part one of monster fucker may: caldarus x f!reader (fields of mistria)
in which caldarus thought that his dragon-y side got in the way far too much when in his human form, especially when you were both intimate, but it just turned out that he needed to think outside the box —
themes: angst followed by smut, relationship dynamics, riding, we are holding onto those horns for dear life btw, caldarus is soft but passionate ofc • w.c: 1.8k • read on ao3
More often than not, as of late, you found that your visits to the temple in which Caldarus resided were accompanied by soft, often disgruntled mutterings. Personally speaking, you did not think that annoyance particularly suited him, but that did not stop whatever had so bothered him from lingering anyway. Ever since he had awoken into his half-human form, after all, his life had become both messy and impractical.
His tail would flick for one, usually out of excitement and from beyond his control, over the most trivial of things. For example, when he felt excited or alert, or whatever the case may be, resulting in rather odd consequences: things would break from his proximity—artefacts from the old ages, potted plants he tried to maintain—all resulting in something shattered.
To make matters worse, he found himself plagued with the inability to kiss you—let alone sometimes become intimate with you—for his own anatomy often stood in the way.
Come one evening, when you had swung by to visit, you had bought him a small, delicious little gift, to which he found himself optimistically leaning to your cheek for a thankful kiss. Just a small, polite peck on your face. What resulted instead were his horns, once again getting in the way. The things grazed bluntly against your skull, knocking you back ever so slightly.
In an instant, he backed away. “This keeps happening,” he blurted out, worry already seeping into his voice.
You tried to smile, hoping to approach this recurring issue with patience. “It’s okay—”
Caldarus nodded just once, trying to brace himself, but even as he tried, his tail brushed around anxiously against the stone floor, nearly sending you off balance in the process. You ended up stumbling back a step, and for one terrible second, the situation almost resulted in something horrible.
“Sorry,” he gasped. “I could have seriously hurt you just now.”
“Please, it’s fine,” you tried to insist.
“But it isn’t fine,” he countered, his voice rising in pitch. “It’s far from fine,” he added, a deep, weary sigh leaving his lips. “I am nit not used to this body at all, and I hate how it doesn’t listen to me. All I wish is to hold you normally and kiss you without hurting you. Now, I find myself unable to stand still without potentially risking harm—”
“You’re looking at it the wrong way because everything is still new to you,” you caught him, trying to talk him down, gently taking hold of his horns in the process. “I love these,” you soothed him, your fingers coming to settle near the base of where they grew, scratching at the root. His eyes gleamed at the sensation. It did feel quite nice.
“But,” he intercepted you, his insecurities creeping in despite himself, “my tail is a nuisance.”
A quiet scoff left you. “No,” you corrected, your tone firm. “Far from it,” you added right after, shaking your head. “I love that it shows your excitement.”
At that, his tail betrayed him right away, wagging with such enthusiasm that it manifested the very fear he lived in anticipation of, pushing you off balance once more. You tried to steady yourself only to lurch forward in the process, clumsily catching yourself with your arms flying everywhere, coming to land on his horns as he, too, dove towards you in an attempt to catch you.
You ended up pressed flush against him, your forehead just barely a sliver away from his own. His skin felt damp; his cheeks warmed up. His breath shuddered as he tried to find his composure again, even as you both slowly sank to the floor, with him holding you close in the process.
You found yourself—still holding onto his horns—pulling yourself closer to him.
Your lips almost grazing his.
“I…” he began, only for his voice to falter. He loved the feeling he was experiencing right now. You were a mess in his lap, reduced to melting with him on the floor, and he could feel everything about you. From your heartbeat racing. From your own body, in contrast to his, warming up to match the heat of the moment.
“You’re so close,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
“I am,” you confirmed, connecting your lips with his own, your hands tightening ever so slightly around his horns.
Caldarus gulped—heavily—reading into the situation with anticipation. His hands came to settle along your waist, pulling you back with him so that you had no choice but to straddle over him. The evidence of his hardness was already present, straining against the vibrant fabric of his robes. He gulped again; visible nervousness already wracking his frame. Every time he experienced you, it would not be without fearful excitement, afraid to hurt you, but so desperate to love you all the same.
Indeed, suddenly, it all became a little too hot. Too far. Too much. Too soon. Using your positive body language as his cue, he eased out of what he wore, revealing the rest of his impressive, tan shape. His skin was enveloped in a sheen of slick sweat, and his teal locks spilt almost elegantly along his bare chest. His golden eyes were blown wide, his pupils dilated with burning gold. To tell the truth, he looked almost terrified, and he half sounded it too.
“P-please,” he gasped, almost begged, the words he uttered barely formed. His hands trembled the whole time, but slid from your waist and down to the curve of your hips. His fingernails then sank into the soft, curvy flesh, his grip almost bruising.
“Are we…?” he asked, only for you to silently confirm with a kiss.
You slipped out of your farmer’s wear, shrugging the cloth off until it spilt loose on the tiles. It was almost cute how intoxicated Caldarus looked when he saw your bare form each time, as if he hadn’t seen you before so many times before already. His hands slid down in an instant, locking around the base of your thighs, gripping them with an intensity that felt reverent. He was unable to bite back the whimper that dribbled out of him then.
You rose, ever so slightly, guiding yourself over to sit on his now exposed length, settling down directly on his shaft. You could feel the blunt, almost heavy pressure of him demanding entry, swallowed up by the slick welcome of your heat.
Caldarus was quick to move, almost on instinct, resulting in something both messy and uncoordinated, but only at first. His thrusts were frantic and erratic, even as he tried his best to be careful, reminding himself to be gentle with you. Though his words were already lost on him, and he found himself unable to produce a single sentence that went beyond a muttered plea. Each time he pushed forward, his hips lurched with a desperate force that resulted in you becoming almost breathless and with stars in your eyes.
You leaned into him some more, coming to rest over the broadness of his shoulders. God, he felt so warm. Like fire, hot but tolerable. Your fingers returned to rest over the base of his horns, feeling the smooth, albeit ridged bone sliding beneath your palms. He groaned hard as you anchored yourself, sounding wounded, almost, from the delicious friction. His head lolled back as the intensity increased, resulting in a deep feverish heat to consume him.
“This isn’t too much, is it?” he finally managed, his voice utterly wrecked, as if ashamed of his own hunger.
You ground back against him, kissing him whenever your lips caught. “Never, god. I love you—”
That alone had already fractured him to the point of no return, and his grip on your thighs shifted from what was initially a tentative hold to something bruising and possessive, for hearing your love for him said so easily, stripped him of needing to be polite. Caldarus, instead, found himself leaning into you now untamed, his face buried deep into the crook of your neck, his breath hotter than it’s ever been.
He rutted into you with increasing abandon, driving himself deeper, as you, too, rode him as your life depended on it. The pace felt almost violent as he pounded into you so heavily, leaving you writhing atop of him, your toes curling in pleasure.
“Just—Just h-hold onto me,” he pleaded, his voice a low and gravelly mess.
Soon enough, the pressure from within almost felt unbearable: your legs trembled, tightened and quivered from the way your cunt flittered. Caldarus also vibrated, his body just about half destroyed with the effort of holding back; his fiery eyes now frantic and wet with tears from pure sensation.
He followed up with a groan. “Did you come?” he asked, gasping for air. “Please,” he rasped. “Did I make you come?”
You let out a sob of confirmation. “God, oh god, oh yes, I did—”
At your words, what little was left of his composure had shattered completely, letting himself spill inside you with a strangled, guttural cry. His body stiffened as he slammed into you, holding you above him with crushing force, his arms bound tight.
“Goodness,” he mumbled, his voice low and fretting a moment after as he settled from the high of completion, his eyes awkwardly darting around over everything he had knocked about. “Look what I’ve done. I’ve made even more of a mess—”
You managed a breathless, weak laugh. “It’s okay, Cal,” you reached out to settle him, brushing a damp lock of hair from his forehead. “Relax,” you added with a yawn. “It’s fine.”
A nervous laugh left him. “Y-yes, of course, it’s fine,” he mumbled out, his hands coming to brush up and down your body.
You hummed. “Yes,” then you settled lazier against his form. “You’re so warm,” you praised, pressing your cheek against his furnace-like chest. “It’s wonderful, Cal. You’re so warm.”
You started to drift off to sleep after, or at least close to it. Any awkwardness that had plagued Caldarus earlier swiftly melted away just as quickly as it had arisen. Any worry that had creased over his face had softened into something warmer; his chin coming to rest atop your head.
How relaxed you were, he thought. Gods, even—look at you—how quickly had you fallen asleep when wrapped up in his arms?
He longed to keep that feeling—
Even if this form did feel awkward, perhaps this was what he needed, and you did, too:
For him to be your comfort. The place where you could feel safe. Warm.
His breathing finally settled as he followed you to sleep.
[Icarus would walk into the quarantine room, glancing around. They had originally come to see if centross wanted to talk but their eyes landed on the new edition to the group]
“…you’re new..?”
@missing-golden-feathers 
[Cari looks up and stares at the new person] "are you gonna be yucky?" [They ask trying to keep his ears up and not pinned flat against their head]
❛ i had it under control. you didn’t need t'do that. ❜ || Dialogue ( not accepting )
The words cut deeply, scorning the woman who was just trying to help. Always trying to help, always trying to be the hero, of course she was trying to help. It was her Achille's heel. Always had been.
But there was no saving Jesse from this one. Lame, alone, missing an arm and trying to claw his way from the depths of a certain kind of hell. The mundane had become a roadblock now, standing tall in the way of a man who had been alone for so long, self reliant on his gun and his hat and his attitude.
You know it was bad when tying your shoe felt impossible.
Heart aching for her friend, Lena stepped in when, and where she could. Mostly, it was timely, depositing a missing phone or a dropped remote on the bedside table when he wasn't looking - as if it had been there the whole time. But sometimes, her overbearing nature clicked on before those - limited - filters could halt her progress in this cosmic mission to save others.
"Sorry, I - " Maybe it was anger at other things, but it certainly was justified. The others had been walking on eggshells around him since he emerged from that hospital room, while Lena had always tried to remain steady. Today, that mission failed, as she stepped in to fix yet another mundane roadblock that he had been struggling with for the past few minutes.
"You're right, I'm sorry." The emotion that choked her was quickly swallowed back. He was right. "I'll leave ya to it then."
