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honeytama · 4 years

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7 Minutes in Heaven

League of Villains Headcanons + Scenarios

Warnings: Smut (18+), enclosed spaces, gender neutral reader

It’s only a game. A game usually played by teenagers. However, the majority of the guys surrounding you had never had the chance to experience fun like this at that age. To your surprise, yourself and the-man-you’ve-been-pining-over’s names get randomly chosen out of Sako’s hat. A timer is set for seven minutes as you’re lead into a small, dark closet. You’re both alone without any distractions.

Tag List: @knifeewifee @glowgutter @wakaoujisenhime @ivymemnoch @beauty-in-ferality @thedreadthreadanomaly @moodyvoid @lilli-chae @bakatenshii @shiggyisking @gallickingun @tomomoni @bnhabookclub

A/N: Feel free to use the images below for your own writing and projects! No credit needed! Also, I suggest reading all of these... Enjoy!

Tomura Shigaraki

Says he’d leave if the first time his name gets pulled is with one of the other guys, but honestly wouldn’t mind having a heart-to-heart moment with any of them.

If you’re names get called together, he’ll get up from the floor and hide his eager expression with the ends of his hair.

Grudgingly walks to the closet with you after your names get called, even though his mind races at the filthy to-do list he’s making in his head.

7 minutes isn’t a long time, he knows this. Tomura maps out his actions by the second, but you’re underwhelmed when he just stands there in the corner thinking to himself.

You have to be the one to make the first move, but it’s not completely because you’re the one in charge. Tomura already knows what he wants from you even before you lay your hands on his shoulders or tug at his shirt.

“Cute little thing, so impatient.” Expecting him to not reciprocate any feelings, you’re taken aback once you feel his growing hardon against your thigh. His hips ever so slightly sway against yours, shamelessly rubbing himself against you.

Tomura will convince you to believe all of his lewd thoughts are your own.

“I know exactly what you want. Don’t act so innocent,” he moves his hands to the small of your back, pulling you into his chest. “You want to have a quickie, huh?”

“There’s people listening, so I wouldn’t normally do this... But you want it, so I guess we’ll just have to satiate you.”

Your heart pumps fast and he can feel it against his pectorals. The thought of his accusations actually being true for you only compels him to push into you more.

Things heat up quickly, messy kisses are exchanged on various parts of the body. But, Tomura focuses on the new feeling of your soft lips on his own the most.

You’ll get flipped around to face the wall while his hands shakily attempt to undo the front of his pants. He’ll let you take his cock to guide him in yourself.

The last amount of time you have is spent by him rapidly humping your tight hole while you whimper.

He’ll never admit to this happening once you’re outside the closet. Nevertheless, watch him creep through your bedroom door in the middle night to ask if you liked it... and if you both could do it some more.

The wet clicking noise of his dick entering and leaving your body sounds loud in the small space. The grunts that escape his throat bounce off of the walls, and they’re definitely being heard through the thin crack in the bottom of the closet door.

You cover your mouth and bite your finger hard thinking about what the others will say once you’re done fucking the boss.

Dabi

He suggested the game but didn’t expect everyone else to make him play.

Honesty thought he could just lounge on the couch to watch the rest of you like entertainment that night.

Once your name and his are pulled out of the hat, he hums in surprise and stands up towering over your figure nestled in the corner of the couch. “I guess one round couldn’t hurt.”

You both reach the closet door he says lowly, “I’ll be going back to my room after this.” You think he’s tossing another snarky remark back at your group.

Once inside, you’re both facing each other, Dabi’s eyes are burning holes into your face as he stares at you with his arms crossed against his chest.

He would be the one to make the first move.

A light, grazing touch on your collarbone to your neck. His nails drag along the lines made by your bone and muscle.

You jump at his sudden and surprising advancement but lean into the warmness of his palm once’s it reaches your cheek.

While utterly alone with you for the first time, with the opportunity to do whatever he wants, the furthest he’d go would be making out and heavy petting, grinding you against the back wall of the small room. At least in this closet 10 feet away from the others.

No doubt you’d both scurry away from the game once your seven minutes have passed.

“I really wish this didn’t have to happen right now.” His mouth slips into a smile once you frown at his admission. “No, doll, I mean why do we have to do this in a closet. Feel free to come by my room any time.”

He continues to watch you bite your lip in attempt to smother the volume of your moans. The pressure of his body against yours makes sweat bead on your temple.

“I’m glad something good came out of this silly game.”

Twice | Jin Bubaigawara

Jin runs to the closet door in excitement once your names are read off.

He’ll call out to you getting up from your place on the couch trying to pull yourself together, “I don’t know if you heard, but our names were picked cutie, let’s go! Let’s get this over with.”

The next thing you know, you’re bodies are flush against one another’s in the tight space.

Unapologetically, Jin lifts the lower half of his mask so his mouth & nostrils are exposed. Your face heats up at his bright smile; stubble covers chin handsomely.

“Small fry,” he beams. “Are you gonna kiss me with those pretty lips, or what? Don’t, that’s gross.” He kicks himself thinking you won’t take on a chance on him for being so crude to you daily.

You giggle at his advances and lean in to meet him halfway. His fingers hold your chin as he kisses you in earnest. His other hand is already traveling toward the curve of your ass.

After making out within the first couple minutes, he’d try for something more. Probably would be the only one courageous enough to suggest giving you oral in that amount of time.

And he’s confident he’ll make you cum before the timer can go off.

A part of him wants to roughly cover your mouth while you moan with every breath, but the other half wants everyone to know that’s he’s on his knees for you.

Once your time ends, he’s bargaining the others for more time alone with you. Jin will hold the knob of the door forbidding them from entering... until Dabi or Tomura threaten to destroy it themselves. No fun.

“Hmm, what should we do? Nothing, let me know when the time is passed.” He whines against your lips while his mind fills with a plethora of things he’d want to do with you. Suddenly, he blurts out, “How about I go down you, sound good?”

Jin drops to his knees the moment your lips spill the words, “Yes, please.”

Your legs are slightly spread apart by his large, eager hands. The waistband of your pants are pulled sensually down the length of your thighs by Jin while he watches your face contort in anticipation. You’re not surprised at his experience and grace in these actions.

He hums and his throat rumbles as he laps greedily at your sensitive spots; he hopes you’re enjoying this as much as him.

Mr. Compress | Atsuhiro Sako

He doesn’t know how he could be convinced to play such a “childish” game, but if it means a gamble of being chosen to enter a dark room with you, then...

“Let the games begin.”

However, if Sako isn’t in the mood for a gamble, and his sights set on getting you alone...

This man would absolutely use his quirk to rig the names that would be chosen for the first pairing. He’ll hide marbles filled with slips of paper with the both of your names inscribed.

Volunteers to pick the names at random, but snaps the marbles away to dramatically reveal that you’d be partnered with him.

Once you’re alone, he’d most definitely admit to you about his little scheme just to make you squirm against him.

“I could not possibly let myself watch any of those boys try you until I had my opportunity,” his gloved hand placed above your head against the wall, “Of course, if you’ll have me.” Shamelessly leaning close into your ear.

Sako gets turned on by trust and consent; he’d take off his mask and set it on a shelf. Allowing you to gaze into his hazel eyes.

Would get you to tell him all your dirty secrets as he lets his hands roam your body. He takes off his gloves with his teeth to trace your features with his fingertips.

He takes the lead, and his cocky self teases you for trying to take control. Although, he allows you to pull off his dress shirt and undo his pant’s button until your hands get pinned to the wall by the wrist, halting you from going any further.

He allows himself to give you tender kisses on the lips and swallows your whines that attempt to escape. Your bodies intertwine and he holds your weight against him as your legs threaten to give out from his masterful movements.

He lets the time run out.

Turns out he was only getting started, so once the game ends and you’re alone for the night... He’ll hope you’ll come running to his quarters for a full show.

“You know, it’s fate that both of our names be chosen together, right, Y/N?” Sako leans in close to your ear. Your body is struck into submission by his arms encasing both sides of your head while his hands are pressed against the closet wall. “Almost comedic that my personal, supreme desire is happening by the hands of the universe.” You can feel his breathe against the crest of your ear. Sako backs away once he’s earned the pleasure of hearing your throat catch at his admittance of affection for you.

Your eyes quickly trace the outlines of his eyes and lips that you’re able to see through the holes in his hood. He’s taken off his mask in courtesy to you and this intimate situation. Even so, it’s difficult to see him absolutely in the dark room.

“Why don’t you tell me some stories as we pass the time in here?” He tilts his head while looking deep into your eyes. “Entertain me.”

Spinner | Shuichi Iguchi

Spinner did not want to play because he assumed that everyone “didn’t want to kiss him,” and was only there to be the partner for someone to be disappointed in having. His presence just for laughs.

To his unknowing, you’re sitting across from him with butterflies in your stomach, achingly waiting for your name to pulled with his.

His muscles tense when your names are called out. His lower jaw falls open and stays that way as he watches across the circle for your reaction.

Once in the closet, Spinner leans as far as he possibly can from you, and averts his eyes to the door.

Is definitely counting the seconds that he has to be so close to you.

And is also preparing for rejection if he accidentally grazes your arm.

You have to make the first move, and most likely the second, and third one too.

He’s on the defensive, 100% ready to fight you in the dark once you place a tender hand on his around his bicep. “Aye, back it up. Wha- why are you doing that?”

He’ll hold his breathe as you finally kiss him, but he completely lets go of his stress about touching you once your lips move to his neck. The more amount of attention he receives from you, the more his walls drop.

He’d allow himself to give into you more and more as believes the darkness of the room will hide his scales features. This offers him courage to ravage your body like he’s imagined for so long...

Shuichi’s incredible strength comes in handy in this sort of situation. He’d lift you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist as anchor.

If you’re not comfortable with being carried, he’d throw your leg around his

Or he literally just handles your body with such roughness and disgrace that in within minutes he leaves scratch marks and bruises on your hips.

In darkness, you step into his foot length of personal space before reaching out to the spot his tank hem meets his hip. A gentle tug of it towards you causes him to to jump back and throw his hands up in defense— which only end up brushing against the muscle of your breast.

The touch causes his face to heat up in embarrassment, but the heat between your legs urges you to test his wants. First, a kiss is placed on his cheek, and his responds with a smile. Then, your kisses move across towards his jaw and neck, the skin underneath being suckled and pulled by your lips.

Spinner lets out labored breathes as he hovers his hands above your hips. They only lay upon them once you whisper, “Aren’t you gonna kiss me, Shuichi?” Strong hands press into your sides as he let’s himself give into your touch. His lips catch yours hastily as your pressed back into the opposite wall. His grasp on your waist unwavering; his hands only moving to grope your behind roughly before reaching for the backs of your thighs.

Shuichi grunts into your neck as he pulls one of your legs around his waist to drive his aching groin into your own. “Tell me exactly how you want the rest the time to be spent... I’ll make it worth your while.”

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mxnsterbabe · 4 years

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Y’sran x Reader Pt 2

Pt 1 Male Dragonborn/Female Reader NSFW Wordcount: 9,963 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

Part two of a commission for @ivymemnoch

Y'sran looked so comically small in your home - you had high , slanted ceilings with bare beams that crossed the length of the rooms, but even then the topmost spike of his jagged horns was in danger of getting stuck. You hadn't realised how huge he really was until that moment, but as you watched him lower his head to avoid another wooden beam, it was hard to ignore.

The sheer size of him alone was enough to make your knees weak, and you forced your gaze away. "Would you like a drink?" you asked instead, wandering to the kitchen, "I have whiskey, rum, wine. Or tea, if you'd prefer."

There was a dull thunk from the living room, followed by a dull groan. Y'sran muttered something you couldn't hear, then piped up, "what kind of whiskey?"

"Some vintage from Mistfall," you replied, already digging out two glasses from the topmost cupboard. Your house was modest in size, but you were lucky enough to have three modestly sized rooms and a kitchen big enough for a hearth and plenty or storage. You managed to find the whiskey - a gift from Dot last year - and set everything on a tray. As you carried it all through you couldn't help but wonder how much it took Y'sran to get drunk.

At some point he had settled into the armchair by the unlit fireplace, but he was far too big and his legs stuck out awkwardly, taking up almost all of the space from fireplace to door. Your spacious house didn't look so spacious with him in it. His eyes flickered up as he noticed you sidle in, an apologetic smile gracing his handsome features. "I fear I'm not suited to a house like this."

"Then we can sit outside. The weather's nice, and you'll have plenty of room." The neighbours might think it strange, but the hedges were tall and if they saw, that was their problem to deal with.

Y'sran offered you a thankful smile - and then, in one fluid motion, swept the tray from your hands. You parted your lips to argue - but he was already holding the door open for you.

Your house was at the end of the street, bordered mostly by trees and then an expanse of field behind. Other than one house across and one beside you, there was almost perfect privacy. You led Y'sran around the back, where a tall brick wall and hedges surrounded a neatly kept garden. There was a pond in the middle, and although you had wanted fish you had never gotten around to it. The rest of the garden was bursting with flowers; marigolds and lavender and honeysuckle that climbed the walls. To the left, you even had a little vegetable patch.

You hadn't even noticed Y'sran staring, not until you stepped forward and he didn't come with. Turning, you craned your neck to see a faint smile on his face. "Never seen a garden before?" you offered with a laugh.

"I don't often get the chance, no. I travel far too often to keep one of my own."

Well, he was an adventurer. Travelling was part of the deal, and freelancing jobs took adventurers all over. The thought made you shudder, but perhaps you were just too rooted to your home. After all, you'd lived in Dawncross your entire life. "It must be wonderful though, getting to travel. The things you must have seen."

Y'sran was far too big for the wooden swing chair you kept, so you settled on the grass side by side. The pond needed weeding, but Kami always helped with that and he was getting lazy lately. Besides, Y'sran didn't seem to mind at all - he poured the drinks distractedly, his enormous hands gentle even as he cast his gaze about your little space. "I love adventuring," he replied, handing over your drink, "but sometimes I think it might be nice to settle down. I do live here in town, but half the time my house sits empty."

You glanced down at your whiskey - he'd poured too much, almost four fingers of the stuff, but you took a sip without complaint. It was bitter on the way down, but the aftertaste was pleasant and warm. "What would you do, if you were to give up adventuring?"

The glass was so tiny in his hands, and suddenly you're enormous serving made sense. He'd poured you a Y'sran sized drink. He took a drink, smiled, and set it down on the grass. "I told you I used to be a blacksmith? I don't think I'd ever go back to it. Perhaps I'd make jewellery instead."

Jewellery? The idea surprised you - but then, you decided, it made some sort of sense. He was so delicate despite his size, so careful in everything he did. Honestly, he'd make a perfect jeweller. "I think you'd suit it," you admonished with a grin. You had drank too much at the tavern, and now this whiskey was catching up with you too. Still, you took another long swig and let the warmth spread through you.

"Blacksmithing runs in the family," Y'sran mused as he poured himself another drink. Really? He'd finished it already? "But I love adventuring. I don't think I could ever give it up. But, ah, you don't want to hear about that-"

"I do!" you piped up - too loud, too enthusiastic. A rosy flush spread across your cheeks, and not just from the alcohol. "I-I mean, it's interesting. You're interesting, and I'd like to get to know you."

"I bet you say that to all the men," he quipped, his grin revealing white fangs.

If you hadn't been blushing before, you were positively scarlet now. You thought back to the tavern, barely an hour ago, where Kami and Dot had dared you to kiss someone. It could have gone worse - especially considering the incident with the tiefling - but now here you were, and it was easy to say you were out of your depth. Downing the rest of your whiskey, you winced as it burned the back of your throat.

Y'sran's smile was gentle as he offered to pour you another. How he could be so huge, covered in sharp scales, and still look so sweet was beyond you - but you found heat pooling in your stomach as your hands brushed, feeling the warmth of his skin and the caress of claws against your wrist. You couldn't help but watch as he poured a drink - of reasonable size this time - careful with the delicate bottle in his massive hands.

Was he so gentle all of the time? Would he treat you softly as he lay you down on the mattress, as he swept his hands across your curves? Or could he be rough, dig those claws into your skin and leave little trails of red scratches in his wake? Your lust had dimmed on the trip back home - but now it reared back full force, leaving your cheeks pink and your abdomen on fire.

Hands brushed once more as Y'sran handed back your drink. His hand practically enveloped the little glass, fingers touching yours before drawing back to take his own. Although his smile was ever confident, you thought there was a slight pinkness to his golden skin.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, drinking whiskey and watching the sky. It was a clear night, the stars above bright silver against the black. Somewhere in the street a dog barked, sound carried on the breeze that tickled the back of your neck now and again. The perfect night for a date.

If that's what this was, of course. You had asked him inside on impulse, without thinking or even knowing what to expect. An erratic move for a usually sensible person - but that was what alcohol did to people. Still, as your gaze drifted back to Y'sran, you couldn't ignore the growing heat low in your stomach. His kind smile, those beautifully dark eyes, his wide-set shoulders and thick waist all fought for your attention, so you let your eyes rove over him while he watched the stars.

There was something so uniquely wonderful about him - you knew that after only a few hours together.

Finishing the second glass of whiskey, the buzz really settled in. The edges of your vision blurred when you turned, and you weren't sure how well you could walk, should you decide to stand. Setting the glass aside, you watched Y'sran shift his weight until his legs were stretched out in front of him. He didn't wear shoes - a fact that had you shoving down the urge to laugh - but where his trousers rode up you saw more golden scales and a winding tattoo of roses around his ankle.

He must have caught you watching because a slow grin spread across his handsome face - and oh, why did that make you want to kiss him? "My brother, Damia, dared me to get a tattoo when I was seventeen. This is what I ended up with."

"I like it," you blurted - only to silently curse yourself. The alcohol was still working its way through your system, leaving you feeling dizzy. "It's cute," you elaborated; but the attempt at explanation only sounded worse. Ugh. Biting down on your lip you looked away, flushed under the intent of his gaze.

"You've had a lot to drink," Y'sran surmised. Deep, rumbling laughter rose in his throat and it sent shivers down your spine. Even his laughter was attractive - how unfair.

Shrugging, you risked a glance his way. You weren't the only one tipsy, at least, if his rosy cheeks and dopey smile were anything to go by. Quirking a brow you challenged, "I might not have dragonborn tolerance, but you don't look so sober yourself."

"I'm not drunk."

"Your breath smells like whiskey." Or was it your own? Hell if you knew. Leaning forward on your knees, you closed the small space between you both, a smile spreading across your lips. And oh yeah, you could smell the whiskey clinging to his breath, even on his skin, as if it had permeated the air with its strength. Underneath that though you could smell the tavern ale, and something deep and musky that was just undoubtedly Y'sran.

Your faces were mere inches from each other now, your hair brushing against his cheeks as it drifted in the breeze. So close you could see the dark chocolate shade of his eyes, speckled with gold and tiny splashes of green. Just another inch or two, and you'd be kissing him-

It happened before you realised. Suddenly your lips crashed against his and his arms were around you, tugging you into his lap. It wasn't clear who moved first or how it even happened but then you were kneeling between his thick thighs, lips tangled with his as he cupped the back of your head with one enormous hand. You let out a little gasp, or maybe it was laughter, as you deepened the kiss.

Y'sran was all too happy to oblige, claws tangling in your hair as he clung to you. His tongue skimmed your bottom lip, tasting of whiskey, and when you opened your mouth to comply he swirled his tongue around yours and left you gasping. The drunken part of you struggled to keep up, your kisses sloppy and mind a haze, but it only seemed to make him more excited.

You reached around to grab his hips - and your hand connected with a glass, spilling the contents into the grass. You didn't even spare a thought for the wasted drink, latching onto those delicious hips and pulling yourself flush against him. He was so damn tall you had to crane your neck, push yourself up by the knees, but your mind was a fog of desire and you didn't care so long as this never ended.

It wasn't until something hard prodded against your thigh that you paused, grinning into the kiss. You reached between his thighs, squeezing the hard muscle there, hands caressing their way toward his crotch-

Y'sran broke the kiss with a breathless gasp, gently plucking your hand away to settle it on his waist. "You're drunk," he said, breath leaving him in short, rasping huffs, "we shouldn't. It wouldn't be fair."

But I want this, you thought dejectedly. Yet part of you - the reasonable part, the part not clouded by lust and alcohol - agreed. Maybe, if you hadn't had those extra whiskeys, but as you came down from the high of kissing him, even just sitting back on your heels had you wobbling dangerously.

"I do want this," Y'sran added with a grin - and yes, you could tell how much he wanted it by the thick bulge in his trousers, "but when you're sober."

You cast a gaze to the sky, to the moon hovering above you. It was late, and you'd had way to much to drink and yes, okay, maybe now wasn't the time. After all, neither of you had promised each other anything when you'd invited him in. Turning back to him, you offered a lopsided smile. "it's your fault for loading me up with whiskey."

"I forget humans are such lightweights."

"Because we're half your size!" Laughter rose in your throat - and just like that, the tension shattered. You leaned over, hands planted firmly between his thighs, to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It was strange, kissing a face that was more snout than lips, but it lit up a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

"Another time," he said - and the promise of another time was more than you'd hoped for.

You couldn't fight the smile that spread across your lips or the delighted laughter that spilled from your throat. You sat back to admire Y'sran, take in all of his shining scales and ropey muscle, as he climbed to his feet. He offered you a hand, one you took gratefully, and he hoisted you upright - you wobbled a bit on the uneven ground, but he held you steady.

Leading you back to the house, Y'sran sat you down on the nearest armchair before returning for the whiskey and tray. "You should have coffee, it will prevent a hangover."

Sprawled out across the chair, legs slung over the side, you must have looked ridiculous - but so what? You'd only known him a day and already he'd seen you embarrass yourself multiple times, yet he was still here. "No coffee," you replied, "not if I want to sleep. Caffeine and I don't mix."

Setting the tray on the coffee table, he grabbed a blanket from the basket by the door. You always kept some there for guests, or for cold nights by the fireplace, and it came in handy now. He lay it over you with such tenderness, his eyes soft, and your heart fluttered. "You should sleep; and I should get home."

You hummed in the back of your throat, casting a glance toward the old clock by the fire. "It's after midnight," you mused, "stay for tonight."

"I can walk home by myself," he noted with a deep laugh.

Well, yeah. You could have too, but he'd still offered to walk you home from the tavern. Sitting up - and wincing at the head rush it produced - you huffed. Oh, Kami was going to hear about this in the morning, even if it was mostly your own fault. "You can have the bed. It'll be small, but it's comfortable. Humour me?"

His eyes flickered to your bedroom - the door was open, revealing the dark silhouette of the bed inside. "I couldn't-"

Reaching out, you placed a warm hand over his. You would never get over how wonderful his skin felt, how it was somehow rough and soft all at once. "Just for tonight," you promised with a grin, squeezing his hand carefully, "just until it's light out."

For a moment he might have argued - but then he rolled his eyes and sent you a flash of a grin that showed the tips of pointed teeth. "Stubborn, aren't you?"

"Always."

The way he gazed at you, eyes soft and dark in the low light, made your heart melt. How was it, that you felt you'd known him forever? There was something so familiar about his kindness, his smiles, something that put you at ease without even trying. "All right," he finally admonished, "I'll stay."

"Good," you wanted to reply - yet when your lips parted all that came out was a yawn that stretched your mouth wide open. Clamping a hand across your face, you ducked away - yet didn't miss how he held in another of those rumbling laughs.

You bid each other goodnight with a kiss, one that lingered just a moment too long, before Y'sran brushed stray hair from your eyes and tucked the blanket around you. There was something so sweet about it, so lovely and warm and comforting, that you didn't even mind being stuck in an armchair all night.

Not if it meant getting to wake up to him in the morning.

--------------------

You slipped back to consciousness with sun streaming through the thin curtains, casting a warm glow across the inside of your eyelids. Strange, your bedroom curtains didn't usually let in this much light. There was something else, too - a salty, smoky scent drifting in through the kitchen. Holding in a yaw, you scrubbed at your eyes and sat up - but wait, you were already upright. Instead of a bed, you were in a chair.

Oh, right! You'd given Y'sran the bed, and stayed in the living room instead. You were still in your clothes too - barefoot, but wearing your dark dress and stockings from the day before. You probably looked a mess, but the smell of bacon lured you toward the kitchen anyway. You'd expected him to leave in the morning, but unless a neighbour had snuck into your house and started making breakfast, Y'sran was still here.

You saw him grilling bacon in a pan over the fire, two mugs of tea already sitting waiting. It was strangely domestic, seeing such a huge man so at home in your own house. He hummed lowly as he cooked - a song you you recognised, some kind of dragonborn melody - and his voice was pleasantly deep, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Morning," you murmured sleepily, sidling over to grab the nearest mug. It was warm in your hands, but not too hot - as if it had been left to cool. How long had Y'sran been awake?

He grinned in reply. "Good morning! I thought I'd let you sleep - I hope you aren't too hungover?"

Ugh. You'd been spared the headache and dry mouth usually accompanied by a night of drinking, but the memory enough left a sour taste in your mouth. You'd been weird last night; first for trying to kiss strangers, even if it had been one of Kami's awful dares. Then for inviting Y'sran home, like you expected anything to happen between you two. "I've been worse," you finally replied, taking a healthy gulp of tea, "I'm sorry for last night."

"Sorry?" he asked, quirking a brow - he had no eyebrow hair, but his big, sloping horn quirked with the movement. It was kind of cute. "I happened to have had a lovely evening."

"You did?" Your chest flipped, eyes darting hopefully up to his. "I suppose I sort of assumed I'd forced your hand."

"If your remember, I asked to walk you home."

Warmth flooded through you, a soft smile gracing your features. "That's a relief. I honestly sort of expected you to be gone by morning."

That brow quirked again, his dark eyes sparkling. "Morning? It's almost noon. This," he pointed toward the sizzling bacon, "nearly counts as lunch."

Oh. Shit. Had you really slept that long? And without even realising! You hadn't slept this late since - well, you couldn't remember when. And to think, Y'sran had been here the entire time. It only warmed you more, knowing he had stuck around to make you something to eat. Shifting from foot to foot, you asked, "do you need any help?"

"It's nearly done," he replied. Then, cheeks flushing a shade of red, he quickly turned back to the fire. "I hope you don't mind me raiding your pantry like this."

Frankly you thought it was sweet - but in fear of sounding sappy you simply said, "not at all."

Breakfast - or lunch, really - was a simple affair of bacon, eggs and bread. You ate in the living room since Y'sran wouldn't fit the kitchen chairs, eating with your hands since he also couldn't use your delicate cutlery. He didn't seem to mind, but you didn't want him to feel out of place so you refrained from a fork too. It was messy, but tasted just as good.

Conversation carried just as easily as it had the night before. Y'sran needed to go into town to check for jobs, and he told you a little about what he did.

"It isn't as dangerous as it sounds," he said through a mouthful of egg, "It's mostly just odd jobs for mayors or other rich people. Find a runaway daughter, kill something causing the town trouble. It's mostly fixing other people's problems. Every so often, though, you come across something really bizarre."

"Like what?" Pushing your half eaten plate aside, you gazed at him with eager eyes. Truthfully you just wanted to keep him talking, keep him here with you for as long as possible. Maybe it was selfish but, well, Y'sran didn't seem to be complaining.

He grinned, bright and eager, and a part of you wished he would always look at you like that. Ugh, how sappy. Y'sran shifted, tucking his feet beneath him in a cross-legged position, tapping his chin in thought. "Well, once we were hired by a nobleman who thought his daughter had been kidnapped - but she had actually eloped with a lich, of all things."

Wrinkling your nose, you cringed. Lich's were rare, so rare most people never came across even one in their lifetime. You couldn't imagine falling in love with one - they were just old bones held together with magic. "So what happened?"

"We worked things out, told the nobleman his daughter wouldn't be coming back. That isn't the interesting part though. My entire party and I were invited to their wedding."

Laughter rose in your throat - you had to clamp a hand across your mouth to muffle it. That would have been an adventure! "It sounds like fun," you admitted, "honestly, I've never travelled much. It hasn't ever really appealed."

"You could come with me to the guild," he offered, "I can't promise danger and adventure, but you can see what it's like."

You perked up at that, nodding with enough enthusiasm you messy hair fell across your eyes. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all. Maybe after, we could get lunch."

Chest stuttering, you could only nod. This was so much more than you had expected - honestly, you had expected the morning to be awkward, for Y'sran to make an excuse to leave. Yet here he was, asking you on a date. At least, you hoped that's what this was. Just the thought alone made you smile, made your stomach flutter with hundreds of tiny butterflies. "I'd love that," you replied softly. Then you remembered your rumpled clothes, sleep-knotted hair, and realised you probably looked about five times as hungover as you actually felt.

As if reading your mind, Y'sran climbed to his feet. "I'll wash up, if you like, while you get ready." Those great curling horns were mere inches from the ceiling, his back a little hunched to fit into the small space. He didn't seem to mind at least, collecting your breakfast dishes with delicate hands. His claws, which you imagined must have been a nuisance, didn't hinder him at all.

Maybe your eyes fixed on those strong hands a moment longer than necessary. There was something so mesmerising about the gentleness there, and you simply couldn't imagine him wielding a weapon or fighting anyone, even if it was part of his job. Blinking, you hauled yourself upright - avoiding his gaze - and offered him a nod. "Thank you. You don't need to do all of this, you know."

"Maybe not," he replied, already moving toward the kitchen, "but I want to."

You grinned the entire way to the bedroom, still smiling even as you tugged a clean dress over your head. You intentionally chose something pretty - a soft shade of orange that was almost a perfect match for Y'sran's horns. It hadn't been intentional, yet as you caught sight of the skirt swishing in the mirror, you made the connection. It brought out the colour of your eyes, even managed to make your unbrushed hair look good.

Running a brush through said hair, you finished it with a bow - only to decide it was too much. After all, you didn't want to make it look like you were trying too hard.

Ten minutes later you wandered back into the main room, peeking through the little archway to see Y'sran finishing up in the kitchen. He turned, wiping his hands on a towel - only for his eyes to go wide as he caught sight of you. He said nothing for a second - and you shifted under the intensity of his gaze, wondering if there was something wrong - before his expression softened. "You look lovely."

Warmth settled in your stomach, a soft feeling you weren't used to. "Thank you," you replied awkwardly, tucking loose hair behind an ear, "I don't always look like a drunken idiot."

"You never did," he said with a deep, rumbling laugh, "you'll need to be careful at the guild - there will be plenty of men vying for your attention."

Sure, you thought - but it still made you feel giddy. Maybe what had started out as a silly dare, could actually turn into more. You'd have to thank Kami later. There was something you never expected to say - but Y'sran was so sweet, so handsome and lovely that it was impossible not to want more.

Y'sran's hand brushed against yours as he walked past, and it sent sparks across your skin. "If you're ready, we can go. The guild gets busy after midday, and the good jobs will be taken if we're not quick."

"Well, I hardly want to be the reason you're out of pocket," you joked, opening the door for him with a flourish. He had to duck to leave, and you stifled a laugh as you slipped out after him. Outside was cool, with a breeze that made your skin prickle and your dress twirl about your ankles.

Y'sran, it seemed, was impervious to the chill. Maybe it was part of being a gold dragonborn - you hadn't had the chance to meet many, but in school you learned some could breathe fire like their full dragon ancestors. Yet he stuck close to you anyway, perhaps sensing you were cold, and the warmth radiated from him like sunshine.

You walked in peaceful silence, ignoring the few heads that turned your way. It must have been quite a sight - a towering dragonborn next to a human half his size. Y'sran must have been used to it, travelling all over, but you felt yourself pressing into his side to avoid the stares.

At least you didn't have to put up with it for long. You'd travelled this road hundreds of times and the familiar shape of the guild swam into view - a hefty brick building nestled between an armoury and a butchers, with a cracked black sign that advertised Freelancer Adventurer's Guild. You'd always avoided walking past before, picking up your pace to scurry past the mean-looking orcs and haughty elves that lingered outside. This time, however, you ad Y'sran wandered over at a leisurely pace, his arm loosely linked with yours. It felt natural, somehow, to be so close to him.

The door stood open to reveal a dimly lit interior, sparsely decorated save for two desks manned by human women, a handful of ancient tables, and notice boards lining the far wall. It didn't look like much, but one of the women smiled so warmly as you entered that you couldn't help but smile back.

"Y'sran!" the woman called, leaning across the desk to usher him over, "I haven't seen you in a while. I've got the perfect job for you, if you're interested."

He glanced down at you - as if he needed your permission to investigate - so you gave him a nod of encouragement. "It's why we're here," you replied with a laugh, "go on! I want to know what she has in store for you."

Rolling his eyes, he flashed a toothy grin and led you over. Maybe he'd forgotten your arms were linked, but he didn't seem at all shy about the public affection. In fact, as you came to stand by the desk, the woman gave a knowing wink, and Y'sran only waved a hand. "I told this lovely lady here I'd show her the guild," he explained, "we're going for lunch after."

"Oh, a date!" she cheered - and the few people inside turned curious glances their way. Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, she let out a musical laugh. "It's about time you found someone, Y'sran. Ten years I've known you, and you've never dated-"

"Georgette, the job?"

"Oh, right!" Laughing, the woman - who you now knew as Georgette - ducked under the desk to grab something, her vibrant red curls all you saw above the desk.

Shifting from foot to foot, you cast Y'sran a raised brow. He simply shrugged as if to say, don't worry about it, and gave your arm a squeeze. Maybe he thought you were uneasy, but quite honestly you just couldn't understand the woman.

"It's here somewhere," Georgette insisted, rifling through stacks of papers and rolls of parchment. Her hair bobbed with every movement and she scrambled to brush it away from her eyes.

"Is she always like this?" you murmured to Y'sran.

He shrugged, eyes twinkling. "Yes," he replied, "you wouldn't think she's worked here for fifteen years." gently tugging on your arm, he said to Georgette, "we can come back once we've looked at the notice boards."

"You won't find anything good there - ah, here it is!" She popped back up with a flourish, all but brandishing parchment in Y'sran's face.

You noticed the way he smiled - that same gentle look he offered to you - as he took the parchment and unravelled it with careful hands. Had they been together at some point? They'd known each other ten years, so it was perfectly plausible, and you didn't want to dwell on why that made your heart sink. It wasn't as if Y'sran was yours. He was just someone you had met by chance and shared an evening with.

Y'sran's voice jolted you from your thoughts, and a gentle elbow prodding your shoulders had you turning to him wide with, curious eyes. "This job is worth a lot," he said, one sharp claw pointing at the offer. "Five hundred gold for a week's work, including travel expenses."

"That's a lot! You should take it."

His expression darkened, tongue nervously flicking from between his lips. A nervous habit shared among lizard people too, you noticed. "I'd love to take it, but I'd have to leave this evening, and I haven't packed or bought supplies."

"So..?"

"So I'd have to cancel our lunch date."

Disappointment filled your chest. You parted your lips to reply, not knowing whether to encourage or dissuade him, only to clamp them closed again. You had no right to dictate what he did, no say in his choice of work. Slipping your arm from around his, you cast your gaze to the floor. "We can have lunch another time," you offered, "it's up to you."

Dragonborn features were sometimes difficult to discern - but Y'sran's disappointment was evident by his furrowed brow and the little crinkle in his snout. It was so cute you found it difficult to stay annoyed. "It would be silly to pass up so much money..."

"Go, take the job," Georgette said with a grin on her round cheeks, "it will make that future date feel even more special when you get back."

Not helping, you thought sourly - but you truly couldn't expect Y'sran to pass up such an offer. Looking up at him - craning your neck as far as it would go - you offered what you hoped was a reassuring smile. "Take the job. I'll be here when you get back."

"You don't mind?"

A little, you thought. "Not at all," was your reply.

So it was decided. Y'sran accepted the job, signing the contract and tucking it away in a hidden pocket inside of his coat. You were in awe of how delicately he held the quill between his huge claws, and your mind began to drift before you were forced to reel it back in. He was leaving soon, and who knew if he would even be interested when he got back. Best not to think about anything too... erotic.

Georgette was positively beaming as she and Y'sran sealed the deal with a handshake. "Good luck! Not that you'll need it; you're the best around."

"Thank you, Georgette."

"Now get out of here, you don't have the time to waste!"

The two of you left together, Georgette waving to you from behind her desk. The other receptionist, who's name you never learned, didn't even look up from her papers.

A breeze cooled your skin as you stepped outside, made you shiver despite the sunshine peeking from between thick white clouds. "Georgette sure is... something," you noted awkwardly, "you seem close. Were you.."?

"Jealous?" Y'sran teased. He led the way into town, pace slowed to a crawl in order for you to keep up. Glancing down, he offered a kind smile. "I know what you're asking - and no, we were never together. To begin with, she doesn't even like men."

"Oh." A dark flush spread across your cheeks. Side by side as you walked, it was impossible to conceal your face - so you turned away, allowing your hair to shield your face from view. "I just assumed, since she was so happy to see you."

His laugh was deep, musical, and sent a shock of warmth spreading through you. "She's just an excitable person," he explained, "she's like that with everyone - oh, watch out!"

You were swept aside just as a tall orc woman marched past - you would have collided straight into her chest had Y'sran not jerked you out of her way. She glared down at you, muttered something you couldn't quite catch, and stormed off down the street with a haughty huff.

"Distracted, are we?"

Embarrassed, more like, and now you looked like even more of an idiot. Ugh. Just when you thought things were going well, you had to stick your foot in it again. Yet with Y'sran's warm hand still against your back and his smile sparkling in the sun, you couldn't help but feel better. Offering an awkward attempt at a smile, you started walking again. "Sorry. I suppose I was just looking forward to today."

Y'sran hummed low in his throat, expression creasing into a look of concern. "I'm sorry," he replied, "I was, too. I won't be gone for long though - we can pick up where we left off."

The town centre swam into view, the almost empty streets filling with people going about their day. Any other conversation you might have had was cut off as a group of women hurried past, bowling right between you both as they chatted away. You were pushed back, tripping over uneven cobblestones, and none of them even paused to apologise. By the time they left, you were scowling.

"I think that was a sign it's time to part ways," Y'sran murmured. He reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and ghosted a kiss across your forehead. "I need to buy supplies before I leave. Think you can last a week without me?"

"I'll try," you shot back with a smirk - but the effect was lost as he gently cupped your chin between two claws and you all but melted into his touch. You were in the middle of the street for goodness sake, people weaving past you with hushed mutters as you blocked the path. Yet in that moment you didn't care.

Y'sran's kiss was soft, mouth curving into a smile as it met your own. It was slow, chaste, barely giving you time to register the warmth of his skin or the taste of breakfast lingering on his tongue. Then he was moving back, hands brushing against yours, and you felt disappointment settled heavily in your stomach. "I'll see you next week," he promised with a grin, "try not to be too heartbroken."

A laugh puffed from your lips as you waved goodbye. He waved back as he disappeared into the busy street, towering above even the tallest orcs lingering by the shop fronts. You watched him go, not caring if he knew, until even his curling horns disappeared into the distance.

Then you spun on your heel and made for home, hoping the rest of the week didn't drag on too long.

--------------------

Asking Kami and Dot to help you ready for the date was, to say the least, a terrible idea. It was all you'd talked about all week and maybe they were just glad the day had arrived, but they'd spent the entire day making you look good - even letting you borrow Dot's auburn dress, the bodice tied so tightly you couldn't breathe.

Sure, Dot had loosened it in the end, but that wasn't the point. You were overdressed and looked ridiculous. So as soon as they left you'd taken your hair down, removed the giant earrings Dot had forced to you wear, and changed the shoes for a more practical pair of boots.

Y'sran wasn't due back in town until the evening, so you passed the rest of the time rereading the letter he had sent you. At first you worried he would lose interest, that the week away would have made his attention drift - but five days into the job you had received a letter that said otherwise.

I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope the wait isn't too painful. The job is going well - I only have to deal with wild boars that have left their forest and caused trouble in a small town near Goldcrest. The pay is far too much for such an easy job, but I won't complain. I will be back by Saturday evening. I confess I haven't stopped thinking about you since we parted, so I hope you will meet me at the Black Dove for dinner. Seven o'clock. I can't wait to see you, and I hope our time apart hasn't given you second thoughts.

Yours, Y'sran

Your eyes fixed on the clock for the hundredth time today, fingers tapping restlessly against your knee. It took you barely ten minutes to walk to the Black Dove, but you just couldn't wait any longer. Hopping to your feet, you fetched shoes and a shawl, buzzing with unspent energy. You felt like a teenager with their first crush, too eager for their first date.

Outside was cold, the sky overcast with clouds, but you barely felt the chill as you hurried to lock up. The street was quiet at this time of night, and the town square wouldn't be much busier, so you forced yourself to walk at an even pace. It was quiet, and peaceful, and there was no reason to rush.

Even so, your excitement took over and you arrived too early, hovering outside of the tavern like someone up to no good. Through the window you saw the bar, with a friendly firbolg chatting away to the woman serving him. You caught sight of a few tables, most of them empty - but there was an amiable atmosphere with candles flickering and lights strung from the rafters.

Two satyrs ambled past, arms linked and laughing softly. Their horns clinked as they kissed, before disappearing inside the tavern.

You watched them go, unable to hide your smile. Sweet. You should probably go inside too, instead of hovering outside like an idiot, so you pushed open the door and followed the satyr couple in.

The first thing you noticed was the warmth. It hit you like a physical force, so nice compared to the cold outside, and you signed in relief. There were tables and boots scattered about the spacious room, but the back was mostly taken and besides, you wanted to sit somewhere Y'sran could find you. There was a table by the window that overlooked the street, the windowsill lined with potted plants of all colours. You assumed they were fake, but the sweet flowery scent hit you the second you sat down.

Really, you couldn't have chosen a better place for a first date. Now all you needed was the man himself. A nervous glance toward the clock - it hung above the bar, half obscured by the waitress' head - confirmed it was exactly eight-o'clock. Which, fair enough, who was ever perfectly on time anyway? Yet it didn't stop you from fixing your gaze to the street, leg bouncing under the table.

Waiting patiently for his arrival - or at least, as patiently as you could. It wasn't long before you saw a towering figure across the street, golden scales shimmering in the light from the disappearing sun. A moment later the bell above the tavern door chimed, and Y'sran's form filled up the entire doorway. He spotted you immediately, a smile on his face, and settled in the chair across.

"I started to think you wouldn't come," you joked, only half kidding.

Reaching across the table to take your hand in his, his smile only widened. "I was late getting back, is all. I'm sorry to keep you waiting." The table was small - too small for Y'sran, probably - and he leaned across with ease to place a kiss against your forehead.

You intercepted though, heart skipping, so your lips met. You doubted you'd ever get used to kissing him, to kissing features so different to your own, and you sank into the kiss with a wistful sigh. Y'sran smelled faintly of damp grass and autumn leaves from being on the road, but to you it was perfect.

A cough had you both jolting apart, cheeks flared pink. Glancing up, you were met with the tense smile of the woman from behind the bar. "You two going to order drinks?"

"Uh," you hesitated, mind blanking. How long had she been standing there? You fumbled, suddenly unable to think of a single drink you wanted.

Y'sran, as usual, saved the day. "Ale for me, please. The same for you?"

"Sure," you managed to sputter out, cheeks positively scarlet. It took all of your energy not to just bury your face in your hands - or smack your head against the table.

The woman stalked off, swiping empty glasses from another table as she went, and you watched her with muted embarrassment. Yet as you turned to Y'sran he was beaming, barely hiding his laughter behind one huge palm. Even when he was laughing at you it didn't feel cruel, and you found a smile curling at your own features as he huffed out a muffled snort.

"Are you always this bashful?"

"In my defence, I don't usually get caught kissing."

Humming in agreement, he simply took your hand once more. It always made you feel giddy, the casual show of affection - and maybe he knew. Maybe that was why he did it so often. Regardless, you spent a moment just enjoying the contact, the warmth.

"So," Y'sran spoke, turning to admire the flowers on the windowsill. They really were pretty, but his attention didn't last, instead focusing on you. "You have my undivided attention, finally. And I'd like to get to know you."

You wanted to get to know him, and you couldn't imagine anything you could tell him was more interesting than his adventures beyond Dawncross. But he was looking at you so intently, his free hand propping up his chin and his eyes soft, and you melted under his gaze. So you told him everything, however boring - about your family, your life in Dawncross, Kami and Dot and all of your other friends, about your job and your garden and plans for the future.

He told you about his life too. His travelling party consisted of four other dragonborn; two of them brothers he met on the road, the other two childhood friends. Dragonborn could live long lives, and some of them had been travelling longer than Y'sran or you had been alive. He told you of his family, of which he had two brothers and a sister living all over the country. He lived such a rich, interesting life it made you nostalgic for something you'd never even had.

Drinks arrived and were polished off, and you ordered several more rounds after your meal, too. Hardly even aware of the time passing, you only noticed when the tavern began to grow quiet. What had already been a peaceful tavern was now almost empty - just you, Y'sran, and a group of giggling women in the corner.

"We're closing up soon," the woman called from the bar, "ten minutes."

The group of women - mostly orcs and humans - grumbled quietly, but they finished their drinks without complaint.

Turning to Y'sran, you offered a lopsided smile. There was a faint buzz in the back of your mind, but you'd been drinking weak ale and you hardly even noticed the effects. "I suppose we should get going. I get the impression we wouldn't want to anger her."

He hummed in agreement, a sound deep in his throat that made you shiver. "Can I walk you home?"

"If you didn't ask, I would have."

You left together, hand in hand, although with the height difference you were sure it couldn't have been comfortable for him. You meandered down the street together, enjoying the quiet. It was cooler tonight, thick clouds looming in the dark sky, but next to Y'sran you were quickly warmed.

With your house so close it was mere minutes before you reached your destination. Disappointment settled as you unlocked the door, turning to him with a smile. "I'd hate to cut this short," you murmured, nudging his hand, "would you like to come in again?" This time, you didn't intend it to be just for drinks.

His smile came so naturally, fangs glinting in the dim light. "I'd love to," he replied.

You slipped inside, hand intertwined with his as you led him in too. Y'sran had to duck through the doorway and you stifled a giggle, but the laughter was interrupted by a gasp as Y'sran swept you up in his broad, scaled arms. Your heart jumped into your throat, hands grasping at the thin fabric of his tunic - but of course, you weighed practically nothing to him and soon you settled into the embrace.

"It's cold," he murmured, "should we make tea to warm us up?"

Your faces were mere inches from each other, is breath warm against your skin, and you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Tea's nice, but I was thinking of... something else." This bravery in you was rare, and you couldn't even blame it on being drunk this time, but as your heart skittered in your chest you took the chance and crushed your lips to his.

Y'sran met your kiss with equal intensity. His grip around your waist tightened, but his claws hardly skimmed your skin. He couldn't kiss you like a human could, but his tongue swiped at your lower lip and he tasted of ale and sweet honey from your meal, and he was just so damn gentle you felt yourself relaxing into him. Then he nibbled at your lower lip and you gasped, his tongue slipping past your open mouth to explore you further.

Your hand found the side of his jaw, caressing the rough scales there. You broke the kiss, panting heavily as your heart thundered in your ears - but you weren't done. Shifting in his arms, you trailed lingering smooches across the angular line of his jaw, down his neck, smiling as he shivered. You paused just above the neck of his tunic, tugging at the fabric.

"Are you sure?" Y'sran murmured.

You could have laughed, but the barely contained lust in his expression had the sound catching in your throat. "I've wanted you since we met," you answered honestly - and he knew it, too. If he had turned you down that first time, worried you only wanted it because you were drunk, he didn't need to worry about that now. To prove your point you kissed him again, nipping at the tender skin of his collar bone.

A low growl emanated from deep within his throat, his hands clenching around your waist. His pupils were blown so wide you could hardly see the dark amber of his iris, and it made you squirm in his grasp. He must have noticed, because his iron grip loosened and he flushed - just a rosy pink beneath the gold.

"You know where the bedroom is. What are you waiting for?" Brushing a hand across his horns, you smiled - and Y'sran trembled under your attention. Interesting. Experimentally you touched him again, a feather-light touch from the base of his horn right to the tip. It elicited the same response - a low hum, eyes fluttering, and a shudder ran through his entire body.

Well, that's something to keep in mind for later, you thought devilishly.

It wasn't long before Y'sran was carrying you to the bedroom, squeezing through the narrow doorway to lay you down on the soft mattress. The bed dipped beneath his weight and you tilted toward him - he hesitated, a frown creasing his features.

"It'll hold," you murmured, "so get over here."

It was all the encouragement he needed. Knees braced on either side of you, Y'sran lowered himself onto the bed with gentle cautiousness. Then he swept you into another bruising kiss, his fangs nipping at your delicate lips, and the rest of his inhibitions dissolved into nothing. He was a solid weight above you, blocking out even the tiniest streak of light from the window, and he looked absolutely perfect.

Your hands fumbled for his clothes as you kissed, finding the belt around his waist and tearing it off - it was tossed aside, landing with a heavy thud somewhere by the door. Then you reached for his tunic too, hands fisting around the thin fabric. Y'sran raised his arms, breaking the kiss just long enough for you to discard the shirt, before your lips joined again.

When he reached for your own clothes, you wasted no time in stripping them away. The stockings went first, Y'sran's claws hooking around the fabric and peeling them from your legs. The dress went next, then your stays, but the awkwardness of wriggling out of the restricting garments only made the anticipation better.

Once you were fully naked beneath him, Y'sran moved back to admire your form. His breath came in heavy gasps, eyes roving over every inch of exposed skin. "Beautiful," he murmured, hands skimming over your stomach.

"Pretty gorgeous yourself," you replied, admiring the thick, ropey muscle of his torso. He was scarred, patches of scales marred or missing, thin grooves cut into his skin - but that only made him more lovely. Heat was beginning to spread through you, desire making you so restless you were squirming just from looking. But oh, you could have looked forever.

Wordlessly, you helped Y'sran out of his remaining clothes. His hands never left you, exploring every part of you he could reach. One hand enveloped your breast entirely, claws cold but hands warm. He palmed at you, a soft sigh leaving him, and you let out a groan of your own as you tossed his trousers and underwear aside.

In the heat of the moment, you hadn't even realised he was hard. Now, with your eyes fixed on him in the semi-darkness, it became impossible to miss. He was proportionate, but that didn't make him any less huge. His dick lay heavily between his thighs and yours, pale golden scales morphing into tanned, pinkish skin.

Y'sran must have taken your hesitation for concern, his eyes dark. "Too much? We don't have to-"

"I want to," you reassured, a gentle hand skimming across the soft skin of his inner thigh. He shivered, untensing just a little, and let out a low hum that left you aching. "Just go slow, all right?"

"I will. Promise."

Y'sran dipped down to capture your lips in a burning kiss, grabbing eager handfuls of your tender flesh - then his free hand reached between your thighs, a ragged gasp of appreciation leaving his lips. He said nothing - didn't need to, because the intensity of his hot gaze said it all.

When his first finger slipped between you, you groaned; arching into his palm as heat streaked through your core. He was gentle as he worked you, murmuring sweet word you could hardly comprehend, your mind fuzzy, skin burning up. Hands grasped at his hips, pulled him down toward you so you could plant wet, messy kisses along his neck.

He was groaning too, breath sharp and heavy as his hand worked inside of you. "You feel so good," he murmured breathlessly, "I can't wait to get inside you."

It was those words, said in a breathless whisper as his dark eyes met yours, that did it. Back arched, hands gripping his hips so tightly they turned white, you came with a soft cry of release that left your head spinning. You came too fast, too soon, but you didn't have it in you to feel even a shred of embarrassment.

Y'sran loomed above you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "I barely even got started," he teased. His hand came away slick and damp, and just that sight alone had lust bubbling within you once again. Then he ducked down, the bed squealing dangerously beneath him, to brush his lips against the soft skin below your navel.

You squirmed beneath him, face flushed and heart impatient. "Y'sran," you murmured, "any other time I would be loving this - but I swear to God if you don't-"

"Eager, aren't you?" He lifted his head, eyes sparkling, that beautiful, familiar smile spread across his handsome features.

"I'm not kidding." You shot him an even look - but it was ruined by the desperate little whimper as Y'sran dug his fingers into your thighs.

"Well, I wouldn't want to keep you waiting," he said - as if this was all for you, as if you couldn't see the way his eyes darted across your body or feel how his enormous hands kneaded at your flesh. He was thrumming with energy, dick twitching against your thighs and eager gaze drinking you up. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Y'sran was just as gentle as he promised, guiding himself to you with painful slowness. Yet it didn't prepare you - he filled you up, left you gasping and panting as his huge body shifted on top of you. A part of you was worried for the bed, worried it was too old and too weak - but those thoughts, and any others, were abandoned as Y'sran began to move.

What began as slow, rhythmic movements quickly began to increase. His pace quickened and you struggled to keep up, heart thundering against your ribs and breath catching in your throat. Everything about him felt amazing - the hands grasping at your breasts, claws digging in just enough not to leave marks. His thighs squeezing yours, forcing himself deeper inside you. Even his tail, which had curled around your ankle, was perfect.

"Shit," Y'sran murmured, "you're so good. Perfect. Y-you take me so well."

The heat within you was mounting, vision struggling to focus. Hands, damp with sweat, dug into his hard scales. Lip caught between your teeth, you let out a strangled moan as Y'sran thrust inside of you - it didn't take him long to find a sweet spot and soon enough you were panting his name between heavy, laboured breaths.

Y'sran kissed you, fangs grazing your teeth as he thrust too hard, your heads bumping. For a moment you both lost the rhythm - Y'sran recovered first, your name a whisper in his throat. It tickled your skin, made you shudder, made a home in your heart. He repeated it over and over like a mantra, and you simply couldn't hold it in any longer.

Heat flooded as the orgasm rocked through you - you saw stars, mind going white before you came crashing back down. Y'sran followed moments later, a low growl emanating in his throat and you felt his chest rumble against your own. He collapsed beside you, bed creaking, and pulled you against his side. He was slick with come and sweat, but you slung a leg across his thighs anyway, unable to care about anything except for his warmth.

"Worth the wait?" Y'sran asked - and the way he looked at you, eyes pinched and snout twisted, it seemed like a genuine question.

"Better than I could have imagined," you replied truthfully, "and believe me, I spent plenty of time imagining." As your heart rate returned to normal you managed to sit up, still a little wobbly, to sit atop his wide thighs.

He looked up at you with questioning eyes, but there was a cheeky glimmer there too. "Already?"

"I've been told dragonborn bounce back quickly," you replied with a grin, "I feel like I should find out for myself just how true that it."

His laugh was deep, jostling you until you had to brace hands against his expansive chest. Then he grabbed your butt, claws making you shiver, and sent you a beaming grin. "I could go all night.

"Good," you shot back with a laugh of your own, "so could I." Then you ducked down, nibbling at his lower jaw, and knew exactly when Y'sran was ready for round two.

#exophilia #exophilia fiction #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #monster romance #ns//fw #tag: mxf #tag: dragonborn #tag: male monster #tag: female reader #tag: not sfw

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thetravelerwrites · 4 years

Text

Dr. Mael Halvorg (Finale) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Male Part-Fae/Female Part Fae Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Fae, Reader Insert, Genetics Content Warnings: Children, Pregnancy, Incubation, Birth, Babies, Surgery, Male Infertility, Mention of Cancer Words: 4233

The finale of @ivymemnoch‘s commission! The reader takes Dr. Halvorg on a weekend trip for his birthday and changes his life forever. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

The plus sign on the stick had taken you by surprise. You don’t know why, though; you knew this was probably going to happen eventually when you decided to stop your birth control. Of course, you didn’t expect it to happen so soon, since he was still recovering and potentially wouldn’t necessarily be any more fertile than he had been before, but considering how prolific your family was, it shouldn’t have been a shock.

Three months after Maël’s surgery, his test results had been not quite normal but favorable, and he was already talking to you about perhaps finding a surrogate and in-vitro fertilization, getting your opinion and making sure you’d be okay with it. You told him to wait, perhaps, and give himself more time to allow his… swimmers… to get stronger. You hadn’t told him you were already prepared to carry his child for him. You wanted it to be a surprise. A gift.

But now, after dating for six months, there it was. Right there on the ultrasound screen: a tiny little baby belly bean, no bigger than your thumb. Whatever doubts you had were always drowned out by one sentence.

He’s going to be so happy.

You went into his office after getting home from the OBGYN, having told him you were simply going in for your normal bi-yearly check-up. He was working, like always, but he looked up when you came in and smiled.

“How’d it go?” He asked you.

“Totally normal and healthy,” You replied. The both of us.

“I’m glad to hear that,” He said, putting down his pen. “No lunch with Amai? It’s Wednesday.”

“I know,” You said. “But I wanted to spend time with you.”

His smile widened and he opened his arms. You went over and sat in his lap, giving him a kiss.

“So, you’re birthday is coming up,” You said nonchalantly.

He snorted. “I haven’t celebrated my birthday in over one hundred years.”

“All the more reason to do it now!” You insisted. “I want to take you on a weekend trip. There’s somewhere special I want you to see.”

“And what would that be?” He asked, smiling at you fondly.

“A surprise,” You said, twitching his nose. “It’s in New York, though.”

His head rocked back. “That’s a ways away. Why are we going so far?”

“You’ll see. Do you want to go? Please?” You looked up through your lashes at him, being playful, hoping you weren’t being too weird and that he didn’t suspect anything.

“Well, alright. I don’t really have much work to do right now.”

You sat up and looked at him in shock, laughing. “I totally didn’t expect you to agree!”

He hugged you close and laughed too. “Well, there’s no reason not to, I suppose. And I’ll do just about anything for you if you ask nicely enough. God, it’s been ages since I actually took an actual vacation.”

“See? Perfect timing.” You bit your lip and looked at the door slyly. “Does the door lock?”

His eyes flicked to the door and back to you, narrowing them. “Yes. But the room isn’t soundproof.”

“I can be quiet. Promise.”

You thought he’d decline and say it was inappropriate to be intimate in his office, that he’d see you after he was done working and then the two of you could play back at his massive suite. Which was now your suite as well, as you’d moved in with him about a month ago.

What you didn’t expect was him to grin sinfully at you and get up, closing the blinds. He went around to lock the door and sat on the couch on the opposite side of his desk and patted his lap. Smirking, you joined him.

Climbing into his lap slowly, straddling him, you went in for a deep, probing kiss, dragging your fingernails down his chest over his shirt. He groaned against your lips and put his hands on your legs, petting under your skirt and slip, raking his fingers against the lip of your stockings. You’d taken to wearing stockings because he rather liked them. It seemed to do a lot to turn him on, especially when they were all you were wearing. He also had a corset fetish, too, but you couldn’t wear a corset all the time, especially around the children, so stockings were a happy medium.

He kneaded your buttocks under your skirt as you reached between the two of you and unbuckled his pants, unzipped the zipper, and reached in, fondling him over his underwear. His groaned deepened and he squirmed underneath you, his head falling back onto the cushions.

You started kissing his neck, pulling up his shirt and running your hands up his back. He had large, curious scales on his back, an artifact of his fae heritage. They were a lot like pangolin scales: wide, brown, and ridged. He often wore special padded shirts, because normal shirts were shredded by the end of the day. You thought they were adorable and loved grooming them for him, which he greatly enjoyed and made him almost purr, though you could cut a finger on them if you weren’t careful.

He reached under you and pulled your panties aside, lining himself up with your entrance. You sank slowly down onto him, drawing it out, and he hissed in a breath, biting his lip to keep quiet. You began to move on him, and he moved under you, thrusting up as you thrust down. He was always a very active, enthusiastic participant during sex, even if you took the lead. One hundred years of celibacy might have had something to do with that.

He flipped your skirt up and tucked it into your waistband so that he could watch himself go into and out of you, watch your thighs flex and contract, and run his thumbs up the straps of your stockings. You pulled the tie from his white-blonde hair and shook it out of it’s neat braid, letting it fall around his shoulders so that you could play with and tug on it. His pace quickened, and you matched his rhythm, the both of you beginning to pant and moan, quickly suppressed.

There was a knock on his door. “Dr. Halvorg? I need your signature on these invoices.”

He pulled you against his shoulder, muffling your sounds of pleasure, but he didn’t stop thrusting. You bit into his shoulder to keep yourself for crying out.

“What are they for?” He called through the door, his voice remarkably even-sounding.

“For the medical equipment from Broadchurch,” The assistant said.

“No, no, we never got the product, we’re not paying that,” He said, for all the world sounding like he was sitting as his desk staring at paperwork and not railing you on his couch.

“I’m going to cum,” You whispered into his ear.

“You promised to stay quiet,” He told you just as silently.

“I can’t!” You responded desperately.

“You promised.”

“So what should I do?” The assistant said, seemingly none the wiser that you were about to explode.

“Call them and ask where our equipment is. Until they locate it, they’re not getting a penny.”

You balled up his shirt in your hands and gritted your teeth as you came, gushing on him and holding your breath to stay quiet. You made a squeak, and his hand closed on your throat.

“Shh, shh,” He hushed.

“I’ll call them back, but I don’t think they’ll be very helpful,” The assistant replied. “They haven’t responded to any of the emails. The only communication is from emails.”

“Send them an email, then. I’m busy, though, so get on with it,” He said impatiently, staring at your face as your orgasm crested and ebbed, keeping a firm grip on your neck.

“Yes, sir,” The assistant said. You heard their footsteps recede.

“Oh, fuck,” You breathed.

“You did well,” He said, allowing his breathing to go fast and shallow. God, he had amazing self restraint. “Good girl. Stay still, I’m almost there.”

His pace became frenetic and bounced you high on his lap. He let go your your throat and gripped your hips, slamming you down upon him. He grunted, getting a little red in the face as he smacked his body into you.

You felt him release inside you, pulsing against your inner walls. When he was done, he flipped you over and lay you down on the couch, watching his seed well up and out of you to drip down onto the vinyl couch. He always did that, and you weren’t sure why.

You went to the en-suite bathroom to clean yourself up and brought him a wet towel so that he could do the same. When you were both done and had straightened your clothes, you spent a few minutes making out against his desk before he sighed.

“I should help my assistant contact the supply company. He’s a bit of a pushover, the poor kid.” Maël smiled down at you. “That was nice. We should do that more often.”

“We almost got caught!” You objected.

“Hey, it was your idea,” He said, grinning. “I’m looking forward to whatever you have planned for our trip. I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

“It definitely will be. I promise.” You kissed him one more time, lingering for a moment, before unlocking the door and letting yourself out.

Next week, Saturday morning, you took a plane out to Albany, New York, and drove a rental car to a house in Glenmont. When you stopped in the driveway, Maël looked at you with confusion and a little bit of apprehension.

“I don’t understand,” He said. “What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see,” You replied. “Come on.”

You walked him up to the front door and knocked. A young woman in her forties or fifties answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, are you Mrs. Winston?”

“Oh, yes, you must be the young woman I spoke to over the phone!” She said. “Come in, come in. He’s in the parlor.”

“Thank you so much.” You stepped into the house with Maël following. You could feel the curiosity and confusion radiating off of him.

You were led into a sitting room where a man in a wheelchair was reading a paper at a table. He was quite old, by human standards, in his mid-eighties perhaps. He was hooked up to an IV and had an oxygen cannula in his nostrils.

“Dad?” The woman said softly. “You’ve got visitors.”

The man looked up at the two of you. Despite his advanced age, he seemed completely within his faculties.

“Are you the woman I talk to?” He asked you.

“Yes, sir,” You responded. “Thank you for agreeing to see us.”

“It’s no problem,” He said. He was staring at Maël.

You pulled him forward. “Dr. Maël Halvorg,” You said to Maël. “I’d like you to meet Dr. Maël Halvorg. Robert’s son.”

Maël’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped in shock. He seemed unable to speak. You smiled at him encouragingly and nudged him forward.

He cleared his throat and held out his hand. “It’s a genuine pleasure to meet you, sir,” Maël said in a small voice. “May I sit down.”

“Please,” The man, Dr. Halvorg, said, shaking Maël’s hand and gesturing toward the chairs. You and Maël took a seat.

“Do you know who I am, sir?” Maël asked tentatively.

“I do,” Dr. Halvorg responded. “You raised my father.”

“Yes,” Maël said, smiling in relief. “I loved your father very much.”

“I know you did,” Dr. Halvorg replied. “My father spoke of a lot when I was growing up.”

“Is he… is he alive?”

“No. I’m afraid he died about eleven years ago,” Dr. Halvorg said sadly.

Maël sighed and hung his head a little. “I suspected that might be the case, but I hoped.” He looked back up at the older gentleman. “Did he grow up okay? What kind of man was he? I apologize, but I just have so many questions.”

Dr. Halvorg chuckled. “It’s no trouble. Honestly, I was hoping I might get to meet you one day.”

Maël smiled. “You were?”

“Oh, yes. May father told me so many stories about you when we kids were growing up.”

“How many children did he have?” Maël asked earnestly.

“Four sons,” Dr. Halvorg replied. “He was a great father and a brilliant man, though he said he had a rough start.”

Maël nodded. “Yes, Robert had some learning disabilities that made certain things difficult.”

“He told me that many people said he was lazy and stupid, and that you were the only one who believed he could learn. You dedicated much of your time to helping him.”

“Yes,” Maël said. “Being in school made him quite frustrated and sad, so I took him from school and taught him myself at home. He seemed to respond positively to that.”

“Indeed, he did,” Dr. Halvorg replied. “It was because of you that my dad became a teacher.”

“Robert was a teacher?” Maël asked delightedly.

“Oh, yes,” Dr. Halvorg responded. “He taught children much like himself, the ones who needed special attention and care. He was well respected in his field and much loved by his students. He didn’t want to retire, in fact. It was age and illness that forced him to stop.”

Maël held a hand to his chest. “I’m so proud to hear that. Robert was always a determined boy, so I’m so pleased to learn he kept at it.”

“He struggled, I’m afraid,” Dr. Halvorg admitted. “After his mother, my grandmother, left you for his biological father, things changed quite a bit. His father was not as understanding or as patient as you had been and set him back rather badly.”

Maël frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“As far as my memory goes, he never called that man ‘father.’ As far as he was concerned, you were his dad. But his biological father insisted on wiping you out of their lives. That’s why he had to hide that.” Dr. Halvorg pointed to a picture on the mantle. “Young lady, could you kindly retrieve that?”

“Of course,” You said, standing up and going to the mantle, where there was a black-and-white photograph in a frame. It was Maël, wearing fine early twentieth century clothes, his hair cut short and wearing a flat cap. He was standing with his hands on the shoulders of a young boy, perhaps eight, wearing similar clothes. You took it and handed it to Dr. Halvorg, who gave it to Maël.

Maël stared at the picture, his eyes bright and glittering with tears. “I never thought I’d see his face again.”

“Keep that,” Dr. Halvorg said. “He’d have wanted you to.”

“Oh, I couldn’t!” Maël said. “This is yours!”

“I have digital copies,” Dr. Halvorg said dismissively. “In any case, I won’t be needing it much longer anyway. Stage four lung cancer, you see.”

“I’m so sorry,” Maël said mournfully. “Can anything be done?”

Dr. Halvorg shook his head. “I’ve lived a good life. I have children, and grandchildren, a beautiful wife, a wonderful job. The one thing I wanted was to meet my father’s father. Not that other man who did his best to tear my father down. The man who did his best to lift my father up. You. And I’ve done that. I can go now content.”

Maël’s restraint cracked, and he wept. “I appreciate that very much,” He said in a strangled whisper.

Maël and Dr. Halvorg talked for hours, recounting stories from both Robert’s childhood and adulthood. Dr. Halvorg showed Maël pictures of his siblings and children. Maël told Dr. Halvorg about his life’s work in reviving dying races. You watched the two of them interacting, and it made your heart swell with gladness. You’d never seen Maël so happy and excitable.

Finally, nearing sundown, you realized that Dr. Halvorg was becoming tired. His daughter came in to give him his evening meal and medication, and the two of you said goodbye.

“It has been an absolute joy, Dr. Halvorg,” Maël said, shaking Dr. Halvorg’s hand. “You lovely daughter has my number and my email, so please keep in touch.”

“My pleasure,” Dr. Halvorg said. “You have a nice trip back with your lady, Grandad.”

Maël laughed and teared up again. “I will.”

Outside, before you could get back in the car, Maël pulled you into a tight, warm hug.

“Thank you,” He whispered into your hair softly. “Thank you so much. I love you. I love you. I can never repay you for this.”

“What about a diamond ring and a pretty white dress?” You asked, wiping his tears and smiling up at him.

He laughed. “It’s a deal.”

Back at the hotel, he sat on the bed and stared at the photograph, pointing out little marks on Robert’s face and telling you stories about them. You listened with your head on his shoulder.

Eventually he stopped and placed the frame carefully in his suitcase.

“Are you hungry? I’m starving. Let’s order something.”

“Before we do,” You said. “I have a birthday gift for you.”

He chuckled incredulously. “Honey, I appreciate that, but honestly, there’s no possible way you could have topped what you gave me today.”

“Are you sure about that?” You asked, going to your suitcase and pulling out a small rectangular box. “Here, open it.”

The second he saw the pregnancy test, he fell to his knees, sobbing loudly, his head pressed against the floor. You knelt next to him and rubbed his back, letting him get it all out. Years of despair, pain, and sadness being released. You’re sure he was overwhelmed, so you waited in silence and lay your head against him.

“Is this real?” He choked.

“It’s real,” You assured him. “I have an ultrasound picture.”

His head popped up, tears streaming down his face. “Can I see it?”

“Of course,” You said, pulling it from your purse.

“Oh, my God,” He wept, staring at the small bean in the picture. “Oh, my God. It’s mine?”

“Yes, honey, it’s yours,” You said. “We can do a paternity test if you want, but I promise you it’s your baby.”

He stopped being able to speak and just cried. He cried for a very long time. You picked him up and laid him in the bed and ordered some food. While waiting for it, you climbed into bed and held him.

“Are you okay?” He asked after some time.

“Me? Yeah, I’m completely fine. Are you okay? You were crying pretty hard there. I’m surprised you haven’t fallen asleep. I’d be exhausted.”

“That’s not what I mean,” He said, lifting your chin so you were looking at him. “Are you okay with having a baby? I know I’ve been talking about wanting to have a child for as long as we’ve known each other, but is this what you want?”

“Yes, it is,” You told him. “I stopped my birth control months ago.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d done that,” He said.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” You said, stroking his cheek.

“You. Are. Amazing,” He breathed. “I am so happy. Happier than I have any business being, and it’s all because of you.”

“You deserve to be happy, Maël,” You said. “Don’t ever thin’ otherwise.”

He pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you back.”

Yenuno and Amai we’re overjoyed to hear the good news, and the children also seemed to be happy to have a new playmate coming. Maël seemed unable to stop smiling. He took time off from work to take care of you during the worst of your morning sickness and was present for every doctor’s appointment, every ultrasound, every time you even texted him. If you asked, he’d drop anything he was doing to come and help you.

His little girl was born in the spring, and he named her Roberta. He took her everywhere with him, rarely putting her down for any reason, even keeping her on his shoulder when he was working. The joy that radiated from him was infectious, and everyone near him couldn’t help but smile at his brand new attitude.

You planned your wedding for fall that same year, and afterward, you and Maël were able to take Roberta up to New York to meet Dr. Halvorg. He passed away a few weeks later. You and Maël attended his funeral, and as Dr. Halvorg was buried in the same family plot as Robert, Maël got the chance to visit his son’s grave for the very first time.

“Hi, Robert,” He said softly, kneeling down in front of the headstone. You waited with Roberta asleep in your arms a few paces back.

“I’m sorry,” Maël said, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry I didn’t do more when your mother took you. I wish I had fought to keep you, but I didn’t think I had any right. I just wanted to know where you had gone and if you were safe, but she told me nothing about where you were going and disappeared. I bribed the men at the train station and the docks to look through the ledgers, to try and find your name, but I never found it.

“I will always blame myself for not doing more, for not stepping in and making sure we could keep in contact. I should have taken it to the courts and let them decide, but I… I was scared they would determine I trying to hold on to something that wasn’t mine.”

Maël sniffed and wiped his eyes.

“I just wish I had one more chance,” He continued. “I wish I could have had a phone call, at the very least, to talk to you and hear your voice and tell you what I should have said back then. That it didn’t matter whose child you were biologically or legally. I was your father. You were my son. Nothing would ever change that.” His voice cracked further. “You will always be my son.”

After a moment silent tears hitting the grass where Robert lay sleeping, Maël straightened up an took a deep breath.

“I know where you are now, and I’ll come visit again, you and my grandson,” Maël said. He laughed. “I can’t believe you named your son after me. I’m honored more than I can tell you.”

Maël turned to you and opened his arms for the sleeping form of his daughter, his face wet with tears, and you passed her over.

“You have a baby sister, Robert,” He said, smiling. “I named her after you. She’s always smiling and happy. She reminds me so much of you when you were little that it’s kind of scary. I think the two of you would have been best friends. I’ll make sure she knows all about you.”

You put a hand on his back and rubbed gently. He kissed Roberta’s forehead and tiny little ear.

“We have to go now, Robert. You’re baby sister is going to wake up soon and be hungry. But I’ll come back to see you again, I swear. This time, I promise I’ll come back.”

As winter crested into spring again, Roberta was walking and had said her first word: “Daddy.”

You were still teaching at the facility, and had taken up the job permanently. Yenuno and Amai’s little girls were Roberta’s favorite playmates, though they had been warned to be careful, as Roberta developed more slowly than they did.

“Can we have another one? Please?” Maël asked one night as he watched gleefully as Roberta used her fat baby fists to shove raviolies in her mouth.

“Give me another year, but yes,” You replied.

“A year!” Maël whined. “That’s so long!”

“Don’t sass me,” You told him. “A year and no sooner. Besides, you still have more work to do. Did you get in touch with the Celtic Fae Council?”

“Yes, finally,” He replied, picking up his fork. “I didn’t realize how much red tape was involved. Genetic testing is underway. So far, there have been three men with similar blockages as mine. There are also a few women who were born missing one or both ovaries. We’re trying to trace back when this infertility spike started, but it could have been a millennium ago.” He laughed as Roberta threw a ravioli across the room. “I think she’s done, she’s just smashing them into her tray now.” He stood up and swept her up out of her seat, not even caring about the marinara stains on his shirt. “Come on, sweet pea, let’s take a bath. Eh? Eh, princess?”

He bounced her and she squealed.

You got up from your seat and came up behind him, circling him around the waist with your arms.

“You’re a good dad, honey,” You told him. “Roberta’s lucky. We both are. And so is our future children.”

He turned in your grip and kissed you. “If luck exists, you brought it with you. None of this would have happened without you. You are a miracle.”

You kissed him again and pushed him toward the bathroom. “She’s putting ravioli in your hair.”

He belly laughed and headed for the bathroom. You followed and marveled at how much had changed, wondering how it would change again. You looked forward to it.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider becoming a Patron or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

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frostsinth · 4 years

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Devaraj and his “personal hot water-bottle” Sera; a colored sketch for the ever lovely @ivymemnoch for her commissioned story “A Line in the Sand”. Hope to have part two up this week at some point!

Took me forever to figure out how two people would fit in a saddle together! Forgot how much I used to love drawing horses. Nur came out super soft looking; I meant for him to be a big, meaty draft... I guess he would be to a human. Devaraj makes him look normal sized.

Read more of my ramblings on my MasterList and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there! Want your own commission? Dm me for prices/wait times!

All the best!

#A Line in the Sand #Lizardman #lizard monster #reptile monster #dragonborn #scales #monster doodles #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster romance #slow burn #terato #exophilia #monster x human

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knifeewifee · 4 years

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Sailor moon Spinner commission for @ivymemnoch !!

Tag list:

@softforshigi @honeytama @theravencawsatmidnight @the-grimm-writer @luxivii @pinkjeanist @heroheads @uacrack @queensynderella @beauty-in-ferality @kittifer @thedreadthreadanomaly @hummusatune @whats-her-quirk

#bnha #bnha fanart #knifeewifee art #spinner #spinner bnha #spinner fanart #shuichi iguchi #shuichi iguchi fanart #bnha art #anime art #anime #sailor moon redraw #sailor moon cross over

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katnumdrum · 4 years

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THEY ARE LIVE!!! From Deeemeee on Etsy!

Spin’s pins are NOW AVAILABLE!!! Very limited quantities and ship sometime next week or so, there were some extras but they’ll be used for something else. Get your pack today before they’re gone!

https://www.etsy.com/listing/909945027/spinners-buttons-spins-pins?ref=shop_home_active_1

Tag list:

@yee-yee-bretherens @princeof-flowers @andromdouss @isolfrviradechtisbrother @vaurien--scapegrace @treesarenice314159 @librarybunny13 @spinaraki-on-main @ivymemnoch

#my hero academia #mha fanart #bnha fanart #boko no hero academia #shuichi iguchi #mha spinner #bnha spinner #spinner #boku no hero art #digital art #mha merch #bnha merch

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monstersandmaw · 5 years

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Male lizardfolk x female reader (nsfw) *Commission*

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

A commission for @ivymemnoch, featuring a nerdy lizardfolk boy (colouring/design based on a European green lizard) and a tall reader. This is the first of my five commissions to be completed and posted on here, and since it’s a paid commission, it doesn’t get early release on Patreon. Enjoy!

8144 words, no warnings, only fluff, some geekery, and some nsfw at the end. I will add though that I discovered that snakes aren’t the only reptiles to have two penises... lizards do too.

---

After a draining, all-day session in the recording studio, the last thing you wanted was to step out of the soundproofed booth and hear the relentless thrumming of raindrops on the windows.

The producer called over to you, briefly drawing your attention away from the foul weather, and grinned. “That was great! You really nailed her character. I think we can press on with the next section on Monday.” The sphinx smiled at you and stretched slightly before adding, “You have a good weekend now. Rest that voice of yours!”

You smiled and turned to look out of the nearest window with a grimace sliding onto your face. “Ugh. What a day to leave my umbrella behind,” you muttered. “Anyway, see you.”

Lingering just a moment more in the doorway of the recording studio, you eyed the rain and then - resigned to smelling like a wet werewolf - made a dash for it. Three seconds after you’d left the building, it doubled in strength and began to thrash down. Up ahead, still illuminated despite the fact that it was after five o’clock, was a shop you’d often thought about going in, but had never made time to venture inside. With an indignant squawk as the universe nudged you not-so-gently towards the comic book store by dripping water down your collar, you hurtled across the empty street, splashing through rapidly-forming puddles, and shot inside, soaked.

Standing on the mat for a moment, you shivered and gazed around at the room beyond. The walls were lined with bookshelves containing relatively ordinary looking books, and in the centre of the room was a lower stand displaying comics. On the top of this shelf, however, was a small army of figurines from a plethora of games and movies, and as you spotted a favourite of yours, you grinned. This place was nerd nirvana.

At the back of the room, surrounded as if in a shrine by a small alcove dedicated to arts and crafts and prop-making supplies for tabletop games, was the counter and cash register. The figure sitting behind it had looked up as you burst into his slice of peaceful heaven and the movement of his colourful head drew your eye over to him. Tall, slim but clearly muscular, with lime green skin speckled with gold and a wash of vibrant blue across his throat and up his cheeks towards friendly, golden eyes, the lizardfolk looking at you in mild surprise was frankly gorgeous.

You blinked stupidly for a second and then blurted, “I promise not to drip on any of the books.”

He grinned, a wide, warm smile that showed a row of pointed white teeth. “Appreciate it,” he said. His amber, unblinking gaze shifted to the rain and he said, “Gods, it’s really throwing it down out there.”

“Yup. I didn’t make it more than a hundred yards from work before bolting for cover. Nice place to duck into though,” you added, eyeing the figurines and graphic novels around you.

“You work near here?” he asked, setting down the tiny model he’d been painting. His clawed fingers were surprisingly slender and delicate.

You nodded. “Currently, at least. I’m a voice actor. The recording studio is just round the corner.”

“Sweet!” he exclaimed. “You voiced any characters I might know?”

You shrugged. “Maybe? I mean, Eliana from Ice Dragon Chronicles is probably the one I’m most known for? Mostly it’s just small parts for all sorts of things though. She was a rare break…”

“No way!” he breathed, “That’s awesome! Oh wow…” and he practically giggled with delight. His blue throat flushed a darker, more vibrant colour too. “That’s so cool. I’m sorry - you probably just wanted to browse in peace, or even just stay out of the rain. I’m sorry.”

Laughing softly, you said, “You know what? I’ve always wanted to check this place out, but I don’t really know where I’d start… I’ve read a few Manga, but I’d like to try a graphic novel…”

He stood, revealing just how tall he was. You were pretty tall yourself, for a human, but he stood easily a head higher than you. He blinked slowly and grinned, twitching his head towards the shelves along the walls. “Here’s one I always recommend to get people started. I warn you though, it’s a slippery slope… If you like this one, you’ll be obsessed in no time. I’m Bik, by the way.”

“I think I can handle it,” you smiled and he chuckled, handing you a slim but beautifully designed book with a dragon on the front and a female knight on a chestnut charger.

The art style was gorgeous and the writing seemed pretty good quality too, and as you leafed through the first few pages, you found yourself drawn in to the story about the female knight and the dragon. Finally you glanced up at him and said, “I’m assuming you don’t want me to read it all here right now…”

“It’d be nice if you bought it,” he grinned playfully.

He’d just reached out to take it from you when the door opened and a hunch-shouldered werewolf pushed inside, having just shaken the worst of the weather off on the doorstep all over their companion. The person behind her was a tiny, slender, and extraordinarily pretty young woman with pastel lilac hair that for some reason looked natural rather than dyed. Despite her almost innocent, childlike looks, she seemed decidedly furious about the soggy insult from the werewolf. In turn behind them came a figure who would have blotted out the daylight in the doorway had there been any to speak of outside.

You’d never met a hobgoblin before, and you tried not to stare as he lumbered in after the other two who had come to an abrupt halt at the sight of Bik and you standing together with your new graphic novel between you. The grin on the werewolf’s face made you think of feeding time at the zoo, and Bik clearly noticed it because his lithe tail swished a few times behind him in annoyance.

“Shall I take that for you?” Bik asked, offering his elegant hand again for the book and leading you over to the till so that you could pay for it.

You smiled and nodded, aware that the small group behind you were muttering between themselves. Bik was obviously aware of it as well, and seemed irritated by it, though you weren’t sure why. As you fished out the right money from your wallet, he muttered, “My D&D group… We meet every Friday. I’m sorry about them.”

“They seem nice,” you smiled, trying to reassure him. “You know, I’ve never played.”

“Really?” he asked, his golden eyes flashing brightly for an instant.

You shook your head and took the book from him, sliding it into your bag to keep it dry. “One thing at a time, eh?” you grinned before he could invite you to join in and he laughed.

“Hope to see you back again,” he added sheepishly. “There are some others I can recommend to you, whether you like that one or not.”

You nodded. He seemed so cute with the way he tilted his head and blinked his big eyes every now and again. His colouring was also astonishingly pretty, looking like a mosaic of gold and green all along his back, with that vibrant zing of blue around his throat. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” you said as you turned to go, and you really meant it.

While you were walking down the row of books towards the door, grateful that the rain seemed to have lessened considerably, you heard the werewolf dig her friend in the ribs and mutter, “Talk about your type!”

“Shut up,” Bik hissed. “Or she won’t come back.”

Of course, you did find yourself returning to his shop, though not on a Friday evening. You were sure his friends were nice, but you weren’t really there to meet them; at least, not just yet.

Bik’s face lit up when you stepped inside and he hopped down off the counter where he’d been sitting like a naughty schoolboy, swinging his legs and reading a comic which sat in his lap. “You came back!” he chirruped as he set it aside and came over. He wore tight-fitting jeans with a big hole tailored in the back for the thick root of his tail, and a blue t-shirt with a faded print on.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” you asked, aiming for playful but still coming across as a little shy, perhaps even coy. “You said you had more recommendations for me…”

“You liked it then?”

“Loved it! The twist at the end was amazing.”

His toothy grin made your stomach flip over and you glanced away as a blush rose up your cheeks.

You spent the next half an hour dissecting every detail about the first book he’d recommended, and from there, he chose three others that might suit.

Over the next few weeks, you returned to the shop regularly, and on one blustery August afternoon, you found him preparing some props for his next D&D session. Instead of talking books, you asked him about them, and he tilted his head in that adorable way he had, glancing over the half-finished figurines and what looked like a maquette of an old castle ruin or something.

“Did you make that too?” you asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah. It helps with the game, but honestly I just enjoy making stuff…”

“They’re beautiful! You could work in the props department at a film company or something.”

His blue throat became so vibrant in contrast with his lime green skin that it almost hurt to look at him, and he half turned away. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I get a lot of free time in the shop; fellow nerds aren’t too thick on the ground here, if you know what I mean. Hey, listen,” he added, scratching the back of his head with a clawed finger. “I’ve… uh… I’ve been wondering if maybe you’d like to come along to a session one day? You don’t have to take part or anything if you don’t want to, and we are, like, halfway through this campaign, but if you wanted to you could fill in for one of the NPCs or something… But… uh…” He trailed off, embarrassed and picked up one of the half-finished mimic chests on the counter top.

You watched as he turned it over in his delicate fingers and then chuckled. “You know what? I’d love to.”

At that, he dropped it and spun back around. “You’re serious?”

“Sure! Why not?” you asked, stooping to pick it up and handing it back to him. “Should I bring snacks?”

“Oh my god, could you get any more perfect!” he blurted and then laughed, staring down at the miniature mimic in his hands as if hoping that it might just eat him up on the spot. “Snacks would be amazing, but you don’t have to. Usually we take it in turns to bring something. It’s Oleander’s turn this Friday.”

“Oleander?”

“I don’t know if you remember her, but she’s the tiny one with the purple hair. She’s half fae and all sass. She bakes the most amazing sugar cookies though…”

“Got a sweet tooth then?” you asked and he nodded.

“Duly noted. Tell me about the others? Was the big one a hobgoblin?”

Bik nodded. “Yeah, that’s Jos. He’s kind of shy, but he’s great once you get to know him. He’s playing this tiny elven bard, and she’s -” he broke off, realising he was about to go off on a long and potentially quite boring waffle about their characters. Clearing his throat, he said instead, “Anyway, so yeah, that’s Jos. The werewolf is Emma. She’s… a bit brash and loud at times, but she means well.”

“How do you guys all know each other?” you asked, moving over to examine the figurines on the counter while he talked.

“From school, actually,” he laughed, setting the mimic back down. “It’s the typical - stereotypical I guess - thing of a bunch of rejects forming a bit of a ragtag band, and we’ve just been best mates ever since.”

With a fond smile, you firmly agreed to come to their next session.

You showed up with a bag of cookies, not wanting to seem tight but equally not wanting to try and one-up the resident baker in the group. You were also running a tad late after the recording session had run over, and the door was locked when you arrived at quarter past seven, and you had to bang on the glass repeatedly until Bik scuttled out to rescue you.

“I’m so sorry!” he said as he stepped to one side and let you in. “I thought I left it off the latch for you! I should also have given you my number. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine!” you laughed as he cringed. “But I wouldn’t say no to having your number…”

He went still and then smiled.

You followed him into a storage room at the back of the shop which had been decked out with flickering LED candles, and in the centre of the room was a round table set up for their game. They hadn’t really started yet, and Oleander was, to your surprise, sitting in Jos’ lap. He pecked her affectionately on the top of the head and picked her up, setting her back down on the ground. The werewolf, Emma, snuffed at the air and turned around, tail wagging from between the slats of her chair.

“Hey!” she grinned, leaping up and stepping over to hug you. “I’m sorry. I’m a hugger. You made it though! And…” and she sniffed ostentatiously, “And you brought goodies!”

“I couldn’t not bring goodies,” you chuckled, handing the modest bag of cookies to Bik.

“Tibikthio,” Emma said in a mock-formal tone to Bik, “You picked a good one.”

You turned slowly to the lizardfolk who had closed his eyes in semi-horror. “I hate it when you use my full name,” he groaned.

“Tibikthio…” you repeated. “I like it…”

You caught the tiniest flicker of something cross his face but it was gone a second later.

“Well he hates it!” Emma barked. “Come on, pull up a chair.” She adopted a silly accent, like some old crone, and added, “There’s plenty of room, m’dear!”

Smiling, you glanced at Bik, who still looked a bit embarrassed about the whole name thing, and then you settled in between him and Emma as the game began.

To start with, you stayed on the periphery, letting them tell their story and act it out. Some of them would have made good voice actors, though Oleander tried a bit too hard in places. But they were having an absolute blast. Bik was the dungeon master, weaving elements of improv and story-crafting seamlessly into one narrative, though there were some gaffes and hilarious moments when it all fell apart. By the end of the session, you had cried tears of laughter until your stomach hurt, and had had your heart in your mouth for the entirety of one fight in a long-lost temple.

It was past ten when they wrapped up, and Bik insisted that they just leave everything there for next time. “It’s late,” he said, “And who wants to tidy up now anyway…?” He was met with a chorus of nods and yawns.

Your stomach growled though as you stood and you felt a bit light-headed.

“You ok?” Bik asked, head tilting quizzically. “You look a bit squiffy… Didn’t make you queasy with all the guts and goop at the end of the fight, did I?”

Reassuring him, you told him you had just missed supper that night because of work, and he looked horrified. “There’s a place round the corner that’s open til midnight. You want to grab something?”

Your initial reaction was to refuse politely and say you’d rustle something up when you got home, but you happened to catch Oleander’s violet eyes as she looked from Bik to you with what could only have been described as a look of hope on her face, so you took a gamble and nodded. “Sure, I’d like that.”

Bik shut up the shop and bid his friends goodnight. Oleander winked at him but offered no comment before demanding that Jos carry her home, which he dutifully did. Bik caught you looking at them and smiled. “They’ve been together since they were sixteen. Real high school sweethearts.”

“They’re adorable,” you offered. “I mean, they’re kind of polar opposites, but… it’s nice.”

“There’s hope for those of us who tend to prefer other species…” Bik muttered playfully. “Come on, it’s not far.” As you walked along the empty street, he asked, “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” you replied honestly. “I had no idea it was so…” you waved your hand while you searched for exactly the right word.

“Nerdy?”

You snorted a laugh and corrected him. “Complicated… involved… complex…”

He shrugged casually and shivered. “It’s what you make of it, I guess. We’ve been plotting this particular campaign for months. It’s nice to be able to play it finally!” He shivered again and hugged his bare arms around himself, claws scratching slightly on his rough skin.

“Are you cold?”

He nodded. “I forgot my jacket. I’m not very good with the cold. It’s a lizardy thing.”

The evening wasn’t particularly chilly, but you supposed he was cold-blooded.

“You want my jacket?” you asked. “I think your shoulders are slim enough that it’d probably fit you.”

He shot you an odd look. “Isn't the guy supposed to be the one to offer that to the girl?”

“Only if you stick to stuffy old gender roles,” you grinned. “You want it or not?”

“Yes please,” he mumbled and took it off you with a grateful smile. He looked odd wearing it, but he burrowed into it for the remainder of the short walk to the late-night restaurant.

The two of you sat down and chatted, and you remarked on just how relaxed it felt.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s… It’s nice. I’m glad you got rained on all those weeks ago…”

“Me too,” you laughed. He was a dork, but you liked that he felt genuine, and that his sense of humour was a bit off the wall.

The restaurant wasn’t fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but the food they served looked amazing. Run by a big Highland minotaur with a massive belly and a hearty laugh, it offered exactly the kind of meal you needed after not having had much all day, and the two of you took a seat in a quiet corner on some comfortable, diner-style benches.

The lizardfolk who took your order reminded you of a gecko, and had pinkish colouring and large, blue eyes. While you had always been drawn to lizardfolk, somehow no one seemed to compare to Bik lately.

While you waited for your food, Bik interrupted your musing and asked, “What made you get into voice acting? Maybe next time you can voice some of the other characters they meet…?”

“I think I’d like that,” you admitted. “Normally everyone just asks me to do impressions of famous people, you know, because I have an ear for accents and all that.”

He smiled and rested his chin in his hands, staring at you unblinkingly. It might have made anyone else seem a bit intense, but with him it just seemed endearing. As much as he loved to tell a story, he seemed just as happy to listen to one too.

“Honestly, I kind of fell into it. I did music and drama at college and was all set to go down the ‘traditional’ acting line, but I found I was more comfortable bringing characters to life with my voice than my entire body. It’s still really hard work though. Most people reckon that if you can do a few accents or a funny voice, that’s it, but it’s so much more than that.”

He nodded in agreement. “Oh absolutely! I mean, I think I gathered as much just from what we do in our little amateur group. We all sit round a table and we say our ‘lines’, and we all bring our characters to life as convincingly as we can. We’ve been doing it for years, but we’re still not very good!” Bik grinned at you, showing all his teeth, and you smiled back. A moment later he added, a bit dreamily, “I still can’t believe you voiced Eliana. She’s one of my favourite characters ever! I love that game. I wish she’d been a playable character…”

You laughed, honestly a bit bashful.

Before it could become awkward, your food arrived and the two of you chatted some more around mouthfuls of delicious, humble, homely food until you thought you were going to burst.

“Oh man,” you groaned, sitting back in your seat. “I won’t need to eat for a week!”

Bik smiled and said, “I actually probably won’t eat for a week.”

“Wow, that’s…”

“Economically beneficial?” he snickered. “True. I’d rather be like that than like Jos. He has to eat six meals a day just to fuel his body.” He leaned on the table and added in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “And you know what? Oleander eats just as much as he does.”

“No way!” you gasped. “But she’s tiny! How does she do it?”

“She’s half Fae,” he said. “There’s probably magic involved.”

“Lucky her,” you muttered. “Though on second thoughts, grubbing up six meals a day sounds like a lot of effort. But seriously though, I am so full.”

The minotaur who owned the place came out at that moment and said in a heavily accented rumble, “Ach, too bad! I was gonna offer you’s some dessert!” He waggled a pair of menus at you hopefully.

“We’ll just have to come back next week,” you said and the minotaur laughed heartily.

Bik seemed sleepy after the heavy meal, but he walked you back to your place and you exchanged an awkward hug on the threshold. You got the sense that it wasn’t just you who wished it had been more, but neither of you was ready to make that leap just yet.

That first Friday was the first of many trips to the shop to watch them play D&D together, and after only a few weeks, you began to join in more activelyn. And so you found yourself lending your vocal cords to street merchants and beggars, high nobles and sea captains as the unlikely group made their way across their fictional land. The tables had turned a bit, and now it was you who made them helpless with laughter, even mimicking Oleander’s very particular speech patterns when the group ran into a mimic.

“That’s amazing!” she said. “Are you sure you’re not Fae?”

“No,” you said, “I mean, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I’m very ordinary…”

“You’re not ordinary at all!” Bik blurted and everyone burst out laughing.

“We all know that Bik’s got the hots for you!” Emma grinned.

Oleander chimed in with, “Well, as much as a cold-blooder can have the ‘hots’ for anyone…”

“Oi,” Bik grunted. “I’m sitting right here you know!”

“Better speak up more often,” Oleander teased playfully, chucking him affectionately under the chin like he was a favourite hunting hound or something, “Or she won’t notice you…”

“I’m going to write you all into a jail cell next week,” the dungeon master grumped. “Then you’ll be sorry.”

After that session, he claimed he was tired and begged off going to supper with you. Of course you said it was fine, but you had grown used to your private suppers together and fought off the lump of disappointment that lodged itself unexpectedly in your throat. He waved and slouched off down the street, leaving the rest of you outside the dark and empty shop.

“I think you went a little far this time,” Jos commented in his deep, gravelly voice to the two girls and they sighed. “He’s always been very sensitive about… you know, ‘matters of the heart’…”

“Yeah. Poor thing,” Oleander said and she looked at you with her large purple eyes. “The more he likes someone, the more awkward he can get. I’m sorry we butchered it tonight for you though. I’ll make it up to you. Fae’s honour.” After a pause, she added, “You do like him, right?”

“Very much,” you admitted quietly. “He’s very gentle. It’s nice.”

“He used to play lacrosse back in high school,” Jos grinned. “He wasn’t gentle then! But he’s sweet when it comes to people he cares about. He looked out for me at school.”

You shot him a surprised look and he laughed. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “You just don’t look much like the type who needs anyone to look out for them…”

Oleander patted his colossal forearm and cooed, “Ol’ Jos here wouldn’t say boo to a housefly, would you darling?” He smiled affectionately at her and said nothing. “We’ve always been the outcasts and misfits I guess. Bik’s the most normal one of the lot of us, all things considered.”

Emma announced with a sudden curse that she was running late to meet her girlfriend, and loped off into the night on all fours with an accompanying farewell howl, her backpack bouncing around on her shoulders, and Oleander and Jos bid you goodnight and headed off towards the bus stop, leaving you to make your own way back. It was strange not to have Bik by your side that night, and it made you realise how close you’d become to him over the last few weeks.

Back home, you curled up on the sofa, not ready to start thinking about bed just yet, and had just got your phone out to drop him a text when your message tone chimed at you. The way your heart clenched with excitement at the sight of Bik’s name on the notification made you pause a moment and wonder just what this affection for him was turning into. Images of his bright green skin and golden eyes darted across your mind; the sound of his laugh, the way his tail coiled itself off the ground when he walked, the way his clawed hands held the little props he liked to make… You’d been telling the truth when you’d admitted to Oleander just how much you liked him.

‘Hey’, his text began. ‘Sorry I bailed like that. Did you get home ok?’

‘:) yeah,’ you replied. ‘And it’s fine. I get it, but they meant well. And I’m looking forward to the next session already!”

Jos was the one who finally insisted that you had to become a permanent member of their fictional gang. Casting a look at Bik as you all loitered in the main shop after the session, you saw the way he bit his thin lips and coiled his tail around one ankle. “Should I?” you asked.

You’d grown in confidence around them, glad to have been welcomed into their group, and he nodded mutely.

“That doesn’t seem very enthusiastic…” you shot with tongue-in-cheek humour dancing in your eyes.

“Obviously he’d love that,” Emma said. That day she wasn’t in her wolf form, and it was one of the few times you’d ever seen her as such. She had ash blonde hair with a harsh side-shave above her left ear while the rest was long, tied back in a ponytail. Her body was strong and muscular, and honestly she was utterly gorgeous.

You cocked an eyebrow at him and adopted the tone of one of the temple guardians you’d voiced for them earlier that evening. “Come now,” you said with mock sternness, “Speak the truth, young dragonling…”

Bik immediately caught on and followed the joke as he spoke in the voice of his dragonborn bard, quavering and simpering. “Please… oh Great One, don’t make me speak more on the subject… I’m only a worthless wyrm…”

You closed the short distance between the two of you and leaned in close. His jaw slackened slightly, his throat bobbing, and his beady, amber eye locked onto your face. “You are no such thing,” you smiled. Biko’s throat worked nervously. Drawing back, you added, “And I’d love to join the group. You’ll have to help me think of a character.”

Bik still looked like he’d suffered a minor heart attack, but Jos whooped and Oleander giggled. “Great!” they said as one.

You turned to Bik and said, “Maybe you and I can chat it over after dinner, if you’re still up for our usual post-session snack?”

“Definitely,” he croaked, voice sounding thick and slightly awestruck. He looked a bit stunned, but you decided it was in a good way.

He held the door open for you and you stepped close to him as you headed out into the late evening, pressing a hand flat against his chest as you passed, and murmured, “Thanks.”

He recovered quickly, though he did seem to be concentrating very hard on the task of locking up the shop, and as the two of you walked away from the others, he kept glancing down at you.

“What?” you finally asked with a giggle.

“Nothing.”

“It’s clearly something…” you pressed, turning and walking backwards so you could look at his face. “Regretting your decision to let me join the gang?”

“Not at all!” he replied, apparently horrified that your thoughts had gone there. “No… The opposite actually…”

“Oh,” you sighed.

He breathed your name and then stopped. You drew to a halt as well, watching him with a hammering heart. Starting to talk again seemed tricky, but he managed it. “I… Uh… I’m really glad you’re… you know… around… Ah, shit… I’m so bad at this…”

“I’m glad I’m around too,” you said, and you slid your hand into his. His skin was rough and cool, and your first thought was that you would very much like it against other parts of your body.

Bik tightened his grip on your fingers briefly and let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “I’ve never, uh… courted a human before… Is that even the right term for it?”

“You can call it what you like,” you said. “And you don’t have to do anything special or different. Just… keep hanging out with me. Maybe we could watch a movie or something some time?”

“Ok,” he said, swallowing thickly again. “Let’s go somewhere different for dinner?”

You turned your eyes from his to the restaurant sign just up ahead. “But we always go here,” you said. “And we’re almost there… Where else is going to be open at this time of night?”

“You could… come back to my place?” he asked. “I mean, it’s nothing special, but… I’m a tidy reptile, I promise! No hoards of strange things either. I’m not a dragon…”

You had to laugh at his oddball sense of humour that only got quirkier the more apprehensive he got. He also couldn’t stop his throat from fanning slightly too, the reptilian version of sweating nervously you supposed. “Alight. I’d like that.”

The upper storey of the old house where he lived was open plan, with beautiful bare rafters and sloping ceilings, and hardwood floors. His claws clacked adorably on them when he moved about. He also had the heating on stupendously warm, and you took your coat and jumper off immediately. “Sorry,” he said when he saw what you were doing.

You reassured him, and started to look about a little bit while he busied himself in the kitchen and poured you both a drink.

There were bookshelves on practically every available space, and as well as containing a collection of rare first editions and hard-to-come-by novels, they also sported photos, some in battered frames and others just propped up here and there. Most of them featured lizardfolk who looked a lot like him. “Family?” you asked and he came over to stand beside you.

“Yeah. We were a big clutch,” he said as he held the glass out for you. “Poor mum! There are twelve of us.”

He told you the names of each of his siblings, and what they were up to now, but you were really only half listening to the words. There was something magical about his voice, some unearthly quality it took on when he began to tell a story, regardless whether that was a story about his own life or a fantasy tale made up with his friends.

“What?” he asked softly.

“I… I like the sound of your voice,” you said honestly, and you reached your fingers tentatively up to touch the blue of his throat. He drew in a shaky breath, eyes closing as his reptilian head tilted upwards to allow you better access to him. “You’re very beautiful,” you whispered. “The colour of your skin is incredible… I like this bit too,” you added, running a finger down his cheek where it blended from green speckled with gold to intense blue.

Bik brought his hands to your shoulders and looked down at you, blinking slowly. “Really?” he asked. “It’s not very… I mean… most males of my species have much deeper blue… I mean, just look at my brothers,” he added awkwardly, nodding at a picture behind you.

“I like your blue,” you chuckled without turning around.

Embarrassed, but obviously deeply flattered, he brushed his knuckle against your cheek and said, “Would you like that supper or do you have other things on your mind?”

With a grin, you said, “I suppose I could be distracted by food…” you admitted grudgingly as your stomach rumbled.

You watched him walk away to the kitchen area of the loft apartment, and sighed. This was turning into exactly what you’d hoped it might - a friendship blossoming into something deeper.

Wanting to test that theory, you crossed to join him and, while he still had his back to you, you slid your arms around his slender waist and hugged him. “You need a hand?” you asked, pressing your cheek against his back.

“I… I was going to suggest takeout,” he said bashfully, glancing back over his shoulder at you. “But if you want me to cook, I can?”

You shook your head. “It’s getting late,” you said, releasing him. “Another time. Let’s get takeout.”

While you waited for the food to arrive, you bickered playfully over movie choices, finally settling on some cheesy old film about a dragon who shared his heart with a selfish boy. It was actually pretty good, but it was still horrendously dated in places. It didn’t matter to you though. The food was really good, and the two of you snuggled up on the sofa to eat, with you leaning against his side.

“I couldn’t do this with many people,” you said, nudging him gently with your elbow.

“Do what?”

“Cosy up under someone’s arm. I’m usually too tall.”

He chuckled and swallowed. “Never dated an orc then, I take it.”

You shook your head. “Not dated all that much at all to be honest.”

“What? But your gorgeous,” he blurted and his skin flushed a much darker green. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you said and put your hand reassuringly on his thigh. He jumped and then slid his arm around your shoulders, setting his empty takeout box down on the coffee table beside the sofa.

He gazed at you, a more serious look in his eyes, and said, “You know, I couldn’t help noticing your choices of media…” You flicked him a frown and he went on. “Ok, the first graphic novel with the dragon was on me, but everything else has also had dragons or lizards in…”

“You detecting a preference here?” you sassed gently.

“Am I?”

With an ostentatious roll of your eyes, you said, “I mean, I’ve always thought your kind extremely beautiful, but my interest in you is to do with you. It’s not some empty kink. You know that, right?”

He nodded slowly. “Just checking.”

“And what about you?” you said, also setting your empty food box down and shifting your position so that you came to rest astride his lap, the film almost over, forgotten and playing in the background. “I have to admit that your dragonborn seems to like humans rather a lot… Have you got a thing for us warmbloods?”

His throat worked and he didn’t meet your eye for a moment. “I mean… yes…” he said, and his clawed hands found your wide hips. He ran a circle carefully over them and moaned, his own hips shifting a little beneath you. “But when you walked into my shop, all bedraggled and soaking wet, I’d honestly never seen anyone more beautiful in my whole life.”

You laughed and kissed his cheek. He turned his head slightly as you moved away and drew you back for a proper kiss. His claws raked gently through your hair, messing it up as he gripped you firmly but tenderly, and his tongue slid slowly out to taste you, savouring the kiss. It wasn’t a conventional kiss like those you were used to, but it worked perfectly well. You rolled your hips against him once again and he broke the contact, letting his head fall back against the sofa cushions. His tail coiled and uncoiled beside you on the sofa and you reached for it.

“Can I touch you here?” you asked and he nodded breathlessly.

He gasped as you stroked your fingertips along the slightly rough skin of his tail and he brought the tip of it up to caress the back of your hand.

“Kinky,” you grinned and he snickered.

Bik, somewhat slack-jawed and clearly aroused, brought his blunt muzzle to the curve where your neck met your collarbones, and inhaled the scent of you deeply. His tail coiled tightly around your wrist for a moment before unravelling and falling limply onto the sofa again. “I want you,” he rasped.

You let your hips grind into him again and he gasped and uttered a soft curse under his breath as he stared almost reverently up at you. You nodded, and his claws hooked the hem of your top and lifted it up carefully, revealing your bra and he made short work of the clasp. Taking the weight of each breast in his hands, he caressed you and then, with pupils blown wide and dark so that his irises were a mere halo of gold, he took your nipple delicately between his sharp teeth and very gently sucked, moaning softly as he repeated the gesture on the other one. His rasping tongue curled around them too as they hardened under his attentions and you gave a shaky exhale.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he let go, leaving you throbbing and tingling. “Gods, you’re so beautiful.”

“Bik…” you groaned when he stopped touching you so that he could simply stare at your half-naked body in his lap.

He smiled and to your immense surprise, simply stood up, hooking his arms under your thighs as you gripped his waist instinctively with your legs. He was a lot stronger than he looked and you nearly yelped in surprise. “I’ve got you,” he said as he carried you towards his open bedroom door, nudging it shut behind him with his tail.

He laid you down on top of the duvet and undressed the rest of you slowly, savouring the sight of you as he gradually revealed your body. You looked up at him dazedly and saw the tent straining against his jeans. “Bik… Not fair,” you said. “You’re still dressed.”

More nervously now that the attention was on him, he took off his own t-shirt to reveal a pale, creamy green stomach and chest. He was still stippled with other hues of green and even a few freckles of black, but his front was mostly pale. His lean waist and narrow hips looked deliciously inviting and you sat up and ran your fingers around the inside of his waistband just to watch him shiver beneath your touch.

His hands hung quietly by his sides as you undid the button of his jeans and he stepped out of them carefully. His taloned feet were as delicate as his hands, and you marvelled at them too before letting your gaze sweep up his slim, strong calves to his thicker and more muscular thighs and to the tight, black boxer-briefs that hugged every single curve of his body.

Bik lay down beside you without taking them off and raked his claws up the length of your legs and, applying a little pressure to your hip, pushed you onto your back. With his tail, he tugged your right ankle close to his body and parted your legs enough for him to run the pad of his thumb in a slow, teasing circle around the soft, sensitive skin above your clit.

Your body lurched joyously at his touch and you sucked in a breath. You began to tingle all over, heat prickling beneath your skin as he woke your whole body up with reverent kisses and touches.

“Can I taste you?” he asked a while later after he’d reduced you to a writhing, whimpering mess, and you nodded.

After you moved further up the bed to give him more room, he reverently placed both palms on your hip bones and nosed gently at your sex. His tongue licked a long, slow stripe and you cried out and arched your back as he laved over your lips and just flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“You taste so beautiful,” he said before returning his attention to your body. He circled and nudged at you, dipping his tongue deep inside you as well, always coming back to your clit until you were almost screaming with want.

“Bik, please… Please make me come,” you panted. “I’m so close…”

“Can humans only come once then?” he asked with over-accentuated ignorance, and you knew from the tone of his voice that he knew the answer to that already. You growled inarticulately at him and he pulled back. “I’d better stop then.”

“No!” you half sobbed. “Please…”

Smiling softly, he stared at you and moved his thumb back to your swollen clit. His claws were too sharp for him to work you inside, but the pattern he made on your skin with his tongue was enough to drive you right to the edge, and then as the white heat built inside you, you felt your orgasm rolling over you like a great ocean breaker and you cried out, grasping at the sheets. As you came, he pressed his tongue hard against you, savouring you as you came against him.

When you eventually slumped back against the pillows, breathing hard and almost dizzy with how good you felt, you half opened one eye to find that he had lain down on his back and was palming his erection through the fabric of his boxers.

“Bik?” you asked in a slightly slurred whisper. Your fingers moved to the waistband and he tensed slightly. “Bik?”

Licking his lips nervously, he nodded and you drew his boxers off. At the top of his legs was a mounded sheath which quite obviously contained not one but two cocks. Neither was necessarily all that large, but they were very beautiful, and fully erect.

“We’re not exactly built like humans,” he said bashfully as you stared openly at him. “I… I was worried that -” he cut off with a deep grunt as you trailed your fingers around the edges of his sheath. His twin cocks - both a bright vibrant green tipped with blue - writhed slightly, coiling around one another and glistening with the same clear fluid that slicked his sheath.

“You’re beautiful, remember?” you reminded him, shakily propping yourself upright on one elbow to get a better look at him. You repeated the gesture, running your fingers tips around his sensitive sheath, and he accepted your words as truth as you started to worship him with the same careful tenderness he’d just shown you.

As you lavished attention on him, he started to unravel.

Soon his spine bowed up off the bed and his hips squirmed as you worked his twin cocks in one hand. The tighter you gripped him, the more noise he made as they twisted together beneath your fingers, and you finally wrung a deep, guttural, low-frequency rumble out of him that reminded you more of an alligator than the more delicate lizards he resembled.

“Gods,” he rasped, “You make it feel like spring…” and you knew he was referring to the traditional lizardfolk mating season. You’d just lowered your mouth to the tip of one of his cocks and given it a tentative suck when he blurted, “Can I come inside you?”

You nodded, and he switched positions with you so that he was on top. The heat of his cocks was a delicious contrast to the constant coolness of the rest of him and you bucked upwards against him just to feel them pressing against your sensitive clit.

“Both?” he asked warily and you nodded again, shifting so that he could line himself up. He kissed down your neck and between your breasts again before he nudged the tips of his cocks to your entrance. As he slid into you, slowly stretching you full, you watched his face carefully. Again, he began to rumble softly and he almost couldn’t speak as he hissed, “So tight… so hot… gods, you’re so hot…”

With a final push of his hips, he slid all the way inside you and paused a moment, clearly fighting the instinct to come almost immediately. Recovered, breathing steadily, he began to slide in and out, his rhythm increasing in tempo as he lost himself in the sensations of your body. The way his cocks felt inside you, twisting together and shifting in a way that no toy could ever hope to replicate, was unlike anything you’d ever experienced and you knew you were going to come again in no time.

“I’m…” he grunted.

“Me too,” you said, grabbing his rough-skinned arms and pulling yourself even further onto his cocks. “Bik, I’m going to come again.”

“Fuck,” he croaked as you clenched tight around him with a cry.

You wrenched his orgasm from him with the force of your own and he arched his spine, hips driving him deep inside you as he released, and he yelled out, voice hoarse, the sound cracked and broken. His jaws parted to reveal his sharp teeth and you kept your grip on his arms as you came a second time.

He shuddered violently, grunting and breathing hard through flared nostrils, and then fell forwards, barely catching himself in time on his forearms. He was spent and exhausted and so beautiful. His blue colouring shone in the dim light of his bedroom and you trailed your fingers lazily along the bridge of his nose towards his lips.

“That was incredible,” he whispered when he’d got his breath back. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No,” you smiled and he hugged you briefly, lapping a little lizardy kiss on your forehead before pushing himself up on shaking arms and sliding free of you. His cocks coiled briefly in the warm air and he rolled onto his back beside you. With your thighs still slick with his release, you tucked yourself up beside him and took your time in exploring his relaxed body. Where before he had been tense, almost nervous, worried that his non-human body would be too strange for you, now he seemed to have fallen peacefully into a haze of bliss, and he let your hands roam all over his torso and down to his hips while wearing a soft smile the whole time.

His cocks lay soft across his skin, occasionally twitching and drooling a little, but eventually they began to shift back into his sheath. He slid his hand down and adjusted them, and shot you a look. “You really do like lizardfolk, huh?”

With a wry grin, you shook your head and said, “I really do just like you.”

—

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crazycat-88 · 5 years

Text

Male Half Dragonborn/Half Tiefling Folke x Female Reader

Story commissioned by the lovely @ivymemnoch, who won the ‘follower milestone lottery’ I posted at the beginning of November.

Features: One cocky but sweet Dom! male monster & one sassy Sub! female reader.

Content: Light Dom/Sub, Tender after care, Cursing, & Explicit content (NSFW)

Words: 4,511

When you’d gotten a new job three months previously as a fitness instructor teaching workout classes to large groups of people at Novak’s Gym and Spa, it was a dream come true. Previously you had worked at a pokey little gym that smelled of sweaty feet and your class sizes had been abysmal. Now working at the hottest gym in the city, you had up to twenty-five and always over fifteen people taking your classes.

The gym itself is classy, high tech, sparkling clean and owned by a wealthy orc who didn’t believe in over charging, which meant you had a real range of clientele from all walks of life, which was really nice. The staff were fantastic too, everyone was friendly and welcoming, often getting together outside of work for drinks or a meal.

Your favourite member of staff however had to be Folke, a half tiefling, half dragonborn, personal trainer, that you had developed more than just a little crush on. He looked impressive, with his lean figure and muscular arms, but it was the mix of dragonborn and tiefling features he had that you really find attractive.

From the neck down he looked more like a dragonborn, sporting burnt orange and creamy coloured scales and a thick tail. His feet were shaped like a tieflings though and his claws weren’t as long or as sharp as a dragonborns. Facially however he looked more like a tiefling, with a nose and lips instead of a snout. He had two pointy ears that sat below two long curved horns. In the middle of which he also had two shorter horns that sat pointing straight up.

It wasn’t just his looks that you are attracted to either. He has a great personality, confident, sometimes borderlining on the cocky side, but when you gave back as good as you got, he often becomes bashful which you find really intriguing.

You thought the attraction was mutual and while he was constantly flirting with you, he hasn't asked you out. First you wondered if he just doesn’t want to cross that boundary as you work together but then you wondered if perhaps you’re just not his type. While you are proud of your figure, working hard to achieve a toned and slightly muscular physique you knew that it wasn’t everyone’s type. You were also naturally tall and slender with a small bust, again not a figure all males desired. Folke did seem to really like your ass though, which was a bonus.

Folke or no Folke, you loved your job and always made sure to get in early to prepare for your first class. It was on one such morning, when you were in the studio doing your stretches, that you heard footsteps approaching from behind you.

‘‘Has anyone ever told you that you have a great ass?’’

You're bent over touching your toes, stretching, when you hear the question come from behind you, and you smile. Folke. He always has such convenient timing.

‘‘Yeah. You. Last week and the week before that,’’ you reply, continuing to stretch.

‘‘Oh yeah I keep forgetting,’’ he says chuckling.

‘‘Maybe you should see a doctor…’’ you say as you straighten up to stand, before looking at him with a smirk. ‘‘Get that little brain of yours checked over.’’

‘‘Trust me love there's nothing little about me.’’

‘‘Oh I don’t know…’’ you say looking him over, still smirking. ‘‘You have two little horns and two cute little ears.’’

He looks away bashfully, his creamy coloured cheeks darkening before he chuckles lowly.

‘‘I have to go meet a client… Some of us actually have work to do you know,’’ he says as he walks out of the studio, his tail lazily swaying in the air as he goes.

‘‘Sure, if you can call what you do work,’’ you say laughingly, watching him leave. One of these days you were really going to have to grab the bull by the horns and ask him out you think, going back to doing your stretches in preparation for your class.

You don’t see Folke for the rest of the day and your wiped out by the time your last class is over. Remembering your promise to go shopping for your elderly neighbour before returning home, you decide a shower is in order before you go. Heading towards the staff room, you remove the band from your hair, releasing it from the tight bun you wear it in for work and run your fingers through it with a sigh of relief. Suddenly spotting Folke sitting at a table watching you with wide eyes, you raise your brow at him in question.

‘‘What?’’ You ask. ‘‘Do I have something on my face?’’

‘‘No, sorry,’’ he says. ‘‘I just… always forget how long your hair is. You always wear it up.’’

‘‘Well yeah, it’s more practical,’’ you say. Your long chestnut coloured hair was probably one of your best features but it wasn’t practical to wear it down at work. ‘‘You should know,’’ you add, gesturing to his own long hair. His brown hair reached passed his shoulders so it wasn’t as long as yours but still not practical for work and he always wore it up too.

Folke nods agreeing but he still eyes your hair with interest. ‘‘Is that you done for the day?’’ He asks.

‘‘Yeah, I’m just going for a quick shower before I leave,’’ you say, grabbing your bag and heading for the door.

‘‘Give me a shout if you want your back scrubbed,’’ he says, chuckling as you walk out the door.

‘‘If only you would,’’ you say under your breath, as you head to the shower room.

The following day you find Folke lingering outside the studio room as you get in to work. He’s standing with his arms crossed blocking the door and his golden eyes brighten when he spots you approaching. Was he waiting for you, you think, feeling delighted at the prospect.

‘‘Good morning,’’ he says.

‘‘Morning…’’ you reply. ‘‘Are you loitering for a purpose?’’ you ask as you look him over with a smirk. He’s not wearing a top this morning, leaving his creamy coloured chest exposed and he flexes as you eye him. He grins in response to your question and instead of answering, he scans your t-shirt with interest.

‘‘You like Heathenspawn?’’

You blink at him in confusion before looking down to see you had thrown on a t-shirt that had the band's name on it. ‘‘Oh. Yeah. They’re one of my favourites.’’

‘‘Mine too,’’ he says with his tail wagging excitedly. ‘‘I can’t wait to go see them tomorrow night.’’

‘‘Wait what?’’ You ask startled.

‘‘Didn’t you know they are touring?’’

‘‘Well yeah but I didn’t realise they were playing locally,’’ you say frowning. Damn. They would definitely be sold out by now.

‘‘Yeah just the one show tomorrow night,’’ he says before smirking. ‘‘I’ve got a spare ticket if you want to come with me?’’

‘‘Seriously?’’ You ask, your voice pitching higher in excitement. ‘‘I’d love too.’’

‘‘Great, it’s a date then,’’ he says smirking as he straightens up. ‘‘I’ll meet you outside the concert hall?’’ He asks questioningly as he starts backing away.

‘‘Sounds like a plan,’’ you say, smiling widely.

‘‘Oh and wear your hair down,’’ he says, before winking and disappearing around the corner.

You wait until you’re in the studio with the door closed behind you before squealing and doing a little dance. Not only were you going to see your favourite band but Folke had finally asked you out. You spend the rest of the day on a high and even the people that take your classes can tell you're extra energetic today. You’re even more elated when you discover Folke has left you note by your bag with his number on it.

You wake up the next day full of excitement. Fortunately you don’t have work so you spend the day preparing for your date, going for a bath, putting on a face mask, painting your nails and shaving. In between you text back and forth with Folke, confirming times and place to meet for tonight.

When you arrive in front of the concert hall, you look around trying to spot Folke in the large crowd, fortunately his height and colouring is distinctive and you find him easily. He’s looks nice tonight, you’re not used to seeing him in jeans though and you have to do a double take when you notice how well they hug his ass. He’s got his hair down too and you ache to run your fingers through it.

‘‘Hey,’’ he says greeting you. ‘‘You look nice.’’

‘‘Thanks. You don’t look to bad yourself,’’ you say with a smirk. It was cold so you had opted to wear your black jeans with heels and another one of the bands t-shirts you had, that was a tighter fit and you knew complimented your figure. Folke sure seems like he appreciates it as he scans you.

‘‘Shall we go in?’’ He asks.

Nodding, you take his arm as you push through the crowd and into the concert hall. You can feel his scales against your arm and can’t resist running your fingers along them. He smiles but remains silent as he gets the tickets out to show at the door. Eventually you get into the hall and find yourselves a good position near the front in order to see the band on stage.

The band are fantastic, even better live than you expected and you and Folke both enjoy the music, dancing amongst the screaming crowd. When they finish the last song and leave the stage, the crowd screams more, more, more. As they return to the stage and announce one more song, the crowd goes wild and you find yourself jostled and shoved. Folke grabs you in close to his side and wraps his tail around your waist. You look up at him with a soft smile and he grins before burying his nose in your hair.

As soon as the bands done, you both make your way to the shop that sells the bands merchandise, along with sweet treats and drinks. Standing at the counter with another of the bands t-shirts and a CD, waiting to be served, you hear Folke exclaim.

‘‘They have candy floss.’’

‘‘Yeah they do,’’ you say giggling at his excitement.

You feel his tail tighten where it still sits around your waist and he asks if you want some but you shake your head in the negative. You smile when he gets a stick of candy floss for himself, along with the bands merchandise he’s decided to purchase, not surprised. Leaving the concert hall, you walk silently down the street for awhile, embracing the quiet when you move away from the crowds of folk also making their way home.

‘‘Did you a good time tonight?’’ Folke asks eventually.

‘‘I did... The band was awesome,’’ you say, distracted by the sight of him licking candy floss from his fingers. ‘‘Thank you for inviting me,’’ you add after minute.

‘‘You're welcome. Honestly I’ve been wanting to ask you out for awhile now.’’

‘‘Really?’’

‘‘Yeah…’’ he says chuckling. ‘‘I just wanted to make sure you liked me first before I did.’’

‘‘Who said I liked you,’’ you say smirking. ‘‘Maybe I just think you’re pretty.’’

His cheeks darken as he eyes his dwindling stick of candy floss before glancing back up at you and shaking his head. ‘‘That’s disappointing and here I thought you might want to come back to mine, but… if you don’t like me?’’

‘‘Oh I’ll come alright,’’ you say slyly.

He eyes you for a moment clearly thinking before he smirks. ‘‘Here I thought you were a good girl but clearly I was wrong,’’ he says shaking his head with a tsk. ‘‘I should take you over my knee and spank that ass of yours.’’

‘‘Is that a promise?’’ You ask, your breath hitching. He laughs, and throws the now finished stick away in a bin you pass before taking your hand.

‘‘You’d enjoy that too much, it wouldn’t be a suitable punishment,’’ he says shaking his head in mock disappointment. When you only huff in response, he eyes you seriously. ‘‘Do you want to come back to mine?’’

You smile nodding and let him lead you back to his apartment exchanging banter the whole way. You think you have him figured out and hope you won’t be severely disappointed. You’ve met men before who seemed like they would take charge in the bedroom only to be sorely disappointed when you discovered they would rather have you dominate.

When you get to his place, he unlocks the door and gestures for you to go in ahead of him.

‘‘Can I get you anything to drink?’’ He asks as he takes your jacket and leads you into the living room.

‘‘A glass of water would be nice,’’ you say as you look around his place curiously.

You watch him retreat to the kitchen before having a good look around. His home is nice and clean with rustic furnishings and family photos over the walls. There are some modern features as well and you are not surprised to see a large television set and multiple game consoles. He has a cabinet filled with DVDs and games and you smile when you spot his collection of anime, not knowing he was into that. As you’re running through them, you feel him come up behind you and glance back at him.

‘‘Here,’’ he says, passing you a glass of water which you accept with a small thanks and take a long drink. ‘‘Do you want to watch something?’’ He asks, gesturing at the DVDs with a nod.

‘‘Not really,’’ you say, shaking your head and moving to put your glass down on his table.

‘‘No? What would you like to do then?’’ He asks smirking.

‘‘I can think of a few more... pleasurable activities we could be doing,’’ you say running your hands over his shoulders and up his neck.

‘‘Can you now?’’ He asks before taking your face in one hand and brushing his lips across yours.

You hum in affirmation, meeting his kiss happily. Your eyes close as his tongue darts over your lips and you part your lips allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth. He tastes like the candy floss he ate earlier and you moan in pleasure as he quickly dominates the kiss while his other hand soon travels down your back to your ass where he squeezes one cheek.

‘‘Has anyone told ever told you that you have a great ass,’’ he asks grinning, as he pulls back slightly.

‘‘Yeah you have,’’ you chuckle, before pulling him back into the kiss.

His other hand soon joins in the groping of your ass as he continues kissing you thoroughly, exploring your mouth while his hands explore your ass. Soon enough you’re stripping him off his top and undoing his jeans button as he runs his teeth over your neck. Before you can pull his jeans down to discover what lies beneath he grasps your wrists and hold them aside.

‘‘I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I uh… like to be in control,’’ he says nervously, watching your expression.

‘‘I figured,’’ you say nodding with a delighted smile. ‘‘It’s lucky then that I like to give up control.’’

‘‘That is lucky,’’ he says chuckling. ‘‘Do you have a favourite safe word?’’

‘‘I prefer to use to traffic light system…’’

‘‘Red for stop, amber for wait and green to go?’’ He asks clarifying.

‘‘Yes exactly.’’

‘‘What colour are you feeling now?’’

‘‘Definitely green,’’ you say with a smirk. Pulling your hands out of his loose hold you run them down his scaled chest, following there progress with your gaze. Looking back up at him coyly, you ask, ‘‘What would you like?’’

‘‘Strip for me,’’ he says swallowing thickly.

You smile and quickly remove your top, revealing your toned slender figure and small breasts to his gaze. You wait a moment, giving him time to take in your form. When he meets your eyes he raises a brow questioningly and you're quick to remove your jeans and panties, shimmying them down over your ass and thighs and then off before straightening to stand.

He stares for a long moment, licking his lips before raising a finger and motioning for you to turn. You turn letting him see your ass and wiggle your hips teasingly. You grin hearing him exhale with a curse.

‘‘What would you like now?’’ You ask cheekily, wiggling your ass again for good measure.

‘‘Turn around and stand still,’’ he asks growling lowly.

Turning you do as he asks but you can’t resist giving him a cheeky grin when you see the bulge in his jeans. Slowly he pulls down the zipper of his jeans and takes them off revealing he’s wearing nothing underneath. His hard cock bobs freely and you see he’s built more like a tiefling in this area. He doesn’t have a slit and his balls hang low and heavy.

You gulp apprehensively as you gaze at his cock. It’s larger than you’ve taken before, thick and long with a narrowed tip. Creamy in colour, it’s ribbed too and it bulges at its base. Swallowing again you meet his gaze, seeing he has a large smirk on his face.

‘‘Think you can handle this?’’ He asks as he takes his cock in his hand and strokes himself slowly. You swear it gets bigger as he does, but you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.

‘‘I don’t know, it looks like more than a mouthful,’’ you tell him cheekily before licking your lips.

Crooking his finger in a come hither motion, he gestures for you to come closer and as you stand in front of him he leans down and brushes his lips against yours before instructing you to kneel.

‘‘You can touch me but you’re not allowed to use your hands. Do you understand?’’ He asks.

‘‘Yes,’’ you say nodding.

You see his eyes brighten before you look back at his cock. Leaning forward you lick over the tip a few times before taking him in your mouth and sucking the head of his cock. Folke groans and tips his head back in pleasure as you work your way down and over his cock. You discover you can only take him three quarters of the way before his tip hits the back of your throat and think that this would be much easier if you could use your hands. It doesn’t seem to bother him though as he continues to groan as you work your mouth over his cock.

With a growl, he suddenly wraps your long hair around his fist, holding it tightly and stops your movements. He bucks up twice into your mouth before growling.

‘‘Colour?’’

‘‘Green,’’ you say, moaning around the head of his cock.

Continuing to hold your head in place he resumes fucking your mouth with another growl. You momentarily worry that he will choke you but you’re pleasantry surprised when he never pushes his cock further inside than half way. Meeting his gaze you see him watching your expression carefully for any sign you want to stop and you smile around his cock before you start to hum. His eyes widen and with a curse he leaks precome that pleasantly tastes really sweet.

Pulling out he clenches his jaw, breathing heavily, clearly trying to keep himself from coming. You feel you juices run down your thighs, having enjoyed getting him worked up and you really hope that he will fuck you soon. You're really tempted to touch yourself but decide to wait on him feeling sure he will punish you if you do. It takes him a minute but eventually he meets your gaze.

‘‘Stand up,’’ he growls.

Standing up, he pulls you into a messy wet kiss before turning you and bending you over his sofa. He uses one hand to grasp the back of your neck holding you down, while his other hand strokes all the way down your spine to your ass causing a shiver to run through you. As he massages your ass, you wiggle it at him and squeal when he lightly spanks it.

‘‘Fuck! That ass…’’ he says cursing. ‘‘It should be illegal.’’

After giving it another light smack, he grips your hips positioning you to a better angle. You expect him to just plunge inside of you but he surprises you again by moving his hand to your mound and running one of his clawed fingers carefully over your slit. His finger swirls around your opening before he pushes it inside you.

‘‘Nice and wet... Tight too,’’ he says growling, before entering another finger and working them inside you. ‘‘Did you enjoy sucking my cock so much that it got you wet?’’

‘‘Yes… ’’ you say, whimpering as he scissors his fingers, stretching you in preparation for his cock.

You whine as he withdraws his fingers, but you're happy when you realise he’s going to replace them with his cock. You feel him rub it against your slit, coating it with your juices before he guides the head inside, hand shifting to squeeze your ass again.

‘‘Please Folke,’’ you say when he takes too long to move.

‘‘What's the magic word?’’ He asks with a low chuckle.

‘‘Folke, if you don’t move now I…’’ you say, gasping as he suddenly buries himself inside to the hilt. You feel him it your cervix and curse. ‘‘Amber!’’ You say yelping.

You feel him withdraw an inch but then holds still. You hear him mumbling an apology before he goes on to call you a goddess, saying you’re perfect and feel incredible. You half listen as you try to adjust to his size. He’s stretched your walls far further than any man or toy you’ve taken before. But he helps you to relax by massaging your shoulders and back while you lie taking deep breaths.

You smile feeling him lay kisses down and over your back and when you feel more relaxed, you experimentally clench around his cock and roll your hips slightly, feeling relieved when it doesn’t cause you any pain.

‘‘Green,’’ you sigh, rolling your hips again.

He quickly grasps your hips, holding you still before gently thrusting into you. When you only moan in response, he moves more confidently, pushing in and out and finding a rhythm he enjoys. You moan and gasp as he hits all the correct spots, feeling yourself push against his hold. Suddenly he changes your position, pulling you up so your back is against his chest, causing you to gasp. You’re so heated and his scales are cool against your back that it causes you to shudder.

With one arm across your chest and his other on your hip, he uses his tail to lift one of your legs, laying it over the sofa before moving his hand to your mound where he rubs your clit. His other hand moves to your breasts, squeezing and rolling your nipples with his clawed fingers. You tip your head back on his shoulder with a groan and clench around his cock feeling yourself close to coming. Folke must feel it to because he groans burying his face in your neck.

‘‘You’re perfect,’’ he says breathing heavily. ‘‘Come for me.’’

He thrusts up into you two more times, presses his knuckle over your clit and you come crying out his name. He continues to thrust deeply, drawing out your orgasm, before he exclaims.

‘‘I’m going to come,’’ he growls. His hand moves to your hip where he grips it roughly. ‘‘Where do you want me?’’

‘‘Inside. Come inside me,’’ you gasp still spasming.

You know your clean and protected, and you know he has immunity so you feel perfectly safe letting him come inside. Folke continues to thrust hard snarling and when he comes he does so with a growl. He continues to thrust, drawing out his own orgasm and causing you to tip over the edge again. You cry out hoarsely, your vision goes blurry and your leg collapses beneath you.

Fortunately Folke catches you and holds you up whilst leaning against the sofa. When he gets his breath back you feel yourself being pulled up into his arms and he carries you into the bathroom, where he gently sets you down in his tub. He gets in behind you and you lean heavily on him while he turns the water on. Letting your forehead drop forward to rest against his chest, you close your eyes relaxing while he washes your hair, moaning when he massages your scalp.

Once he’s rinsed out your hair, he proceeds to wash the rest of you, taking his time. He mumbles something but you don’t hear what and your breath hitches as he rubs the sponge over your mound. Chuckling breathlessly you lightly kiss his scaled chest before leaning up to brush your lips over his.

‘‘How do you feel,’’ he asks as he turns the shower off.

‘‘Really good,’’ you say tiredly, watching him get out the tub and grab two towels. ‘‘You?’’

He smiles at you as he wraps a towel around his waist. ‘‘Never been better,’’ he says, wrapping you in the other towel before picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the base of the bed and kneels in front of you.

‘‘Will you stay tonight?’’ He asks looking hopeful as he works to get you dry.

‘‘I don’t think I’ll be able to walk anywhere soon,’’ you reply chuckling.

‘‘Good,’’ he replies grinning.

He grabs one of his t-shirts and pulls it over your head. It’s far to big and it only just covers you but it will do for sleeping in you think tiredly. You watch him as he dries himself and pulls on a pair of boxers.

‘‘Get in bed. I’ll be back in a moment,’’ he says leaving the room.

When he returns with a glass of water in one hand and your panties in another, he finds you snuggled under his duvet waiting for him. He passes you both before getting under the duvet too. He waits until you’ve put the panties on and drank the water, before putting an arm around your shoulder and his tail around your legs, guiding you to lie with your front against his chest and your head tucked under his chin.

‘‘You're so warm,’’ he mumbles yawning. You yawn in response and he chuckles.

‘‘Is that a good thing?’’ You ask eventually.

‘‘Mmm very. It’s so nice, I may have to keep you,’’ he replies, lightly running his claws over your arm.

You smile as you kiss his chest and feel him tighten his arm around you briefly. You certainly wouldn’t protest to him keeping you, you think as you drift off to sleep.

Thanks for reading! If you liked it, please reblog it. Likes/Comments are appreciated too.

My Masterlist

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #male monster #tiefling #dragonborn #male/female #Female reader #interspecies relationship #My writing #My characters

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monster-bait · 4 years

Note

Soooo 👀 you got anymore HCs up your sleeve on Rukh? He has been living rent free in my brain for a while now (like a lot of your OCs!)😅🤩😍

Here are some HCs for Rukh, our favorite gruff bartender in the GW universe. (I've already started writing a small one-shot of Rukh's job interview with Tate, because once I started writing these, I couldn't get the idea out of my head! That will be posting to Patreon shortly!)

If you're interested in learning more about any of my existing characters, all ko-fi contributions earn a headcanon! (Higher amounts will be more detailed!)

Previous Rukh headcanons, including the extremely memorable moment of IvyMemnoch finding a Celtic flute version of Despacito (my fav Tumblr moment of the year, by far! 😂) can be found here

RUKH

Had never heard of the tiny resort town where the Pixie is located before responding to the job listing, despite the fact that he lives in neighboring Starling Heights. He’d been working in one of those quick-service garages before then—an embarrassing waste of his skills, but he figured with his prison record, he was lucky to find a job at all. He’d not been planning on leaving his position, was only looking for a part-time gig, but the job post for the Pixie was too intriguing to scroll past—it was written in Orcish, practically unheard in a mixed-species society, catching his eye immediately. Unlike the other half-a-dozen bartender help wanted ads he’d looked at, the Pixie’s post said nothing about requiring an “upbeat personality” or his “smile being part of the dress code,” all descriptors that made him cringe. Punctuality, accountability, and an authoritative presence were the expectations, experience a plus but not required...it was straightforward and direct., it was clearly directed at orcs...he fit the bill, he thought. He considered himself to have a finely-tuned bullshit meter, and the Pixie’s ad didn’t set it off at all

He has since admitted to himself that he has fallen for Tate’s particular brand of bullshit repeatedly over the years

Rukh is a very tightly closed book. He’s definitely the strong silent type and is not at all comfortable talking about himself. (Despite that, he spilled his guts and told Tate his whole life story during his job interview—falling for the bullshit instance #1)

He discovered a love of reading during his incarceration, one he didn’t possess in his younger days. When he moved to Starling Heights, he was low-key delighted to find his apartment was on the same block as the library. He prefers mysteries and crime novels to anything overly literary, doesn’t have the patience for the endless world-building of high fantasy, and enjoys a wide spectrum of non-fiction. It’s become a game of sorts, engaging Ainsley in conversation and being able to not only keep up, but add his own insights and facts.

Another mental game he likes to play is trying to pinpoint Tate’s actual age. He’d never come right out and ask but sometimes Tate will chime into conversations knowing things he just...shouldn’t, or else will make references to things that Rukh can barely remember from his *own* childhood, things he remembers his parents reminiscing over. He’s added some Celtic history books to his rotation and surreptitiously jots down notes on the random head-scratchers Tate will casually drop and follows rabbit holes looking into said notes...as a result, he’s even more spooked by Tate than he was before he started snooping 😂

When Rukh first started at the Pixie, he thought they would fail. He was positive about it. Too small, in the middle of nowhere, an owner who very quickly made enemies with most of the people in town...he was shocked when the old girl's business plan actually fell into place. Shocked and thrilled, of course. He loves having a routine, loves having a reason to get up and feel energized every day, likes the clientele and takes his job of overseeing the “sightseers” during tourist season seriously. Since the bar turns a respectable profit, they're constantly receiving promotional odds and ends, which is how Rukh wound up with a Bourbon of the Month club subscription for a free year. (Tate hissed like a cat and shooed the offending pamphlet away as though it might bite.) He continued the subscription once the free year ended, and looks forward to his monthly ritual—he waits until his night off, puts on some moody jazz, cracks open the month’s bottle, and enjoys it with a cigar. Thessa referred to it as a self-care routine once, after asking him about his plans for the night, and he nearly turned inside out in mortification.

He doesn’t talk about his time in prison, nor the crime he committed to wind up there. Tate is the only one who knows, and Rukh is happy to keep it that way. It’s not that he regrets the act itself all that much—he has no remorse for his brother, but rather the way it fractured their family, upended his life, and had branded him as someone to be wary of since his release.

That being said...things he did pick up during his incarceration—the ability to keep his head down and just get by, the knowledge that sometimes you simply need to kick someone’s ass, and the value of tidiness—are assets at the Pixie.

Loves nothing more than his solitary days at the Pixie during the off-season. The night-time regulars, while they consistently fill the cash till, are still a handful. He loves the quiet of the daytime, the handful of day drinkers, the time to hear himself think without needing to watch over every aspect of the business. Speaking of which—he knows how to do everything in the Pixie. The ordering, the inventory, the budgets, the schedules, the upkeep...he's not entirely sure why, as Tate very much micro-manages every bit of the day-to-day management, but it was something the boy insisted on and Rukh wasn't about to argue. "Someone needs to be able to take care of her if I'm not here anymore," was the only answer he got, and he decided it was easier not to ask questions. Since Silva has been on the scene, Rukh has been left to his own devices more often and it is *bliss.*

He thought he'd left his days of vice behind him. He drank, he smoked, he dabbled in recreational drugs, he worked on souped-up hot rods and bet on drag racing...prison changed all that and his life afterward left little room for any of it...but Tate and Ainsley are terrible terrible influences. Gamblers and hustlers, he has someone to talk cars with again, to trade intel on illegal street racing with, the chance to get his hands just a littttle bit dirty again, and he loves it

Smokey blues, soulful R&B, moody rock

Sloooow dancing

He is *incredibly* protective of Elshona. He’s the first person who meets her once she arrives in her new home, and he recognizes the fear in her eyes. He’s the only one who understands what it means to be cast out of one’s community, he knows what it means to have to start over again. He doesn’t understand the relationship she has with Tate, doesn’t know all of the details of her expulsion and shunning from her clan, but he’s made a quiet promise to himself that she’ll never be left to flounder completely alone again.

Has a FWB relationship with a half-troll woman in his building. Single mom, splits custody with her ex, so has several nights a week free, and she’ll spend one of them in his bed. It’s casual and neither of them is interested in pursuing more, but it’s occasional companionship and scratches an itch.

He's not immune to the plethora of easy sex the commune attracts. There would be hell to pay if the staff acted on anything beyond mild flirtation at the Pixie, but he'd be a liar if he said he hadn't drifted down to the parties and pool-side bar before to check things out. He's been on the receiving end of more than one edge of the party blowjob to know how addictive that sort of access to easy sex could be; he sees the commune residents and the reckless way they behave and knows how easy it would be to slip into that lust-crazed mindset, and makes a point of only indulging in visiting that side of the resort occasionally

He much prefers to find his partners the old fashioned way: closer to home, in one of the dimly lit little pubs around his neighborhood. He loves the adrenaline rush of a flirtation turning into close talking and lingering hands, that first heat-filled kiss. He doesn't mind the evening ending back at his or her place, he's not picky, and prefers to savor the night (as opposed to the fast, anonymous sex at the commune parties.) Ladies on top or old-fashioned missionary, any position that lets him see their faces: heads dropped back, faces screwed up in ecstasy, that moment when they come...he'll take that over a blow job in the dark any day of the week

A skill that Tate possesses that Rukh greatly admires and strives to emulate: easy banter which leads to confidences shared. They were talking about cars one minute, and in the next Rukh was revealing the details of the day he killed his brother, the shunning of his clan which followed, and his incarceration. He left that initial interview feeling shaken, positive that he'd been the victim of fae magic...but he's come to realize that there is truth in the old adage of hairstylists and barkeeps being the keepers of the whole town's secrets. Tate knows everything about everyone, is able to tease out information as casually as pouring the next drink, and Rukh has begun to employ the same tactics. He was shocked to find that it actually works. As the years have gone on, he's improved his game and knows much about all of the Pixie's regulars, hears the commune gossip and news from town, and is gleeful with the power of being able to pass on information that the Pixie can use to leverage her business.

There is very little that scares him in this world. Possessions are just things and things can be replaced, he's been in fights with bigger, meaner dudes than the Pixie's roughest patrons, and he's not afraid to meet his maker. He's let go of the past and the people in it and tries to live life one day at a time, and that's not a mindset that lends itself to fear much. Tate is a wholly different story. Rukh knew his type in prison: those who viewed other people as pawns, who traded and secrets gossip to advance their own positions; had a minotaur cellmate who was that sort and he got his ass kicked on the regular for it. He knew a lizardman who was as slippery, who contorted himself in and out of trouble, ingratiating himself with the guards and the inmates of the upper echelons to hold himself out of real hot water...but he's never met anyone with the same capacity for mischief and spite as his current employer, has never met anyone so terrifyingly adept at causing trouble while staying out of it. The boy isn't overly concerned about making enemies or worrying about his own hide and wreaks havoc for havoc's sake, and Rukh might be impressed if he didn't actually care about him. Silva is, in Rukh's opinion, Tate's perfect match. A sweet little angel, an absolute beauty, wide-eyed and innocent looking and, Rukh (rightly) suspects, just as shrewd and self-preserving as Tate. He has a feeling the entire town will be set ablaze if/when their relationship consumes itself, and only hopes it happens on his day off.

I hope you enjoyed this little peek into a character who doesn't get as much page time as some of his peers! If you'd like a headcanon of your own, visit my ko-fi! Thanks so much, IvyMemnoch!

#monsterbait answers #ko-fi #girls weekend #the plundered pixie #rukh #ivymemnoch

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cozycryptidcorner · 5 years

Text

Monster Match Masterlist

200-300 words:

ladylustitia and the Døkkálfr

animesparkleluv96 and a tiefling

aelia and the Valkyrie (with art)

jackal-of-hearts and the gorgon (with art)

seredreamerbeard and the seraphim (with art)

ivymemnoch and the shabti (with art)

pansexual-activity and the selkie (with art)

600+ words

sourartsoul and the vetehinen

Huffles and the Jötunn

love-and-monsters and the German

kawaiijellyfishgarden and the Owlman

navonneedsahug and the Dullahan

anonymous and the Asrai

moonlightreetops and the Android

anonymous and the Odonti

anonymous and the Elf

rofax and the huldrekall

atalantaroars and the potamoi

Do you want a monster match? Here’s some info.

#masterlist #monster match

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pixie-unger · 5 years

Text

I got tagged by @ivymemnoch

Rules: tag 9 people you’d like to get to know better

Top 3 Ships:

Aziraphale and Crowley (since the 90′s - Good Omens)

Yondu and Kraglin (GOTG)

Anne and Ann (Gentleman Jack)

I feel like I should include a hetero couple in there but I don’t generally like how they are written.

Last Song: I dunno - probably something by Joan Jett.

Lipstick or Chapstick: OMG - I get a little obsessive over Nivea Hydro Care. I have at least three in my purse and probably about 20 scattered around my house. 10/10 would recommend:

But I finally found a lipstick that I like. Which probably means it’s been discontinued, I’m sure. Treasure Island by Colour Pop. I want to be a lipstick girl, but I hardly ever find a colour that I like on myself

Last Movie: Whatever the last Terminator movie was called. The one that actually passed the Bechdal Test. I liked it. I would ship any combination of those ladies

Currently Watching: Sex Education on Netflix

Reading: Good Omens the scriptbook

Tags: (don’t feel obligated to do this!) @wolfangelwings @seventyfiveapples @cursedgoblin @smut-hamster @secretsecretsecretsecretsceret @bonesshallcrack @jillamy and a bunch of people already tagged before this got to me

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honeytama · 4 years

Text

Spinner’s Birthday Event ‘20

My favorite’s birthday is August 8th! I’m hosting an event in celebration of him cause we all know he deserves it. All posts will be tagged with #spinner’s birthday '20. This post will also be updated as a masterlist! All 18+.

☆ ★ ─ MINI FICS ─ ★ ☆

“Look what you do to me.” - Karma

“I’d hold onto something if I were you.” - Tabletop Experience?

Dessert With a Stranger

☆ ★ ─ HEADCANONS ─ ★ ☆

Cuddling

Hero X Villain AU

Sharing Food

Favorite Positions

Seeing his crush dressed formally...

First Time

Pillow Talk

Tag List: @knifeewifee @lilli-chae @thedreadthreadanomaly @ivymemnoch @beauty-in-ferality @cannibalchan @bakatenshii @hawks-senseis @royal-after-dark @wakaoujisenhime @shinsotired @lovelusional @thotsforvillainrights @lovekeigo @writinandcryin @candychronicles @gallickingun

#spinner x reader #shuichi iguchi x reader #mha spinner #spinner bnha #spinner mha #shuichi iguchi #iguchi shuichi #bnha #mha #bnha spinner #league of villians x reader #league of villians #lov #spinner’s birthday ‘20

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mxnsterbabe · 4 years

Text

Y’sran x Reader

Male Dragonborn/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 4,592 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

A commission for @ivymemnoch using the prompt ‘clearly I did not drink enough for this’. It was kinda tricky to fit a prompt into such a big wordcount, but this one kinda got away from me. Hopefully they still enjoy!

"I dare you... to kiss anybody in this tavern." Your friend Kami regarded you with dark, serious eyes, although the corners of his lips quirked up to reveal pointed teeth.

"Really?" you asked, brow quirked. Truth or dare had been a terrible idea, made worse by the fact you're current drinking partners were one very mischievous gnoll and his equally chaotic best friend.

"Dot and I don't count, obviously." he gestured to the petite human woman between you two, "but other than that, pick anyone you like! You have to kiss their lips though." Gnolls knew how to hold their liquor, and despite having drank twice as much as you and Dot combined, Kami wasn't even tipsy. The knowledge that he was daring you to do this while completely sober was not reassuring.

Scowling, you folded your arms across your chest and surveyed the tavern. Your mind was foggy from drink, surroundings wobbling as you cast an unimpressed glance across the room. There was the barman, obviously; a stout half-orc with a harsh scowl but kind heart. Two elves sat in the corner, heads bowed until their foreheads touched. You were hardly cruel enough to break up what was obviously a date. Which left you with.... a group of mean looking dragonborn, or the solitary tiefling singing drunkenly along to music only he could hear.

Great.

"That dragonborn man over there looks like a lovely candidate," Dot offered. Leaning half way across the table, she jabbed a finger toward the group. Subtle. You were thankful that they were too busy laughing and carrying on to notice her drunkenly stumble as she plopped back into her chair.

To give Dot her dues though, there was one specific dragonborn much cuter that the others. His skin was a bright golden orange that faded to a gentle cream beneath his jaw. And although it was difficult to see his face from your poor vantage point, you caught a flash of warm brown eyes and a cheerful grin as he stood to get another drink. Then there was his body, all shining gold scales and broad muscles beneath his tunic. He looked like a fighter, maybe even an adventurer.

Just looking at him made your brain freeze up, your joints lock in place, and you knew there was no chance in hell you would embarrass yourself in front of someone so attractive. Which unfortunately left you with... the tiefling.

Hauling yourself upright, you tried to ignore the wobble in your step - and the fact the ground, apparently, was coming up to meet you. Cringing, you downed the last of your beer and strode over to the tiefling. Sure, Dot and Kami were booing you from your booth, but at least the hot dragonborn was still oblivious to your fumbles.

The tiefling looked up as you strode over, his golden eyes narrowing. At least he stopped singing; it was beginning to give you a headache. "What is it?" he asked, not unkindly, but he was barely able to keep his head upright as he swung to face you. At some point he must have spilled his drink, because the table top was sticky and damp. Gross.

"Well," you replied, tossing a glare across your shoulder, "my friends over there dared me to kiss someone, and you seem like... the lesser of two evils, I suppose." Ah. Tactful. This alcohol was getting to you, head swimming worse by the second. Leaning one arm against the wall, you said, "I don't think I'm supposed to tell you it's a dare, but-"

"Hold up." He waved a slender hand, crimson skin shimmering under the light. He might have been handsome, if his shirt wasn't so beer stained and he could actually string a sentence together. Speech slurred he asked, "are you gonna pay me?"

"Why would I pay you?"

"F-for helping you win this dare. Obviously," he slurred, waving a hand dismissively. Unfocused eyes stared at you. Rather, stared a little past your left shoulder.

Lord. And you thought you were tipsy.

"I'm not going to pay you," came your reply, eyes darting warily to the glass that was dangerously close to his waving hands. You doubted, if he swiped it from the table, that you could dart away without tripping. Every time you looked down, the floor rushed up.

The tiefling pouted, then flopped back into his chair. "No money, no kiss."

"Come on, they won't let me live it down if I fail. Please? Just on the cheek?" That wasn't the deal, Kami had insisted on lips, but at this point you'd take what you got. Kami took truth or dare seriously, and you didn't want to have to do the walk of shame back to the table.

Yet the tiefling was adamant, smirking at you as he slowly slid further down his chair.

"Alright, I quit."

The dragonborn walked past as you turned away. You managed to slip underneath his arm without knocking anything, but as you moved away he asked, "everything okay?"

"Fine," you replied with a snort of laughter, "just lost a dare, is all." Before he could ask anything else you darted clumsily back to your table, where a fresh round of drinks waited for you.

"You barely even tried," Dot complained as you downed a shot of... something. "What about that gorgeous dragonborn?"

Wincing, you reached for another shot. You'd always been told not to mix your alcohol - but screw it. Already the mild buzz was turning into something more, a persistent dizziness that made you want to laugh. At least you'd never be as terrible as that tiefling. It was a wonder he hadn't puked.

Just as you thought the words, you heard a muffled heaving sound before someone gagged, and a wet splatter hit the wooden floor somewhere behind. You didn't dare turn around.

"Ugh," Kami muttered, "can't believe you tried to kiss that."

"It was your idea."

He gave you a toothy grin, fuzzy brows raised in fake innocence. Then he ushered you to get the next round of drinks - your punishment for failing the dare, probably - as he downed the last of his ale in one gulp.

The big orc behind the bar had been working here as long as you'd been a patron, and he had long gotten used to Kami and Dot's antics. He offered a sympathetic smile, but on his scarred face it was more of a grimace. "They giving you a hard time again?"

Rolling your eyes, you rested your elbows on the bar. At least the alcohol was beginning to fade, the tavern around you not quite so dizzying. "It's all in fun," you replied, "Kami's idea of fun just doesn't always align with mine."

"Ah." The orc - who's name was Orn, if you remembered right - gave your shoulder a firm pat. He looked like he could crack your bones without breaking a sweat, but he was surprisingly gentle. "What're you having?"

"Another ale for Kami, beer for Dot and me, please."

The tavern had started to fill with the night rush - people coming in from late shifts at the docks, or the mines over in Goldcrest. You were nudged aside by a tall elf woman dressed in fisherman's clothing, her golden hair damp and salty. "Three ales," she snapped, hopping onto a bar stool without so much as an acknowledgement. Behind her stood two orcs - likely friends, but they hovered more like bodyguards.

Huffing, you sidled to the side, waiting for the drinks. Nails tapping against the old wooden bar, you tried not to look as awkward as you felt. Another person shouldered past, knocking you into the nearest stood. Grunting in surprise you stuck out a hand to catch yourself - only for a thick, muscular arm to do the job for you. Eyes flickering up, you met the even gaze of the golden dragonborn from earlier.

"Are you all right?"

"Y-yeah," you stammered, whole face colouring, "just lost my footing."

Up close, his eyes were even more stunning than you thought. Rich brown ringed with amber, they looked almost black in the dim light. He had a stripe of pale scales above his eyes, reminiscent of eyebrows - it gave his features a sweet, gentle sort of look despite the razor teeth and enormous, curling horns.

His mouth was moving, yet the words had gone right over your head. Blinking, you felt your flush darken. Ah, a fantastic first impression. "Sorry, what?" Ugh. You were terrible at this.

His smile widened, but you never got the impression that he was laughing. "I asked what your name was. You can call me Y'sran."

Through a flurry of embarrassed stuttering, you managed to force out your name. The tavern was so loud you wondered if he even heard, but his beaming smile confirmed so. It was a lovely smile too, accented by little dimples. You didn't even know dragonborn could have dimples.

"I overheard your conversation with the tiefling earlier," Y'sran mused. Said tiefling must have left, because you couldn't see him anywhere in the crowd. "Something about a... dare?"

Great. Fantastic. Had everyone in the whole tavern overheard, or were you just unlucky? Folding your arms protectively across your chest, you let your eyes dart away. "Kami - that smug looking gnoll over there - dared me to kiss anyone in the tavern. I wrongfully assumed a drunk tiefling was the easiest choice."

Humming under his breath, Y'sran took a thoughtful drink from his tankard. His eyes rested on you, intense and unblinking, and it was difficult not to feel as if he was somehow evaluating you. For what reason though, was beyond you. Then, "you chose a drunk, beer stained man over, say, one of several handsome dragonborn?"

Your heart fluttered against your ribs, brain struggling to form a response. It was impossible to know if he was flirting, or just playing with you. A burst of laughter roared up from Y'sran's table, drowning out any other sound from within the tavern - and for one ridiculous moment you wondered if they were part of some joke you weren't getting.

Yet Y'sran's smile remained kind, if a little mischevous in the way his eyes crinkled. He set down his empty tankard and leaned close, so close you felt the warmth of his breath against the shell of his ear. "If you're dare is still ongoing," he murmured, "you've found yourself a willing participant."

Oh. Oh! It took a minute to click; yet when it did, your cheeks flushed so scarlet they must have been able to see it from the next town over. Choking back a surprised gasp, you pressed a hand to your chest - where your heart thrummed rapidly. "A-are you trying to mess with me?"

"Not at all," he answered smoothly, "I'm quite serious."

This was dangerously close to the land of hookups, dangerously close to more than just a kiss for the sake of a silly dare, and you stared up at him with wide, hesitant eyes.

"If you'd rather not, I understand. If you'd rather accept that you lost that dare-"

"It's not that," you interjected with a wince, "it's just... this feels awfully like a pity offer, and I clearly did not drink enough for this."

"You know," Y'sran mused, "I used to be a blacksmith. I was poor, and not particularly attractive to boot. I know what pity offers sound like, and I can assure you this isn't one." His teeth gleamed in the low light, but there was nothing viscous about him.

"One ale, to beers." Orn slammed three tankards down on the bar, the contents sloshing all over the place. He quirked a brow at Y'sran. "This guy bothering you?"

"I was only-"

"I asked her, not you."

Jumping to Y'sran's defence, you said, "no, he's fine. We were just, uh, talking."

Orn's flat face scrunched, disbelieving, but he accepted it nonetheless. "None of my business anyway," he admonished, returning to get drinks for a group of soot-covered miners halfway across the bar.

"So," Y'sran replied softly, "would you like that kiss or not?"

Of course, you weren't lucky enough for Orn's interruption to distract him. Shifting from foot to foot, you cast a glance across the crowded tavern. Dot and Kami were watching you like hawks, practically on the edge of their seats. Dot, especially, seemed eager. She waved a slender hand as if to say what are you doing? Don't look at us!

"Well, I suppose one kiss couldn't hurt," you replied softly.

With a broad smile across his dragon-like features, Y'sran hooked a huge arm around your waist and tugged you close. You practically fell into his embrace, a small squeak leaving your lips, but he gave you no time to protest as his lips crushed yours.

The first thing you noticed was how warm he was. You'd expected dragonborn to be cold, but maybe that was a myth. The second thing you noticed was how soft his scales were, his lips moulding perfectly with yours. Like you were meant for each other. It was a silly, overly romantic thought, but as your eyes slipped closed you couldn't help but feel like this was right.

Y'sran's arms snaked around you, his grip gentle yet firm. He was enormous, having to bend at the waist to get close enough to kiss - the feeling of being enveloped consumed you, made heat curl in your stomach. He deepened the kiss, the smell of sweet honey-ale surrounding you. His tongue brushed against your lips, a low growl rumbling in his throat-

You pulled away, face flushed and panting. Your legs had turned to jelly, but Y'sran's grip kept you upright. You looked up, meeting his beautiful, dark eyes, and the absurd compulsion to laugh rose within you.

"You're cute when you're flushed," Y'sran murmured, reaching out to brush hair from your face.

"That was... more than I expected for a simple dare."

He grinned, sharp teeth flashing. "I should come clean; I used that as an excuse. I've been admiring you since you arrived."

You were positively scarlet now, which only made his grin widen. "I- you have?"

Humming, Y'sran straightened himself out - and he towered above you by at least two feet. Then he cupped your chin, thumb brushing across your jaw. "You should get back to your friend," he insisted, "but when you're ready to leave, come find me. If you like."

The implications left your legs shaking, a nervous smile playing at your lips. "Sure," you replied softly, because it was all your addled brain would allow you to say. Y'sran brushed a chaste kiss across your cheeks - and then he was gone, melding back into the group of dragonborn without another word.

When you returned to Kami and Dot, they attacked you with a flurry of questions and demands.

"Who is that?"

"I told you he was better than that tiefling."

"Is he a good kisser?"

"You think any of his friends are single?"

Slinking into your side of the booth, you refused to look either of them in the eyes. "Please, can we not talk about it?"

"That bad, was it?"

"Or that good." Dot's bright blue eyes twinkled, lips spreading into an enormous grin. Leaning across the table, she steepled her fingers thoughtfully, yet she was practically buzzing in excitement. "Go on. Tell us. Please?"

Her big, doleful eyes were convincing, and with a muffled huff you dropped your head into your hands. "He's cute, okay? And weirdly nice, and I'm pretty sure he's an adventurer but he said he used to be a blacksmith. Also he, uh, asked me to meet after you two leave."

There was no need to look up in order to feel Kami's jaw splitting grin. He let out a yip of a laugh that made your ears ring, and the table shook as he slammed his hands down. "Amazing! I can't believe I accidentally set you up with a gorgeous dragonborn adventurer-"

"You didn't set us up," you replied softly, but your fluttering heart gave you away. At least your face was buried, so no one could see the flush that was quickly becoming permanent. Groaning, you buried your face deeper into the crook of your arm. Earlier confidence vanished, you simply wanted to disappear.

Dot's musical laughter rose over the din of the tavern. "It was his dare that made it happen. Give him a little credit at least, sate his ego."

Kami huffed, but you heard the smile in his voice as he said, "thank you."

You finally raised your head to get your drink - and that was when you realised you'd left it by the bar. No doubt someone else had swiped them by now, or Orn had sneakily drank one when no one was looking. Scowling, you cast your gaze across the room-

Only to see Y'sran carrying your drinks, striding right for your table.

"Oh, here comes your new boyfriend!"

Sinking into the seat, you felt embarrassment swell.

"You left these, and I don't trust unattended drinks around here." Y'sran set them down, flashing you a coy smile. "My friends will be leaving soon, if you still want me to walk you home."

You felt Dot's grin hot on your skin, sensed the way Kami's wide eyes snapped between you and Y'sran. Yes, you absolutely wanted the floor to swallow you up like it was a giant mimic. Yet the smile Y'sran sent you was so warm, so sweet, that you felt yourself melt. "That would be fantastic," you managed, "thank you."

With a parting wave, Y'sran left you, but you caught him peek over his shoulder before reaching his table. Honestly, you weren't entirely sure what he wanted - whether this was just for fun, or genuine attraction. Yet when he looked at you like that, all cheeky and cute, you couldn't help the flutters that erupted in your chest.

"...are you even listening?"

Head snapping back to Kami, you quirked a brow. "Sorry. I drifted off."

"With that gorgeous man to look at, I don't blame you," Dot replied wistfully - only to get an elbow in the ribs from Kami. She snorted, taking a swig of bear as she glared playfully. There was never any animosity between them, but it was a wonder they hadn't gotten together yet.

Biting your lip, you reached out for your own beer. However, when you took a sip and let the bitter taste take over, you curled your lips. You'd lost the mood for drinking, especially now that the tavern was so crowded you could smell the fish from the fishermen, the heat from so many bodies making you sweat.

Downing the last of his drink, Kami stretched his long, furred arms into the air. His joints cracked, his red eyes wincing. "It's late, and if I sleep in one more time my husband's going to kill me."

"I might stay a bit longer," Dot replied - then Kami caught her eyes, and the two of them shared one of their looks. The looks that told you they were conspiring. "Actually, you're right. I have to be up early to open the bakery."

Your gaze flickered between the two, but it didn't take much to figure out what they were up to. Shrugging, you finished the last of your beer before letting your gaze wander to Y'sran. His friends were readying to leave too, their massive frames taking up what seemed like half the tavern with their bulk. A dark red dragonborn in leather armour left with a shorter woman dressed in blue, perhaps his wife, leaving just Y'sran and a tall, black dragonborn chatting in the corner.

"See you tomorrow," Dot chirped, her gaze travelling with yours, "don't stay up too late, and don't do anything I wouldn't!"

Dot, despite her respectable upbringing, was hardly someone to give that sort of advice. In response you stuck out your tongue and said, "what, like hook up with a stranger? Didn't you do just that with a very handsome centaur just last week?"

Scrunching up her features in a mock-scowl, Dot bopped you over the top of the head. "Just have fun, you idiot, but be careful."

Kami and Dot left the tavern together, squeezing between two elves before disappearing out the door. The tavern, although still busy, seemed so much quieter without them. Turning back to your drink, you went to gulp some down - only to remember it was already finished. Damn. Your strong drinking had tapered off toward the evening, and you didn't have the same buzz as before. If there was any time you could have done with something to take the edge off, it was now.

Especially since the last of Y'sran's friends was ducking out of the too-small door, and the man in question was now beelining right for you.

Butterflies erupted in your chest at the sight of him. He strode so confidently, taking up every inch of space between tables, his skin shimmering like glitter in the low lighting. There was still a small part of you, a nagging little voice, that said this was all a joke. Or a dare, just like Kami had dared you. Yet when you looked at him, at his beautiful golden scales and warm, dark eyes - well, it was difficult to care what his motivations were.

"Ready to go, Sunshine?" He offered out one muscular arm.

The nickname made your heart stutter, a dopey grin spreading across your lips. You'd met barely an hour earlier, yet you felt as if you'd known him for years. Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded and linked your - much tinier - arm through his. It honestly didn't really work, with his towering height and long limbs, but you were grateful just to get to touch him.

Grinning broadly, Y'sran led you from the tavern. The chatter and laughter faded out, less and less until it was just a dull mutter in the background. Outside it was cold, and you wished you'd brought a jacket. Shivering, you pressed into his side.

"I'd offer my own," Y'sran offered with a laugh, "but I have the feeling it might drown you."

Eyes drifting across his body - broad shoulders led to a relatively narrow waist, which then in turn led to long, muscular legs poorly hidden underneath thick trousers. Anything of his would swamp you, and even his coat would likely trail the ground. "I'm fine," you murmured instead, "you run hot - hotter than I expected a dragonborn would."

"Contrary to belief," he replied easily, "we're not actually cold blooded. Especially in my case - my dragon side has been diluted over several generations."

Quirking a brow, your lips made a little o of surprise. "Really? But you're so... big. And those scales..."

He laughed, tugging you into his side so you had no choice but to wrap an arm around his waist. It was nice, if oddly domestic for a man you hardly knew. "My great-grandmother was a gold dragon, but I suppose I got all of the dragon genetics. My brothers and sister don't look nearly as reptilian as I do."

You wondered what it must have been like, to look so different to the rest of your siblings. Yet Y'sran's smile was genuine, as if answering your incessant questions was the best part of his evening, so you pushed down that guilt. "How many siblings do you have?"

As you continued to walk, Y'sran slowed his pace for you. Although for your short legs it was still a brisk walk, he must have been going at a snail's pace. He tapped his chin with one claw, thoughtful. "Let me see... Is'yen, Elda... I have four siblings, seven if you count half-siblings."

"Woah," you murmured, eyes wide as you looked up at him. "That's so many."

He hummed in agreement. You noticed that, although you were leading him back to your home, he wasn't paying attention to the streets. Instead his eyes were fixed on you, wide and wondering. "Enough about me," he admonished, "tell me about yourself."

You flushed, hoping the darkness would hide it. But didn't dragonborn have good dark vision? Squirming under his attention you murmured, "not much interesting about me. I'm surprised you took an interest at all, never mind enough to, uh, you know..."

His laugh was like music, deep and rough yet somehow beautiful. "I'm sorry if I came on too strong," he replied - and maybe it was your imagination, but you thought his cheeks turned pink under all the scales. "I might have had too much to drink."

"That makes both of us," you said with a wince. It wasn't like you made a habit of kissing random men, and usually you would have tossed Kami's stupid dare aside. You couldn't take the intensity of his gaze any more, so you turned to stare down the street ahead. Everything was closed now, the pavements empty save for a few drunkards hovering by the locked up butcher's. One was doubled over, vomiting onto the cobbles - remembering the tiefling, you looked away with a wince.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Y'sran continued after a moment, "I saw a chance and I took it. Maybe I should have-"

"Don't worry," you interjected, heart hammering. Could he feel your pulse beat against him? "It was actually... kind of cute, how you made it out like it was for my benefit. Helping me finish my dare and all that."

Y'sran laughed heartily, chest rumbling. "It was? I thought it was a terrible pick up line."

"I'm here, aren't I? So it must have worked."

"True enough." He sent you a dazzling smile, his sharp teeth poking into his bottom teeth. Now that you were alone out here in the cold, he didn't seem so unnaturally perfect. He was goofy and adorable, yet still by far the coolest person you had ever met. You enjoyed getting to know the real Y'ran behind the flirting and confident smiles.

You walked the rest of the way in peaceful silence, still smushed against each other's sides. You barely came up to his elbow, and being bundled up beside him was the most comfortable thing in the world. Yet it couldn't last forever, because soon enough you were stoof outside your front door, the overgrown bushes poking into your leg beneath your dress.

"Maybe I'll see you again sometime?" Y'sran offered hopefully, "I've enjoyed our time together, brief as it was."

"Me too." You shuffled, toying with the idea that sprang to mind. Ah, why not? "Do you want to come in?"

He blinked, before a slow smile spread across his lips. "Earlier, in the tavern, I know I came across like I wanted to-"

"The offer's there," you replied, grin matching his own, "doesn't have to go anywhere but... let's just see where the night takes us."

He hovered for a moment, and you could feel the cogs turning in his brain. Then, something seemed to click. With a rumbling laugh he scooped you up into his arms as effortlessly as if you were a doll, and carried you inside.

You laughed and clung to his neck, burying your face in the crook of one wide shoulder. Your chest was doing backflips, but as you nuzzled into him, those nerves began to recede.

Who knew where tonight would take you; but regardless, you were damn well looking forward to it.

#exophilia #exophilia fiction #monster romance #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #tag: mxf #tag: dragonborn #tag: male monster #tag: female reader #tag: sfw

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