know what I am and I think it's cute he calls me Hooman. What I don't appreciate is how you think you can yell at him! He can call me Hooman if he wants, you are not afforded the same privilege! And I have a name. It's (Y/n) (L/n), so don't you dare ever call me anything else."

Your sudden snapping at the Unicorn clearly surprised and unsettled him as he took several steps back, almost seeming like he was about to rear from your yelling. Even though his blue eyes stared in absolute surprise, you felt no need to back down and if anything you wanted to chase off the delicate Unicorn for daring to raise his voice at Grim. A light chuckle met your ears and drew your ire away from the Unicorn and to another familiar grinning face. It was the pink and black haired Bat.

"Keeheehee, seems she doesn't like you very much Riddle. Or, it could be that Humans are traditionally a pack-bonding species and little Grim is now her pack. Clearly Riddle isn't your choice, so who actually will be?"

You frowned at this question and went back to looking at the group, Grim seemed to be doing the same as he purred and snuggled down into your arms. From those you now knew, you still figured either the Bat or Rook would be best. It was then someone else caught your eye bringing you to a halt as you stared at them.

He had sun kissed skin and dark mahogany hair. Even as he stood in the light of the moon, he almost seemed to have a golden glow that wrapped around his scowling figure. When he noticed you looking at him, his bright green eyes narrowed ever so slightly before looking away from you. His actions were as if he were trying to dissuade you from picking him despite the fact he was among the group. You vaguely recognized him from the many who you first saw when you came tumbling out of the coffin.

"Choose someone else, Mousey. They won't let you pick me, I might gobble you up."

"I'm not a-"

"Yes, you are. You are a little Mousey herbivore of the only sentient species Nemean Lions dared to feast upon."

"Nemean...? You're Leona?"

"I'm surprised you even care enough to know my name. Leona Kingscholar, second prince of Sunset Savana and Housewarden of Savanaclaw. Careful, Mousey, you aren't safe around me. I may not have tasted Human before, but I'm willing to break several laws to give it a try."

He almost seemed like he was trying to actually get you away from him, a look of vague sadness hiding behind his smouldering emerald eyes even as he glared at you. There was more to this tale than he was telling but you knew he wasn't going to give you the information you wanted. With another long look at the golden Lion, you turned you gaze back to the group as a whole.

"I guess... Since the Dragon- Malleus, if I'm remembering properly- isn't here, I'll pick the Bat."

"Aww, I'll be sure to let Malleus know you wanted to pick him. I'm sure he'll be pleased. I can keep an eye on you and make sure those other whippersnappers don't come sniffing around. Keeheehee, cute that you call me Bat, but I also have a name if you feel like using it. Lilia Vanrouge, at your esteemed service, (Y/n). Malleus is my primary ward, but he certainly wouldn't be too displeased if I kept an eye on his hoard as well."

You nodded, wondering just why the Dragon decided you were one of his but not willing to question Lilia as to the true motives just yet. It almost seemed like those present fixed Lilia with a jealous sneer as the Bat happily joined your side. Trein simply nodded, accepting your choice as it was not Leona- whom he planned to berate for threatening you- and was a fairly safe choice. Lilia was of the few who had encountered a Human before in his many centuries, so no doubt he would be safe around you.

"It is decided then. I shall see you in my class tomorrow, (Y/n). Do not hesitate to reach out to me should you need anything. Your other professors and I will be working on getting you a phone to communicate with us faster. For now, sleep well, little cub."

[todaystarot]

What Will Your Future Child Love About You?

- a pick a card.

one two three

explanation.

I always see people say that there are many forms of love, not just romantic. Which, they are correct in. Yet, they still have a narrow view on it and refer to friendship as an example, or if they are big hearted their pet… Which is completely fine, I just felt a desire to create a pick a card that’s focused on love but none of those things. I never saw a pick a card with this topic before, neither on youtube or on tumblr. Could just be me though. Felt like making it anyway. If you don’t want children, that’s cool, I chose this topic because I would like to be a mother one day. This reading also applies to the first child you will have, or you know, the next one.

disclaimer.

Remember to take things with a grain of salt, and only take what resonates. Not because I don’t trust my skills, but because several people read pacs, what’s not meant for you could mean the world for someone else. Besides, this is for entertainment and the energy surrounding you or the overall situation could change any second. Life is unpredictable.

how to pick your pile.

There is always several ways to pick a pile, and sometimes maybe multiple call for us. You can pick the one that you can’t take your eyes off, even if there’s another picture you might find prettier. You can ask your guides to guide you in choosing a pile, or go with the old regular closing your eyes and picking whichever one your eyes land on. I usually do that too.

proof read?

Unfortunately no. Please know that I would never put anything in my PAC with harmful intentions towards you or anybody else.

one

You, my dear pile one will be so loved for so many reasons! It’s truly incredible. Even though you might not think that you will be an awesome parent - maybe now, maybe in the future -, trust me, your child will think otherwise! First of all, they will have this adoration towards you staying calm even in stressful situations and knowing how to handle things, how to take care of them and provide a solution and smooth things out. This is will make them feel safe next to you, and with time calm down as they see that you yourself are calm too. Of course, you wouldn’t always be calm, but you wouldn’t show even when you are scared so there is someone grounded in the situation that can take charge even if just on an emotional level. - I am saying this because your spouse will help you out when things are hard, not because you aren’t capable. -

Another thing here seems to be that you will respect their privacy and love life, as long as they are safe you will let them love safely and explore their interests as much as they need to in order to be happy. You let them be independent all while allowing them to rely on you and come to you when they need it. They know that this isn’t something everyone has, so they are all the more grateful to have someone like you as their parent. You are not invasive, you are not judgmental but so full of love, acceptance and understanding towards them. Maybe because you had a childhood where you weren’t happy, so you will do your best to give them everything good that you couldn’t get to have. Full of love, and they will remember it for the rest of their life.

📜 nine of swords, two of cups reversed, four of cups, page of swords reversed, queen of cups side ways, knight of swords side ways - facing the other way -, three of wands

confirmation.

high school musical , adele , nelly - dilemma , ‘i will love you till the day that I die , someone in this pile had to give up on their dream to be a singer/musical artist, hamilton, ‘vanessa open the door please’, ‘ (…)running out of time’ , 777 , city girl , virgo - do you have tummy issues? - , rihanna & eminem / asap rocky , pink nails but w a lot of charms , diverse pile

two

Alright, so I will be honest with you. Your next child will have some developmental issues, but not necessarily life threatening ones. - neither in a sense of d*ath or having trouble living on their own. they will just need a bit of help. - While asking your questions I stuttered a lot despite being calm, so I honestly think your child will have speech issues. Maybe potentially this could be genetic, or anything of the sort.. They will love you because even if you will have a hard time, where your mental health or emotional state will be tested you will never ever in your life will give them a hard time for whatever it is that they are struggling with. You will be loving, kind, gentle and patient with them. Instead of forcing them to learn in a pace which will stress them out you will be the one to learn how to understand what works best for them, and do that. They will really appreciate this. Honestly, regardless of whatever this issue is, I feel sorry because they have such a sensitive heart. Even if they shouldn’t, there is just some things they take to the heart and might feel like they are the problem even though they didn’t do anything. Such a pure child, the sort that’s very well behaved, kind to adults and friendly to their peers.. so these thoughts really could just come from overhearing and misinterpreting conversations or perhaps just overthinking. The funny thing is, I do think you would be their safe haven because they know you would never judge them no matter what heartbreak they are going through. It’s like they can’t imagine a life without you.

Now, I don’t mean to be an asshole or scare anyone unnecessarily. I am not a doctor and I will never be, but the ace of cups reversed here can represent miscarriages or pregnancy complications. So please if you are a woman look after your health. I don’t mean to scare you bc at the end of the day this is a collective general reading and we don’t know each other, but it’s always nice to look after your health regardless.

On a MUCH brighter note though, they will truly appreciate whenever you support their interests. They might be a book worm, so if this is something you two have in common they could happily share their interests with you! They will do it regardless, but your baby would get so excited if you show interest in them.

You will also stand next to them and support them no matter what they go through in life, let that be good or bad, which is something they will really appreciate.

📜 six of pentacles reversed, knight of pentacles, four of wands, ace of cups reversed, the heirophant, the high priestess, seven of pentacles

confirmation.

twilight , renesme , butterflies , cross necklace , bbc , orange hair and freckles - this is for someone who will have a little boy - , ocean green eyes , what was I made for - Billie Eilish , 5sos , ‘i bet on losing dogs’ , mother mary , flashing lights , genetic , obsession with beats / drums ? - not for the child, a reader in this pile -

three

Your child, will sometimes give you headaches.. but they will really love you. If you have ever seen modern family then they sort of remind me of Hailey in the earlier seasons. Bratty, picks fights, doesn’t always understand where her mom is coming from but sees all the hard work that she does and appreciates and loves her mother - both parents really - quite deeply. Not to say I am calling your child bratty, or a brat. That’s not where I am going with this, rather your guides pulled towards letting you know this first so you don’t misunderstand the rest of the reading.

They will, first of all, love that you will give them everything that you can. Y’all will be pretty well off. Not only will you guys be able to live comfortably but they will have a few unnecessary things that they don’t even need or probably forget about in a few years after getting it. They are not ungrateful, rather the opposite. They know this is a privilege, they don’t look down on those less fortunate than you guys, they are just grateful that they have a parent that cares about them so much they would give them everything they ask for, even if things aren’t always the brightest. You also, always, without any question get them out of any trouble or uncomfortable situation and defend them. Won’t matter if they are in the wrong or not, that’s your baby and you will stand by them!

They also love to travel with you! They enjoy your company a lot and to make memories, they always look forward to exploring the world with you. They might also follow you around like a little duckling, even if you only go to the store or to do some super boring errands. Honestly, your kid is an extrovert and super clingy. In a cute way though for sure.

Your dynamic with them reminds me of a tiktok I saw months back, where the teenage kid was piggy back riding the mom and she was annoyed as she recorded saying “look what I have to deal with”, but in reality she truly just appreciated the love. Such an easy going and regular pile, love that for y’all.

📜 nine of pentacles, seven of pentacles, the hermit reversed, knight of swords, four of wands, six of swords, three of wands

confirmation.

thrift shop - macklemore , old house in the balkans/europe in summer - ?? so specific, did you travel back to your home country in summer or planned to? - , moonlight , witch craft , snake , ‘i know a place we can escape ‘ , those fluffy slippers that are like plushies & soft pjs , airplanes , power wires , lime - & cheetos ?? -

[dark-konohagakure2]

orochimaru making fem reader and sasuke have sex as he guides them :3 lots of praise and daddy kink on oros part, sasuke and the reader are inexperienced virgins

tw: mutual noncon, voyeurism, daddy kink, praise, implied orosasu, breeding, butt plugs, forced orgasm

All characters depicted are 18+

Orochimaru is a very smart man, he's able to see the flaws with some of his plans, including his latest plan to obtain a perfect vessel. Once he takes over Sasuke's body, there won't be anymore Uchihas left for him to use as a vessel (except Itachi, but that didn't go very well the first time), but Orochimaru is smart, he knows that if he can't find a new Uchiha, he can just make one.

Orochimaru wishes he could simply impregnate Sasuke himself, his intelligence combined with the Uchiha's genetics and beauty would be an incredible vessel, but alas, he'll need to settle for the next best option: forcing Sasuke into making a child with one of Orochimaru's many prisoners.

He'll call Sasuke to his personal quarters under the guise of teaching him a special jutsu, only for Sasuke to show up and become confused when he sees Orochimaru waiting with a female prisoner. The Sannin won't bother explaining himself, simply ordering both of the young adults to strip, and they're left with no choice but to obey.

Orochimaru is incredibly creepy and invasive during the entire process, spreading the girl's pussy with his fingers and giving information and directions to the unnerved Sasuke, telling him what each body part is and what to do with it, both for Orochimaru's grand plan and his own sick enjoyment.

"Now now, my dearest Sasuke, you're a big boy now aren't you? All you have to do is stick your lovely cock inside of her and fuck her until you make a new baby for Daddy..."

Orochimaru will watch intently, almost unblinkingly, as Sasuke clumsily thrusts into her, both parties being equally reluctant and unsure of what exactly they're supposed to be doing. The long haired man can't resist helping them out a little bit, praising them along the way and occasionally guiding Sasuke's inexperience thrusts into her.

He practically has to physically restrain himself from touching himself to the sight, that would ruin the lovely spectacle he's put into motion, instead contenting himself with watching, and he can always have one of his lovely little pets take care of him later.

Sasuke looks both nervous and angry the entire time, and he must be shy too, because he hasn't cum yet even after several minutes of thrusting. Orochimaru can't have that, he's not a very patient man, so he'll take matters into his own hands, gently forcing a lovely little vibrating toy inside of Sasuke, the vibrating sensation against Sasuke's prostate being enough to force the Uchiha into an intense orgasm, spewing his load directly into the prisoner underneath him.

Orochimaru is more than pleased with how his little experiment went, in more ways than one, and he'll be sure to praise his darling less than willing participants for their contributions, although it's a bit more than clear that Orochimaru is playing favorites with his 'children'.

"That's my good Sasuke, such a good boy for Daddy... Only a true prodigy like yourself could make an unremarkable girl like her useful for my plans... now I wont have to worry about my next vessel..."

The Sannin considers this latest experiment of his to be a complete success, not only does he get a new host body in just nine months, but he has the perfect memory to look back on whenever he's fisting his cock late at night.

[melonnmiru]

being a professional volleyball player had gotten kiyoomi an onslaught of— albeit, somewhat unhinged, fans.

he'd never say he hated his fans. in fact, he appreciated their constant support for his growth as both a person and a way too attractive volleyball player. however, the way some of them would show their support was rather... unique for his standards.

the two of you were sprawled out on the couch, you mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, and him ultimately deciding to do the same. this was one of the few times he ever even went on the damn app and the first thing he's greeted with is an edit of him from his most recent game. he somehow felt inclined to open the comments but a part of him knew his scowl would only deepen if he did.

you leaned over and tried to smooth out the crease in between his brows with a hum. "you gotta give them credit, 'omi. you look really hot there."

"it's a 15 second video of me drinking water."

"still hot."

he rolled his eyes, switching his phone off and leaning on your shoulder. you went back to running through his hair with one hand, and scrolling on tiktok with the other.

while kiyoomi was mainly focused on how nice it felt to have your fingers gently carding through his hair, he was also listening along to the random audios that played each time you scrolled onto another video. eventually, a song oddly familiar to kiyoomi started up on your phone.

wait.

kiyoomi paused, turning to look up at you in a comically slow manner with a grimace painted on his face. you bit back a laugh at his sour expression, batting your eyelashes back at him. "what's wrong, my sweetheart, honeybunch, sugarplum, light of my life?"

"ignoring those disgusting pet names— is that the same edit i just saw?"

the familiar song played faintly as you offered him an innocent grin. you glanced at your phone then back at him, quickly swiping up. "edit? don't know what you're talking about."

alas, the algorithm knew you a bit too well. maybe it was coming after you with the fact yet another kiyoomi edit popped up after you swiped. the two of you stared at the screen silently, your thumb sliding over to press another button.

"...what a coincidence, huh 'om-"

"did you just favorite it?"

you didn't respond. he shifted closer to grab your phone, you leaned away. this ultimately led to you and kiyoomi wrestling for your phone. as you two were tugging at your phone, it slid to unsurprisingly, another kiyoomi edit.

"i'm gatekeeping these, get off!"

"they're literally edits of me!"

eventually, he decided to dig his fingers in your sides, causing you to break into what sounded like a mixture of a scream and manic laughter. he smiled triumphantly, using his free hand to grab your phone from your— now weak grasp and going straight to your favorites.

he scrolled through the random collection of cooking tutorials he knows you won't do, cat videos you've shown him multiple times, and of course, edits of him. from clips of him from interviews to his monstrous spikes, you had it all.

"this is— an invasion of privacy!" you whined, trying to get your phone back to no avail. kiyoomi looked through all your saved edits with an amused look. "think you might be even more obsessed than these fans." he teased, his shoulders shaking as a chuckle escaped his lips.

"god, can't someone enjoy videos of their jaw-droppingly handsome, gorgeous, hot, attractive boyfriend in peace?"

"not when you're right next to said handsome boyfriend, watching those videos on the highest possible volume."

you waved off his quip, "details, details." you propped your head on his shoulder and watched in silent amusement as he regrettably decided to open the comments on one of the edits. he's not even sure how some of these comments slipped past community guidelines, while some were rather tame, gushing about how good he looked, some were so depraved he thought he was going to get permanent frown lines just by looking at them.

"if you though that was bad, you should see what i say on twitter."

for the sake of his sanity, kiyoomi decides against checking your twitter account.

my 31 pending school reqs will not stop me from kiyoomi posting!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Olde Bakery 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: mob!Syverson, plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The man squeezes until you ache. His nails dig into your flesh as his eyes devour you. Your cleavage swells as he toys with you. You quiver and ball your hands to keep from keeling over.

Your confusion mingles with disbelief. Your eyes wet with futility. Why is he doing this to you? He doesn't even know you? You don't even know his name. Though you know what he can do.

He slips his hands around you and steps closer. You lower your eyes as you struggle to take a full breath. His thick fingers pick at the back of your bra. He tugs and pinches but only unclasps one hook. Impatient, he wrenched with both hands and snaps the others free.

You jolt with his strength. He roughly rips the straps down your arms and exposes you completely. You whimper and fold your arms to hide.

He hums and grasps your shoulders. He pushes until you drop your arms. His gaze makes your skin crawl.

"You take off the rest for me, kitten," he commands in a grizzly timbre.

His voice bristle through you. You can't deny him. Slowly, he lets you go. As you reach for your waistband, he tweaks your nipples and growls again.

"Mmm, tasty," he grits.

You sniffle and shimmy down your pants. He steps back to let you shed them. He drags his fingers up and down your stomach and again fondles your chest.

"You sit pretty for me, sweet thing," he bounces your tits one last time and draws away.

You gulp and sit in the chair. The wood is cold against your naked ass. You see past him the large windows. Anyone could see in. They probably already have.

He cracks his neck loudly and pops his knuckles. He rests his hands on his belt and picks the button open. He splits the zipper and spreads it wide. You whimper as he reaches under his gray boxers. He pumps himself before bring his dick above the waistband. You stare at his shirt, mortified.

He steps closer as you shiver and clutch your hands tightly over your lap. He brings his hand up to pet your hair and glides around to the back. He cradles your skull as he grips himself in his other hand.

"Now, kitten, you be nice and soft for me," he ligthly presses his tip along your lower lip, "open up."

You bat your lashes and look up at him with a pleading pout. Your tears pour out and trickle down your cheeks. He shifts his hand and stretches his thumb to trace the wet path left by your fear.

"Shhhh, kitten, I can be good to you," he leans into you and pushes until you unlock your jaw.

You let him in and he groans. Your warmth hugs him snugly and he drones in delight. He inches inside and shudders. He splays his finger around your head and forces himself deeper, letting out a guttural groan.

"Mmm, yes, you are sweet," he wiggles his hips as you gag and your tears leak out unchecked. He slides back and you quake, only for him to smother you again with his thick length. Your throat aches around his intrusion. "Think I'll be taking you to go.”

He thrusts again and you grasp at the front of his pants. He rocks, groaning as he brings his other hand under your chin. Your jaw aches with each invasion, each gruelling delve down deeper.

"Mm, sweet thing," he snarls as he locks your head in his grip and holds you still.

He works his hips faster and faster, fucking your face as you sit helpless to his onslaught. Your push a hand up his stomach, begging with gulps and gags for him to slow. Saltiness mingles with your saliva as it smears around your mouth and across your cheeks, wetting your nose as it spreads along his pelvis.

You gurgle and roll your eyes back, your head throbbing and cloudy. He grunt and pumps harder and harder. You feel him tense and tremble. Before you can brace yourself, he finishes with a stifled roar.

He empties himself down your throat, drowning you in the deluge as he fucks his cum deep. You cough and your mouth overflows, a sickly dribble down your chin. He stays buried in you then slowly eases out.

You spasm as you restrain the swell of sickness as your gag reflex twitches. He traces his tip around your lips to smear the mess around. He hums and pulls away, letting out a shaky breath as he does.

You cover your lips as you fight the bile brewing beneath the mouthful. Your lashes flutter as you try to decide what to do. He tuts as he swipes a napkin from the holder on the counter.

“Don't you be spittin’ that out. You swallow down my sugar,” he demands.

Your eyes round as you struggle not to revolt. You seal your lips and your throat clenches in a painful gulp. You push your lips out and try to mop up the tears with your knuckles.

“Aw, kitten, you ain't never had a real man, have ya?” He tucks himself away and zips his fly. “Well, aren't many of those ‘round here, huh?”

You sniffle and rest your hand on your chest, just against your collar bone. You inhale and let it out carefully, trying to calm yourself. He bites his lip as he considers you.

“Think I'll be taking a coffee now,” he bends to scoop up the apron and tosses it at you, “and one of them cinnamon buns. Looks almost as sweet as you.”

You catch the fabric and stare at him. He passes you and you stare at the windows. You slowly uncrumple the apron and stand. You tie it on and turn away from the chair.

You go behind the counter and grab a porcelain mug. You fill it with medium roast and pick out one of the glazed buns. You bring both to the table where he sits calmly.

“I'll take some cream,” he says, “had my fill of sugar.”

[tinylongwing]

Top five small birds go

PICKING ONLY 5 is CRUEL but I don't have time for 10. Species names will have the links to photo sources where applicable.

Long-tailed Manakin. They take like 4-5 years for the males to learn their dances and each year they look a little more like adults to match their experience! They are little and yet have very long tails!! And cute little caps! Very elegant tiny birds.

(Photo by me, bird handled and released on site with permits as part of MoSI, a long-running collaborative research program).

2. Wrentit. Look past the plain gray exterior, let me teach you some BIRD FACTS because these guys are basically aliens. They live in a very small part of the west coast of North America in scrub/chaparral, and we still don't really know how they got there or where their nearest relatives are or what birds they're even related to, though recently they think maybe it's parrotbills, which are otherwise mostly found in SE Asia.

During the breeding season, most female birds develop a brood patch, a section of bare skin on the belly for aiding in heat transfer to the eggs, and most male birds develop a swollen cloaca to facilitate sperm transfer. In some species where males help incubate, they also get brood patches. This is fine. Male Wrentits get brood patches. A little weird but not too crazy. Female Wrentits, however, get a swollen cloaca? Why?? Nothing else in North America does this? I don't.... understand.

Also they're cute, they have a song that's like a bouncy ball going down stairs, and males and females have slightly different songs, so even though we can't determine the sex in the hand like with normal birds, at least if they sing you can tell. Normal birds don't sing when being handled. Wrentits definitely sometimes do. I don't get it. But I love them for it.

(Photo mine, bird banded and released on site with permits as part of MAPS, a long-term research program).

3. Calliope Hummingbird. Itty bitty tiny creature, would absolutely spear you to death with its face if it thought it could pull that off. Hummingbirds in general are territorial and aggressive and these guys are no exception. Also they're beautiful. Look at that starburst of a face!

(I have photos but don't want to go dig them up, I'm lazy)

4. Java Sparrow. Help, I'm hopelessly charmed by how adorable they are. Unfortunately, apparently everyone else is too, and these are now critically endangered in their home range of Java due to habitat loss and poaching for the pet trade. The good?? news is they're also super invasive in places like Hawaii, so they're not about to go globally extinct, so that's cool, I guess.

5. Micronesian Rufous Fantail, formerly just Rufous Fantail, aka chichirika na'abak because look I don't know proper indigenous names for everything but I do for my study birds and I support their use. Chichirika is CHamoru for "showoff" and na'abak is "the one who will lead you astray", after the local stories of kids trying to follow these delightful little low-flitting creatures through the jungles and getting hopelessly lost, leading to village search parties.

Anyway, look at that tail!! Go listen to their cute little squeaks! I'm absolutely in love. I've banded literal hundreds of these and they never ever get old. Every single one of them is a treasure to me.

(Photo by me, bird banded and released on site as part of my very most beloved own tropical forest bird research program in the Northern Mariana Islands).

[kaijutegu]

I got Kaiju's ashes back. I'm having some of them fused into jewelry. Just having them physically home is a massive weight off of my chest. My heart is still on the ground but it's a little less bad than it was.

There was a comment on one of the recent posts- "The condolences of an internet stranger mean less than nothing." That's not true. That's not true at all. The condolences of internet strangers have been getting me through this- I keep going back and seeing names I recognize, names I don't, and realizing just how much she mattered.

One of the most important things that's keeping me going is her legacy. Kaiju mattered to a lot of people- not just me. She mattered to you. She mattered to my students. She mattered to the people she met at herp society. She mattered to the kids who met her when I took her to schools. She was more than just my best friend- she meant something to a lot of people. She showed people how smart and loving tegus can be, and she also showed them how cunning and adaptable they are. There are people out there who know about the threat of invasives in the Everglades now, because of her. There are people who improved the lives of their own animals because of her. There are little kids and big kids who made real, genuine connections to her.

But it wasn't just the connections she made- I made them too, and figuring out who I am without her in my life is pretty impossible because so much of the good I have in my life came from her. She was my icebreaker, and she was part of how I met people. I started blogging because of her, and because of that, I met some of the people I love most in this world. I wouldn't have ever met two of my very closest friends without her, people I can't imagine not having in my life. She helped me take care of myself on days when I couldn't get out of bed for any other reason, and she never expected anything from me. Having her in my life made me happy in a way that nothing else ever has. I don't know who I am anymore, because I don't want to be the person I was before I had her. As medically miserable as I am now, I used to be a lot worse. She changed that.

Kaiju and I had ten, almost eleven incredible years together. It wasn't enough, but no amount of time would have been. In the end, she died warm, comfortable, and being petted by someone she cared about. She wasn't alone, and didn't seem scared or agitated. The last thing she knew was love, and that's all I could want for her.

For me, I just want my best friend back. I know that's not gonna happen, but it doesn't stop the want.

[weaselle]

It's almost thanksgiving, and I want to talk about dogs and bones.

It took me forever to understand why I couldn't give bones to our dogs because no one ever explained it, and i was like "but wolves and coyotes and foxes and things totally eat bones all the time, i've seen tons of footage of wild canines eating bones" and it never made sense. But now it does and i want to help anyone who is where i was with this

There are 3 reasons not to give your dog bones

First mother canines (and any other relatives present) typically do actually demonstrate for puppies the proper way to eat bones, which can vary from prey type to prey type. For example, bird bones can be tricky and dangerous, even the raw ones splinter more easily because of the way they are structured to be semi-hollow. Wild canines get shown how to eat these things. You can't really do that for your dog.

Second bones can have unknown microbes and parasites, and between that and bone ingestion being a skill check, now and then wild canines do actually die of complications from either eating the wrong bone, or eating a bone wrong.

But the MAIN reason is - if the bones are cooked it changes them.

see, most raw bones tend to break the same way safety glass breaks, into crumbly chunks, like so

but COOKING the bones changes their physical composition

so after you cook a bone, if you break it, it's much more likely to give you long sharp shapes like this

So a wolf, or your dog, munching happily on whatever, a deer bone, is getting crumbly chunks of bone kibble. But if you cook that same bone they're going to be swallowing thin sharp splinters of deadly bone instead.

Yes, a lot of dogs can slowly digest bone material, but if a single sharp shard pierces your dog's stomach, or gods forbid their intestine! before the bone starts to melt enough... then their digestive enzymes and waste material (basically acid sewage) can get into the rest of their body. This can cause lots of bad problems right up to causing terminal sepsis -- which is where your body tries so hard to kill a bad infection that it kills your own organs. Like if those bees in Japan were trying to kill a hornet so hard they made it too hot for the bees to live either.

Even the surgery to fix it is sometimes the cause of death for a dog; it's invasive surgery, no matter how careful they are it's still another opportunity for infection to get a direct line into the core of your dog. They use anesthesia to keep the dog asleep during surgery and the chances of the dog straight up dying from the anesthesia itself are low... but they aren't zero. And it's not like an anatomy book in there, it's a messy difficult thing to do, cutting and stitching around in there.

Your dog can eat a cooked bone and be fine 19 times and die on the 20th. Or 8th. Or 37th. Or your dog could die on the first one.

It's a total roll of the dice on their life.

Now, if you really really want to give your dog bones for reasons that aren't because you made a dinner that has bones (I did-- when Badger was a puppy I tried to give him all the parts of animals I could to make sure he was getting access to the same nutrients a wild canine would get and have all the taste and chew experiences a wild canine would have, as much as possible) that's fine.

Just do good research and either work with a butcher to get fresh good quality bones or buy bones that are meant for dogs by companies who have to worry about being sued if they sell dangerous bones. I used to get Badger these, uh, i think they were sheep kneecaps, and also some kind of rib bones, idk it was 10 years ago, but i got them from pet supply companies for dogs. Oxtails and deer trachea too. If you want to give your dog bones and animal parts, there are hundreds of ways to do that safely.

Don't give them random raw bones from preparing your dinner unless you've researched it heavily and are being specific and careful - remember, you can't demonstrate the best way to eat those bones they way momma wolf could. If giving the dog the bones from making your dinner is important to you for some reason (i could understand a life bonding thing or something, honoring the ancient pact between our kinds or whatever) then just make sure you're choosing the right dinners for that to be okay for your dog. I would say even do home experiments and crush the kind of raw bones you want to feed to your dog with shears and hammers and things to see what you're letting your dog swallow.

And don't forget you're cooking away any microbes that might be on it when you eat it, but all your dog gets is its own immune system. It is in some ways better at raw food than yours, but it's still just one lone immune system in a world full of mites and bacteria and viruses and little eggs that hatch inside your body. Cooking kills all those things, but makes the bones dangerous for dogs. So, make sure you're getting high quality bones, like from a place you'd feel safe eating the meat from raw, we're talking sushi quality meat. Don't just give your dog random raw bones from your dinner, unless you have done the work to make sure you're doing it safely

BUT ESPECIALLY DO NOT GIVE YOUR DOG COOKED BONES

this has been a PSA, thank you

[yanderemommabean]

Mama I would suplex a boulder for a follow up to the yandere virus post pls pls pls 🥺

You can’t even think. First you’re in the hallways trying to get to your own bed, now you’re being forced into kissing and swapping tongues with two very eager women whose hands are becoming more and more invasive and demanding. Phoebe was more aggressive about how she kissed you. Her tongue lapped and flicked the roof of your mouth and coaxed out near pathetic mewls and whimpers, while Sadie made it her job to steal you away when Phoebe needed to breathe. Sadies kisses were just as eager but not as intense, like she was savoring every bit she could. Both truly intoxicating in their own right. 

You can’t even bring it in yourself to fight. Something about all of this was intoxicating (as well as terrifying. You were sure even if you did fight harder, that shock collar would make this a lot worse. Perhaps it’s best to try and enjoy what you can?) Their touches were demanding, grabbing at you and roughly yanking your shirt off. 

“N-No” you stammer, trying to reach up and cover yourself but Sadie easily pins your wrist back down, shushing you softly as Phoebe begins to feel up your breasts. 

“Shh shh shh. You’re so pretty baby. So needy and desperate. Look how hard your nipples are already! Clearly you need us to help with this. You’re so pent up, kisses is all it took to make you like this” 

Your cheeks burn, your face feels like it was molten hot, and you hated that they were right. You couldn't exactly get off lately with the stress of school and the fact that, you know, they’re your bullies. You gasp wetly as Phoebe takes a nipple into her mouth, sucking and flicking her tongue over your sensitive bud, moaning in satisfaction as you feel your body tense and your hips raise off the bed. 

Sadie just giggles, sliding her hand down into the front of your panties. You were humiliated at how wet you had become, the slick stain on the fabric being all the proof they really needed that you liked this, even if you were fighting it. You can only cry out and gasp into their shared possessive kisses, Sadies fingers rubbing teasing and slow circles on your clit before dipping lower to feel your drenched folds, her middle finger circling your hole as it flutters. Phoebe placed her fingers into your mouth to hush you, her mouth working on your other nipple as she indulged herself in every noise you made for them. It’s a shame you have to be quiet this time, but once they’re able to, you’ll be moaning until your throat is raw. 

Phoebe crawls up to push you back into Sadies lap, grinning like a wicked demon as she looks you up and down. “I know we told Naomi we’d wait but…a little taste won't hurt right? I mean she’s so cute! Desperate and mewling like a little kitten, perhaps that's a better pet name instead?” 

You arch once again as Sadie begins to suckle and bite on your neck, her fingers pressing in faster circles as she teases your dripping pussy. You couldn’t form a singular thought, not even one of protest- as if your body wasn’t betraying you anyway. A choked moan leaves your throat as Phoebe slides down, holding your legs apart. She admired every mark and blemish on your skin, her fingers possessively gripping the flesh as he kissed up and down, from the apex of your hips to your calves, making herself comfy between your thighs as Sadie made sure your arms were held down tightly. “I think regardless she makes such a cute little pet. Look at how she writhes and cries out, she’s so sensitive! Naomi really needs to hurry up, she doesn’t know what she’s missing”. 

You try in vain to slam your legs closed as a last ditch effort to defend yourself, but with how easy they managed to do everything thus far? It was pretty much laughable. Phoebe just toys with your lips, dragging her finger up and down as she watches your hips twitch and your stomach tighten, her mouth watering. “Oh she’s missing such a pretty sight. Y/N’s so wet, I bet she could cum just from her nipples being toyed and played with! Oooh, does our puppy want to test that out? Or do you want something better?” 

You swallow, wincing as Sadie massages your breasts and bites into you again and again like she’s trying to brand you. Not to be a smart ass or anything but the collar more or less does that already. “J-Just, please, I-I” “Aww, don't be scared! You’re doing so well! C’mon” Sadie coaxes, her hands traveling down to also play with your pussy, watching as your hips act on their own to roll up against her hand as Phoebe watches with hunger and amusement. “You’re being so good, Y/N. You can keep being good can’t you? Just let us take care of you, melt all that stress away” 

“P-please!” you cry out, only to feel Phoebe grip your face and steal another kiss, her voice going low as she whispers in your ear “You’re cumming for us, one way or the other. If we have to tie you down with those wands and vibrators and drain you dry, we will. I suggest you behave unless you want to watch me lose my patience”. 

You make a noise of resentment and fear in the back of your throat, knowing that they were more than capable of having you tied down and at their mercy. You wince as both women begin to kiss up and down your body again, biting and marking wherever they wished, making you jerk and hiss when their teeth break the skin. 

Before Phoebe could pull away to threaten to act on that scenario she mentioned, having been impatient for your response, the door is knocked on and Naomi enters, a sultry smile on her face at the sight of you, barely clothed and clearly being enjoyed by the other two. 

“Well…I hope I didn't miss too much,” She says, locking the door and beginning to remove her outfit. She comes to grab your face, stealing a heated kiss that once again takes your breath away, only pulling away when she absolutely had too. Naomi admires you for a moment before giving Phoebe and Sadie a certain look, before saying “Well? What are we waiting for? It’s a three day weekend, so let’s get started” (-Mommabean, I hope you liked it! Sorry if it wasn't super spectacular I got some home stuff bothering me and I had to kinda rush! Still, this was fun!)

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙲𝙸𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙻𝙴𝙽 𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷𝚂

description: in which Leah and Lessi take the Arsenal lot out to their favourite bar, and katie's crush suddenly becomes not so secret

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katie mccabe x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive and sexual, a few make-outs

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Katie had always liked to go out on a morning walk. Ever since she broke up with her girlfriend of seven years just over a year ago, Katie had made a good habit of getting up before 8am to go for a walk.

It used to help her think things through and try and get herself together before training. Now it just relaxes her, and let her see her.

The girl in question was someone who Katie had been watching for nearly four months now. Every weekday. Creepy, she was aware. But the gorgeous girl was just so intimidating.

She walked through London Colney with a coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other and constantly listening to music on her rose gold beats.

Her outfits were fantastic and every time Katie watched her pass by, she would always send a kind smile from her perfectly painted lips.

Her skin was flawless, her hair like something form a L'Oreal commercial and her eyes were the most invasive and hauntingly beautiful things Katie had ever seen.

In conclusion, Katie was down bad. She loved the way her head bobbed to her music or the way the stranger would move her cigarette away from Katie, so she couldn't smell it as much.

And as Katie woke up today, Thursday, tomorrow would be the day before the Chelsea vs Arsenal match, she made herself a promise that she was going to speak to this girl today.

Katie made her way out of her apartment, happily humming along to the music as she walked her head down as she tried to think about where she could speak to the girl.

Just as Katie looked up there was a force into her chest and a squeak. There is a crash on the floor as iced coffee splashes onto the pavement.

Katie looks down and gulps as she realises the girl who has been occupying her thoughts all morning stood pressed against her chest, her coffee now scattered over the street.

"I'm so sorry lass, I wasn't lookin'." Katie apologises. The girl sends her a bright smile, shaking her head as she bends down and picks up the coffee cup and bins it.

"Please, it was my fault, in my own head this morning it seems." The girl denies, pulling her beats down to rest around her head, the faint sound of Hozier coming from them.

"What'cha in your own head about?" Katie questions kindly, the girl smiles.

"How to get you to come and speak to me." She giggles, her London accent pushing through her words.

Katie can't help the chuckle which escapes her lips, her secret admiring from afar clearly having been noticed by the beauty stood in front of her.

"Ahh, ya got me." Katie smiles. "Katie." She introduces, holding her hand out.

"I'm aware." The girl smiles, but shakes her hand anyway. "y/n." She adds.

"Beautiful name for a stunnin' girl." Katie beams and y/n smiles again, laughing lightly. She leans over and stubs out the cigarette, smiling softly.

"Apologies for the smoke, I'm sure you footballers try and steer clear." y/n hums.

"They kill ya, y'know?" Katie asks and y/n raises a brow.

"Really?" She gasps mockingly. "Thanks for the warning, I'll stop right away." She nods and Katie chuckles at the sarcasm.

"Ok ok, I was just sayin'." Katie surrenders and y/n laughs again, suddenly her phone vibrates, the Harry Potter theme tune echoing as she smiles apologetically at Katie and answers it.

"Alrigh' alrigh', I'm coming you prick!" She says lightly into the phone. She laughs at whatever is said. "I'll see you in a second babe." She hums.

Katie's heart sinks at the use of the pet-name, her once racing heart now slowing as the beautiful girl laughs again and hangs up the phone, Katie clear her throat.

"Boyfriend?" She asks, trying to not so subtly see if the girl was taken.

"Best friend." y/n hums at her and Katie's heart lifts slightly. "There's no one if that is what you're trying to figure out." y/n adds. "Besides, it wouldn't be a boyfriend." She adds.

At that confirmation Katie's heart leaps, she felt as if she had just scored against Chelsea already and it took everything in her not to whisper a small 'yes'.

"I have to go Katie love." y/n hums, the nickname making Katie almost shiver.

"Can I get your number?" Katie asks.

"Meet me here tomorrow, 8:15, iced caramel latte." y/n winks, before she sidesteps the woman and walks off, Katie turns but y/n just looks back and sends a wink before disappearing into a crowd of people.

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The next morning, Katie was stood at 8:10 with an iced caramel latte which she thought was far too cold for the already crisp morning, her head was up and waiting for the shorter girl who had occupied her thoughts for months.

"I'm impressed." y/n hummed, as she slid next to Katie, the woman's head snapping to her and a smile over-taking her features.

"M'lady." Katie grinned, handing her the drink.

y/n laughed, the sound as sweet as angels singing to Katie and the Irishwoman made a promise to herself to keep y/n laughing as long as she could, because the sound warmed her blood.

"Thank you." y/n smiled, her beats were resting around her neck once more and she began to walk and Katie followed quickly after, almost jolting into action.

"So, where are we going?" Katie asks.

"You are walking me to work, then I am assuming you have training before the big game tomorrow." y/n hums and Katie looks down at her.

"Okay." Katie nods. "You clearly know football." Katie adds and y/n chuckles as she moves through the crowd of people who were leaving from a tube station.

"You could say that, yeah." y/n nods as she checks the road, her spare hand, free of a cigarette today Katie noted, reaching down for Katie's.

y/n gripped it lightly and pulled her across the quiet road before dropping her hand once they got back onto the pavement. Katie found herself clenching and unclenching a fist to try and rid herself of the sparks which were left in y/n's wake.

The two made small talk for the next ten minutes, learning about each other's favourite colours and music tastes, laughs were shared more often that not.

However, the laughs shared were only due to the fact Katie was trying her best to be as funny as possible, desperate to hear the laugh from the stunning girl stood beside her.

"So, what do you do?" Katie asks, looking down at the girl sipping her coffee.

"I'm a barista and bartender." y/n explains as they near a coffee shop which Katie walked past everyday.

It was on the corner of her street, a relatively big venue which she remembered turned into a bar once evening settled over London. She'd never been in, having liked to stick to her favourite places.

If y/n worked here, she was kicking herself for being so bad at trying something new.

There were cute pastel wooden tables and chairs out the front, only a few since not many people sat outside during the winter. Inside were booths and comfy chairs.

Cushions, blankets and a long bar decorated the coffee shop, a window of pastries and cakes sat out as well. A girl was bustling around, mouthing along to the music as she waved at y/n through the window.

y/n waved back and turned to Katie, who she noticed was looking at the six cats lying lazily inside the coffee shop and she chuckled as Katie then looked at her.

"We are not supposed to be a cat cafe, but they were all rescues and people love them so they stay." y/n explains.

She then smiles as Katie looks at her watch, sighing at the fact that she would have to get back to her place, which luckily wasn't far and head over for their long day of training.

"Thanks for walking me." y/n adds, she leans up and pecks Katie's cheek, leaving the woman slightly stunned for a moment. "See you soon!" y/n calls.

"Wait, what does that mean?" Katie asks, but y/n just ignores her as her friend lets her in and they begin to set up the open for nine am. Katie sighs, but know she is going to be late if she doesn't go.

So, with one last fleeting look at the gorgeous girl who was laughing at something, Katie touched her cheek and set off home.

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The next day, Katie's head was far to focused to let many thoughts of y/n slip through, a few had, she wasn't afraid to admit, in fact the idea of the smiling girl was keeping her rather calm.

As they stepped out onto the pitch, Katie could hardly hear her heartbeat over the screams of the Arsenal fans, but she rolled her shoulders back and waited.

As soon as the whistle went for kick off Katie's blood pumped and the fire in her heart roared as she ran, she hardly payed attention to the people shouting her name.

The clock ban to tick, minutes running from them as Katie crossed the ball into the box, Beth Mead finding it and burying it in the back of the net.

Shouts of excitement echoed, Katie launching at Beth and shouting in happiness as they were surrounded. The group runs back to reset and Katie looks over to the crowd.

People jumped and cheered for her, for Beth, for them, a suddenly determination pushed through her to play the game at the same level or better.

As the half time whistle blew, the group couldn't believe they were three - one up against Chelsea. Katie was walking toward the tunnel when she saw her.

Leah was next to her the two talking animatedly about something, she was in a black puffer coat zipped and had an Arsenal beanie on her head.

Leah saw Katie watching and waved at her sending her a proud nod, then y/n turned, a wink sent Katie's way before she turned back to Leah and the continued talking.

As Katie got into the changing room, her heart continued to race, the cheeky eyes of y/n pushing through her body, the name ringing in her head.

Of course. Leah and Alessia often talked about their joint friend, the one who Leah had said she owed her happiness too, the girl having met her when Leah was crying drunk in the bar about her ACL.

Leah who was alone, was helped by y/n who let the blonde stay the night, cooked her breakfast in the morning and then answered Alessia's worried phone call.

Once Alessia finally came to Arsenal Leah had happily introduced to the girl she had described her angel, and while the team had never met her, she was often talked about.

Of course the girl Katie was crushing on was her, of course it bloody was. And as Katie stepped outside for the second half, suddenly her determination grew.

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y/n felt awful, she truly did, but just after Alessia had scored her penalty her best friend had called and asked her into work explaining they had a newbie call in sick.

Leah promised her it was okay and that she would see the golden retriever of a human later. y/n had left Leah with a kind hug and ran off, and as she left the stands, she saw Katie's shoulders deflate.

However, y/n couldn't think about that, she changed into a red jumpsuit and quickly switched into work mode, her make-up done in twenty minutes and her hair scraped back into a long ponytail.

Several hours passed, y/n doing her job when her best friend and boss, Jamie came over, the woman placing her hand on y/n's shoulders.

"Haley's here now y/n/n, you can go and get ready for your fist set of the night." Jamie said as y/n served another drink, Haley nodding at y/n kindly as she slid onto the bar.

"Sure Mimi, Leah here yet?" y/n asked and Jamie nodded, pointing over to the VIP section where the group stood.

"You okay with serving them when you're not playing?" Jamie asked and y/n nodded as she moved around Adam, another server of the night.

"Yeah course." y/n grinned, the VIP section had it's own bar so the VIP's didn't need to wait in line.

y/n checked her face in the mirror, noticing Katie stood slightly out of eyeline in her jeans and tight black tank top, her arms almost making y/n choke.

y/n then slid over to the section, her arms wrapping around the familiar blonde who had played so well in the match. Recognising the feeling Alessia beamed.

"Angel!" Leah cheered noticing her as Alessia turned and bear-hugged the girl.

"Hi my loves." y/n hummed. "You were so good today, I am so sorry I had to leave early." y/n praised to Alessia who smiled brightly.

"It's okay, Lee explained." She promised her friend who smiled before sliding under the bar.

"Right ladies, this is the angel y/n we go on about." Leah said, as she quickly went around the group that had come out.

"Kim, Kyra, Cloe, Caitlin, Katie." Alessia began.

"Lotta hard k's." y/n joked and Leah chuckled.

"Lotte, Manu, Jen, Steph, Laura, Laia, Amanda, Frida, Lia, Victoria, Lina, Stina." Leah continued.

"And you obviously know Beth and Viv." Alessia finished, the couple the only two to have met y/n in the recent months.

"Yes, hi all, I'm y/n, I am your bartender tonight so yay me, and I know all of your names anyway." y/n added. "Also, great game today." She adds.

A chorus of thank yous echo before y/n sighs and looks out at the sea of 21 players and rubbed her hands together before opening the till and getting ready to start the tab.

"What we drinking?" She asks. After about twenty minutes, each player had a drink, other than Katie who waited patiently.

Leah had noticed the way Katie had lingered around the bar, the way her eyes followed y/n's every move as she made the drinks, somewhere in the back of her mind she realised what a good couple the two could make.

"Let me guess? A Guinness?" y/n asked, rolling her eyes as Katie grinned. "Of course you have the longest pouring drink last." She adds.

Usually, if people ordered a Guinness last on their orders y/n would rage, because it meant she would have to wait for it to settle before moving on, but as she looked at Katie, she didn't care.

"Why didn't ya mention you knew Lee and Less, oh and Beth and Viv?" Katie asks and y/n shrugs.

"You never asked." She tells Katie as she stops the Guinness letting the liquor settle.

"Fair enough." Katie chuckled, y/n smiled softly her head turning briefly to check the clock.

"You played well today." y/n said quietly. "I didn't realise you could be so violent." She adds and Katie smirks.

"I'm as scary as they come me." Katie grins and y/n laughs which widens Katie's grin.

"Well, you're alright. I'll give you that." y/n chuckles, Katie leans forward on the bar, her arms tensing.

y/n's gaze moves down to the tanned skin which sat there and she gulped before looking away and finishing the Guinness. Katie notices her gaze and smirks.

"Just alrigh'?" She asks teasingly but y/n just places the Guinness on the bar.

"Order up." She smiles before moving to where Jamie stood, Katie smirked at the girl's flustered cheeks and turned to lean on the bar, her eyes catching Leah's who sent her a knowing wink and a smile.

She'd been given permission, that was what Leah had given her there, she had said with her eyes 'I see it, I'm okay with it.' and Katie relaxed with that.

"Yes!" Alessia suddenly said, and the group turned to see y/n suddenly on the stage with the DJ and a live band.

"Right, yes yes, hello." y/n said into the mic, the crowd suddenly screaming and Katie furrowed her brows. "Okay, it's a Saturday night, most here are gooners, I know." y/n continued.

The crowd got louder at that and y/n laughed, the cheers were directed toward the VIP section, but Katie was impressed at the way no one had tried to sneak to them.

She loved the fans, she did, but they could be crazy, so the fact none of them had tried to approach just showed how good this bar really was she supposed.

"Not all of us." The guitarist suddenly chimed in, his long hair pushing out of his face as he nodded his head at y/n who laughed.

"Come on you irons!" She cheered, several loud cheers ringing out.

"She's a Hammers fan?" Jen asked Leah in shock and Leah laughed, nodding her head.

"Hammer-head yeah." Leah grinned and the Arsenal group shared a laugh.

"Anyway, let's fucking party." y/n said before the song kicked in. Katie almost jumped at the trumpets playing from the recording and as the drum began people danced.

"Well there is something going down! Like the storm in the sky. Oh." y/n sang, her voice powerful.

Katie's eyes widened at her live voice, so good, so powerful, so free and as her teammates began to dance to the song Katie couldn't help but watch y/n as she performed into the chorus.

"Mama knows best when, times get a hard! And papa always has a joke, to make me laugh. See mama knows best when, I feel down, to pick me up and always keep my feet on solid ground." y/n continued.

Katie didn't think she could have fallen any harder, but the second y/n started singing, she realised how wrong she was.

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After an hour of Katie's teammates dancing around her while she stared in shock at y/n who was performing as if she was at Wembley. The singer thanked the crowd and said she would be back in an hour.

She then disappeared into the sea of people and despite trying, Katie could no longer see her. She sighed and shook her head when Leah slid next to her.

"So, you seem to know y/n somewhat?" Leah asks Katie, a relaxed tone in her voice.

"It's all a bit confusin' really." Katie admitted. "We pass each other on our morning walks and then the other day we just crashed into each other, talked and then I walked her to work yesterday." Katie explains.

"Right, and how long have you been seeing her on your walks?" Leah asks, raising a brow.

"4 months, and I know it sounds bad, and I had no idea who she was before it clicked at the game, but I've continued those walks, just to see her." Katie winces.

"She's like that. Totally addictive." Leah nods and Katie pauses.

"Have you and her - uh..." Katie begins, Leah bursts into laughter, shaking her head.

"No, god no!" Leah denies. "She's just my friend, my best friend really, but she just has this way about her, I can't explain it." Leah hums.

"She fuckin' stunnin' as well." Katie sighs and Leah chuckles.

"I think you'd be good together." Leah adds to Katie who smiles at her in thanks. "She's never really been one for relationships, her last one ended well, but I think she just got scared of it again." Leah adds.

"I didn't think she'd be scared of a thing." Katie hummed and Leah chuckles.

"Wait til you see her around a spider." She warns and Katie laughs as she looks around for her.

"Looking for someone?" A call asks, the two turning around to see y/n pouring Caitlin another drink, the footballer cheering when it's passed to her.

"Angel, as fantastic as always." Leah grins and y/n laughs sending a wink her way.

"Had to impress tonight, we had some VIP's in the house." y/n grins and Leah chuckles.

"Katie's got something to ask you." Leah nods, before walking away leaving Katie silently panicking as she tries to play it off cool.

"Do you?" y/n asks Katie.

"Date me!" Katie says suddenly, before wincing and sighing as she tries not to hit herself in the face. "I mean, go on a date with me?" Katie asks. "Please?" She adds.

"I'd love to." y/n smiles and Katie grins.

"Really?" She asks.

"Of course Katie." y/n smiles. "Now, give me your phone while I pour you another drink." She orders and Katie does so, watching as y/n taps her number in, stopping the Guinness pouring without looking up so she can let it settle.

"I didn't know you could sing either." Katie adds before y/n sends her a look. "Right, didn't ask." Katie nods again.

"Come on." y/n hums as Jamie takes her place, handing her a coat.

"Where are we goin'?" Katie asks, but she takes y/n's outstretched hand never-the-less and lets her pull her out the back and to a small covered area with two heat lamps and a table.

"Smoking shed." y/n says obviously as she lights a cigarette up and turns the heat lamps on.

"You sing and you smoke." Katie says. "Isn't that like oxymoronic?" She asks and y/n shrugs.

Katie moves forward to take the cigarette from the girl but hisses when a harsh slap is placed on the back of her hand.

"Bleedin' woman!" Katie curses and y/n grins happily as she inhales once more on the cigarette. "What'cha do that for?" Katie adds.

"You tried to take my cigarette." y/n says simply, and Katie huffs before darting forward again, trying to reach for the stick, y/n shrieks and skirts around the table, trying to run away.

Katie however is already quicker than her and isn't wearing heels like she is and wraps her arms tightly around y/n so she can grip the cigarette carefully and throw it onto the floor.

"Katie!" y/n whines out in annoyance, turning around to face the footballer who kept a tight grip on her waist. "I wanted that." She huffs.

"I want you." Katie says without thinking. y/n looks at her a small smile on her face before she lets out a laugh, Katie smiling sheepishly as y/n grips her shoulders as she giggles.

"Somehow, that was both smooth and terrible." y/n giggles and Katie chuckles with her.

"I'm not usually this shit at flirtin'." She promises and y/n chuckles.

"Well, let's see if your better at kissing." She mutters before her lips are on Katie's.

The Irishwoman was definitely better at kissing than she was flirting, her lips softly pressing against y/n's before she pushed her hips forward, causing y/n to stumble back into the table.

At the move, y/n gasped, her mouth opening just enough for Katie to dive her tongue in and her hands came up to keep y/n's head in place. Suddenly she was everywhere in her mouth.

It was as if she was mapping y/n's mouth with her own, every inch she could reach being touched by her tongue which finally came to clash into y/n's with the passion of four months of obsession.

Katie didn't slow down as she slid her hands down, lifting y/n onto the table so she could work at a better angle. Her hands pawing at her waist, thighs and hips.

The two parted briefly before diving back in, y/n's hands holding tightly onto Katie's shoulders, her grip tightening further when Katie's lips wondered down her neck, burning the skin she touched.

Katie bit down against y/n's shoulder as she kissed back up, y/n letting out a soft whimper at the action which was better than Katie could have dreamed of.

"If I don't stop now, I'll fuck you into this table." Katie whispered breathlessly against y/n's ear and she sighed, the two pulling away breathless and aroused.

"Definitely better at kissing." y/n breathed, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Katie laughed at that, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips before sighing.

"Come on, lets get inside." She hums and y/n nods. "So, I'll pick you up tomorrow at six?" She asks as they move to the door.

"Only if you stay the night." y/n counters back and Katie smirks.

"I intend on it." She promises lowly and y/n grins as they re-join the bar.

y/n's eyes find Leah's and the blonde smirks at her before smiling and y/n smiles back as she slides back under the bar and finishes off Katie's Guinness which had been more than settled, the woman waiting for it with a smirk.

"Order up!"

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END

this is my christmas gift to you all! you get three fics from me today - so look out for the third later on xoxoxox

-

Queenie x

[creedslove]

BETRAYED - PART FOUR

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, Pedro being a dick but also a tiny little bit of fluff

A/N: I'm so sorry but I can't manually tag anyone on the post, the app won't just let me do it!

ALSO, I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHERE TO GO FROM HERE, SO IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS OR SUGGESTIONS LET ME KNOW! 💖

1.3k words

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

"What the fuck are you doing here, Pedro?!" You asked shocked, noticing your voice came out squeaky at the nervousness of the situation. In all the time you've known each other not once he came to your place unannounced and let alone broke into. You honestly had no idea what was that shit about but you didn't like it a bit. It felt so invasive, so creepy, that's definitely something you never expected from Pedro.

The man, on the other hand just scoffed and shook his head, looking at you with angry eyes

"I was just waiting for you, as you don't bother answering my calls nor my texts, I figured I could come and see if you were still alive, which I can see you are, alive and well, by the way, especially after the little date with your new friend. His name is Liev, right? Did you bat your eyes at him and giggled at every single thing he said just like you used to with me?" He got up and walked towards you, staring hardly into your eyes.

"So, you couldn't simply give me a heads-up you weren't coming to my house the other day? You're just too busy to even remember I exist, Y/N? But not to Liev, right? For him you have all the time in the world, what a fucking great friend you are, Y/N!" He said angrily.

You couldn't believe your ears, he had the nerve to come to your place and accuse you of being a bad friend? You clenched your jaw and you could swear if you had the guts you could punch Pedro right there.

You also took a step closer, showing you were not at all intimidated by his scene.

"A bad friend? Are you really calling me a bad friend? You gotta be kidding me, honestly, I can't believe your nerve to say that, if anything you're the bad friend here, you treat me as nothing but a cute pet, someone you like to have around and stroke your ego, but whenever you find something better, you forget I exist"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes

"Is this about the party again? Honestly Y/N what were you expecting? That I would stop my life for you? Just because you have a crush on me?! Please, grow up! You're not a little girl anymore, maybe it's time for you to find a man so you won't bother me anymore?" Pedro raised his voice but immediately regretted what he'd said. He saw how your eyes filled with tears, the disappointment was written all over your face. You swallowed and shook your head "I'm not talking about my feelings for you, I am talking about how bad of a friend you are, how cruel of you was to hump another woman in front of me, ditch me so you could go and fuck her, you left me there, as if I didn't matter, as if you barely knew me!!" You shouted angrily and looked down, drying your tears so he wouldn't see them.

"You're telling me to grow up? How about you fucking grow up? It's about time a man your age, get over this stupid commitment issue you got. For god's sake Pedro, you are nearly 50 years old, no wife, no kids, all your relationships won't last more than a year and you really think the problem is me? You are the fucking problem!" You shouted, not caring if his brown eyed that were often so full of joy were now sparkly with tears.

"I-.. Do you really think that of me, Y/N?" He asked in a low voice,

"I do" you said coldly. Pedro, on the other hand, felt so horrible about everything that happened and above all, about himself. He never believed he would be able to handle a relationship but the assumption you didn't have faith in him shattered his heart, you always saw the good in him, you believed him and supported him when things were so hard he felt like giving things up and now, he had ruined everything, just like he did with everything in his life that wasn't his career. He had given up a chance to be happy, to have his own family, and now he had lost you, he was sure.

You walked to the front door and held it open for him "I'd like you to leave now, you were not invited and I don't want your company, Pedro" . You watched him walk away in silence, turning around and giving you one last glance, blinking his tears and exiting your life.

•••

For the next months the only news you got from Pedro were through reels and headlines that insisted on appearing every time you logged in social media. You'd read somewhere he was shooting another movie in some country you didn't pay attention to, so that assured you you wouldn't risk running into him anywhere you used to go together. You hadn't talked since the day at your house, and you weren't sure if you wanted to talk to him at all, of course it was hard and so many times you had to remind yourself there was no one to send funny pictures you knew he would like, or talk about your interests or even hang out. You felt empty, emptier than you ever did after any romantic relationship you'd ever had. Your friendship with Pedro was intense and even if he didn't like you back, it was a love story, at least on your side of the picture.

Sometimes you wanted to check on him, see if he was doing alright, but you didn't have the guts, you both had hurt each other so bad, and after all, he did tell you to find a man so you'd leave him alone. You always thought of that when you typed a 'Hello' on your conversation, before erasing things up.

He was still the internet's sweetheart and each time a new picture or interview came out, he always seemed happy and excited so you wondered if he missed you at all.

You dropped your phone as you walked into the toy store, you'd been invited for your friend's toddler's birthday party. You'd met Kate through Pedro, he was friends with her husband, but the two of you hit off and you spent a lot of time together and now her sweet little princess Flora was turning three and you were looking forward to spending a cozy afternoon surrounded by happy children and your friend.

You picked the prettiest doll you could find at the store and rushed to Kate's house as you were almost running late.

When you knocked on the door Flora ran as fast as her little legs allowed her to almost bumping into her mommy who opened the door, welcoming you with a nervous smile. You could tell she wanted to say something, but Flora hugged your legs and as soon as you lowered yourself she wrapped her arms around your neck and snuggled you tight.

"Y/N!!!!!!" She squealed happily and her eyes immediately fell onto the beautiful and colorful gift you had in hands, she paid attention to nothing else but the big package and she felt pure happiness and excitement as she opened it and saw the gorgeous doll. Flora clung to you again and giggled

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you Y/N!!" She said overly excited and ran off to play with her new favorite toy.

Kate was distracted for a moment at how glad her daughter was and how cute the two of them were, however, her expression darkened and before you could even greet the other guests, she pulled you to the kitchen, where you two were alone.

"Y/N, before you get into the party, I must warn you… Pedro is here"

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A/N: Hi guys, I really hope you have enjoyed this chapter, it was a sad one, I gotta admit and I guess you all got the revenge you wanted on Pedro, he got a taste of his own medicine and it was not good at all! I gotta confess I'm beginning to pity him 🤦‍♀️ and as I said before, I still don't have a lot of ideas for chapter five, so if you guys have anything in mind and want to suggest, let me know! 💖