“ye. we only want tae play with you a bit,” soap adds, using his other paw to ‘gently’ pat your head. it jolts your whole body.

you sniffle. “what do you mean?”

“mating season.” from the darkness, a fourth dragon!ghost appears. he’s taller than the two, all black scales and authority. you gasp, eyes widening.

“si!” soap scolds.

at the same time, gaz says, “don’t scare her even more than she already is!”

the former huffs. “why waste time when we can get to the point?”

gaz pulls away slightly to give you space, but his gaze still holds yours with intensity. “look, trinket. we dragons mate in autumn, and you caught us at the right time. if you help us, we’ll reward you handsomely.”

“john has quite the hoard,” soap continues, “and he’d be willing to give ye whatever ye need to live comfortably for the rest of your life.”

“all we ask is that you let us breed you,” gaz finishes.

you gulp, the adrenaline now pooling somewhere else. somewhere wet and hot. the idea of four dragons fucking you makes you keen, thighs pressing together unconsciously.

“but how would this work?” you ask, looking over at ghost’s underbelly. from a slit on his abdomen, you can see two large cocks starting to poke out, and from the heads alone, they each look just as big as you.

the three chuckle, and soon a fourth voice joins in on the laugh. price finally makes a move, standing up and walking over to fully cage you in soap’s palm.

“oh, treasure,” he rumbles amusedly, “dragons can shapeshift. we wouldn’t want to break you, would we, boys?”

the three grunt in response.

you feel awed by their power, and when you don’t respond, price barks out an order. “kyle. simon. johnny. show my treasure what i mean.”

soap places you back on the rocky floor. suddenly, the sound of cracking and contorting echoes through the cave. and before you know it, three massive humanlike men stand before you. sharp horns protrude from their heads, human flesh surrounds random patched of scales, and their backs sport gigantic wings and a tail. most importantly, however, they are naked and proudly presenting two scaly cocks between their legs, tips weeping with seed.

in that moment, any doubts or reasoning went out the window. drool ran past your lips, and your tongue quickly followed to lap it up.

soap laughed, crouching in front of you to caress your face. “li’l sapphire likes what she sees.”

“does that mean we can ‘ave ‘er?” ghost grumbled, claws moving to fist his aching cocks.

gaz sneaks behind you and whispers in your ear, “it’s up to her.”

you take them in, lustful eyes raking over their faces, their bodies, their everything, desperate to find out what pleasure they’ll give you. craning your neck up to where price still towers over you all as a dragon, you call, “can i see you, too?”

a contented sound leaves price’s throat as he shifts into a burly man just as aching as his pack mates. he stalks to you, those eyes still gleaming like the apex predator he very much is, and he turns you to face him. “well? are you pleased with your mates?”

you nod.

the four of them purr, finally putting their hands on you.

“good treasure. now just sit there and look pretty for us. we’ll take good care of you.”

“i’m ‘ome!” simon called out, stepping into the safety of your cozy abode. a faint response was heard from the master bedroom upstairs, and he shrugged off his boots to see what his little lovebirds were up to. to his surprise, the bed was littered in various products and trinkets, the likes of which simon couldn’t even begin to name. in the center of them were you and johnny. your hands cradled his face as you tugged a black pen-like object across his eyes. simon couldn’t help but snicker at johnny’s pleased expression.

“hey, simon.” you acknowledged, not tearing your eyes away from your project. johnny went to speak, but your spare hand shot up to clasp his lips together. “you talk too animated.”

“our doll is turning you into one, too, eh?” simon asked, electing to sit behind you on the bed. once you finished a pass with the pen, he rested his head on your shoulder.

“he wanted to look pretty,” you cooed, sparing him a kiss to his covered forehead. the giant practically purred, removing his balaclava and nuzzling into your neck.

“that he does, doll.”

your hands continue to paint johnny, turning him into an edgy version of himself that makes you smile.

“honestly…?” you look to simon, who nods in agreement, “you could rock this all the time, baby.”

johnny’s smile reaches his ears as he bounds off to the bathroom, metaphorical tail wagging wildly. “ooo, yes! i could get used to this, bon. i love the little heart you put under me eye!”

all of your boyfriends loved and adored your style and subculture, but johnny was always your biggest cheerleader. he never made you feel different for your interests, always praised them and bought you whatever dark and broody thing you wanted. it’s not to say the others didn’t as well, but johnny just understood you on a level that made your heart simmer with love.

“‘ey.” simon butted your neck. you smiled in understanding. pay attention to me. “make me look pretty, too.”

there was something so endearing about big, mean simon, the boogeyman, the silent assassin, unraveling in your presence to become a whiny, desperate man in need of your affection and praise. he could break you in half at a moment’s notice, and yet here he is, all docile and pathetic on your shoulder.

“oh, simon,” you sighed, pulling away from him. “how can i refuse?”

the next victim to arrive was kyle, who couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of johnny parading around in your jewelry and simon sitting obediently while you drew your eyeliner around his eyes (he grew up with sisters; he knew what those ‘trinkets’ were). “don’t we look braw, kyle?”

“pfft, you look like you’re going to see bring me the horizon,” kyle chuckled.

“that’s what i was going for,” you mutter, transfixed by your new canvas. you and simon opted for a tradgoth style that resembled his skeletal mask. his face was painted ghost white, save for the black lines framing his new ‘skeleton’.

“you should let ‘er do you next,” johnny offered, sauntering over to the taller man to sling a spiked arm around his shoulder. black lips pressed to his cheek and left behind a lip print.

“oh, hell! it’s so sticky!” kyle grumbled, rubbing the spot with his now-stained fingers.

“johnny, i told you to quit licking your lips,” you admonished, finishing up simon’s left eye.

“it’s jus’ too weird, bon! it’s like jam on your lips.”

kyle went to the bed and plucked the tube of liquid lipstick. maleficent, the bottom label read. how apt. he twisted the cap and pursed his lips, applying the lipstick with the doe foot applicator. smacking his lips, he scoffed. “it’s not that bad, johnny.”

upon turning around, the latter began laughing, shaking his head. “go look at yourself, dafty.”

“what?” kyle furrowed his brow, walking into the bathroom. his lips were black, yes, but so was the skin surrounding them. and his philtrum. and somehow the tip of his chin?

“fuck me.”

“i hope this is easy to remove, bon, ‘cause it’s all over ‘im.”

“kyle!” you snapped, looking at his painted face. as loathe he was to admit it, he was just as ornery as johnny. you chuffed, shaking your head. “i’ll fix you in a moment. let me finish with si first.”

though he was sheepish, kyle was glad you’d be playing with him next. the two watched as you painted simon with grace, biting your lip in intense focus. the little details you put into making him look awesome, albeit for a silly little moment, made them swell with pride. they couldn’t have chosen a better partner. one so attentive to give them each a little piece of your beauty on their skins. with one last stroke (and a small black heart), simon’s was completed. he admired it in the mirror, nodding in approval. if he liked the heart, he didn’t say so (he absolutely did).

“now, let’s fix your lips, handsome.” kyle gushed at the pet name and took simon’s old place on the bed. dipping a q-tip in makeup remover, you rubbed at his face with determined fervor.

“can’t you go a little softer, luvie?”

“no can do. shit’s long lasting.”

thankfully, it was over quickly, but your eyes caught his and glossed over. it was time for the ‘johnny’ look. “can i give you some eyeshadow?”

while kyle was an expert on johnny denial, he couldn’t say the same for you. with a sigh, he nodded, smiling. “go for it. but i better look amazing, yeah?”

you bounced with glee. taking a square brush to his face, you packed on black pigment and used a second brush to feather it out. simple, yet effective. “all done,” you beamed.

the mirror showed kyle a look he’d never wear in any other context than for your pure enjoyment. judging by your happy expressions (and compliments of how sexy he looked), he might have to wear it again for you.

as if in cue, the final piece to your heart waltzed into the room, a deep laugh filling the air at the sight of his lovers. “what’re you all doing? playin’ dress up?”

“oh, i can get you all outfits, too,” you thought aloud, delighted by the idea john put into your head. “you all would look so good with spiked chokers.”

“don’t we look great, cap?” johnny smiled.

“our princess is quite the artist,” john agreed, stalking over to you and kissing your lips. “so talented.”

“would you want to join in?” you asked. you figured he wouldn’t care about makeup, and he probably didn’t, but just like the others, he got so soft for you.

“i’d love nothing more.”

yes i just made up the head canon that gaz has sisters just so he could know what eyeliner is, what of it?

one morning, you woke up to the sound of birds chirping about and sunlight filtering in through the curtains—nothing out of the ordinary. you keened as you sit up, stretching your arms over your head to shake off the night’s aches. sliding off the comforter and into your house slippers, your teeth clicked together to beckon your sweet black cat and familiar, harlow, to your side. when she didn’t come immediately, you shouted, “harlow?”

again, no reply. how odd. the cat was normally in your bed upon waking, and if she wasn’t, she would be scampering gleefully into your room for pets (and food). your brow furrowed, glancing around to find her. you crouched down and found her golden eyes blinking back at you from the shadows. clearly, she was on edge.

“hey, baby, what’s wrong?” you cooed, reaching out to her. she backed farther into her corner.

a loud bang! caused you both to jump. the noise sounded like pots and pans clambering together. adrenaline pumped through your veins and rang in your ears as you got up and slowly crept toward the door. you carefully opened it wider and listened for more.

“-didn’t know it was there!”

“fuckin’ git.”

people. people were whispering your cottage. many emotions swirled in your mind: fear, confusion, rage. you grasped your spellbook sat atop your bookshelf next to the door and walked to the top of the stairs. the scent of hearty meats filled your nose. with a sharp, anxious inhale, you shouted, “i’m giving you all ten seconds to leave this house before i turn you into toads.”

two men scrambled to the front entry to look up at you from your loft, and you recognized them. “sorry, miss! we didn’t mean to scare you!” the one with dark skin and a lovely smile announced, hands raised in defense.

“yes, we jus’ wanted to surprise you ‘n’ thank you.” the older one with mutton chops and soft eyes rumbled.

you blinked in disbelief. these were two of the four werewolves you had been helping with an ailment, and after a month of hard work, you’d finally arrived at some sort of answer. there’s no way to cure lycanthropy, but giving them something to ease that terrible pain was a privilege you didn’t want to take for granted. and apparently, judging by them trespassing on your cottage with dopey smiles on their faces and wagging wolf tails, they weren’t going to either.

“why on earth do you think breaking into my home while i’m sleeping is acceptable?!” you berate, resting your book by your side as you stomp down the steps.

“i-i know it’s unconventional, but we wanted to make you breakfast.” the first one, kyle as he’d introduced himself as, said sheepishly. his eyes held his voice’s remorse, but they still glimmered with cheekiness.

“please don’ be mad at my pack, miss. they feel indebted to you for all you’ve done for us. as do i,” added their leader, john.

you sighed. if you were a normal human, perhaps you would be more livid at the whole invading your home thing. but you were familiar with werewolf antics, and if they feel strongly about something, there’s not much that can be done to stop them. once you reached the bottom, you could see the other two, johnny and simon, giving your kitchen that mesmerizing smell. simon slaved over the fire, stirring what appeared to be a stew, while johnny was trying to hang some pots back on the wall. you eyed john pointedly.

“i’m sorry for startling you,” he apologized—for both johnny and their burglary.

“well, i suppose i should thank you all for wanting to repay me, but it’s really not necessary. you’ve already paid me in gold, and—is that venison?”

the smell permeated through your nose and straight to your soul, eyes alit with hope.

“yes, angel. we caught and prepared it for you last night.”

warmth fills your chest at the prospect of them doing all of this for you. it was so sweet and thoughtful, so…domestic. “i…this…” you were at a loss.

“‘s not too much, hun,” kyle finished your thoughts. he sauntered over to rest a hand on your shoulder. “you’ve done more for us than you can ever know.”

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