I had to dig around Tolna's for this one, but here was my unpublished first attempt at writing Popper/Medrash back in September of last year lol
Warnings: The usual suspects for these two (non-human genitalia, size difference, Popper generally needing therapy), plus masturbation I guess.
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Popper clamped a hand down on his snout to stifle his moans as his fingers circled his cloaca. He could feel his hemipenes twitching to life inside, and his hand dipped down to press against the base of his tail, right against where the organs were hidden away.
"Shit..." he hissed, his hips writhing of their own accord against his hand. Normally, he wouldn't draw this out so much. He has a 'problem', he fixes it as quickly as possible, and moves on with his life. But tonight was different. He wanted to enjoy this, to luxuriate in his fantasies.
His head fell back against the wall with a soft thud as he conjured Medrash in his mind. His bright face, his strong body... He could probably lift Popper on one arm with hardly any effort.
Briefly, he tried to imagine that his own teasing fingers were Medrash's, but he quickly changed his mind. No... no, Medrash was a big, strong dragon. He should be worshipped, not worry about Popper's pleasure. And if his body was anything to go off, he was probably huge... Did dragonborn have one dick or two? Popper found himself unable to decide which he liked better, and in his mind's eye, it constantly flickered from one to the other.
Either way, he was kneeling at Medrash's feet, grovelling before him. Maybe Medrash had just rescued him from some terrible danger. Yes... yes, and now Popper needed to thank him for his bravery. Real-life-Popper allowed his fingers to slip inside his cloaca alongside the swelling hemipenes, and he let out a long whine at the stretch. Fuck... that was good. Okay, focus.
Fantasy-Popper was prostrated at Medrash's feet, thanking him profusely, tinted with the self-deprication typical of this type of dynamic for a kobold. But Medrash, kind Medrash, wouldn't play the role he was meant to. No, he'd crouch next to Popper and dry his tears, assure him that he's safe, that he'd protect Popper from now on. That no one would threaten Popper ever again. The next part was a bit fuzzy. Maybe Popper would ask if there's anything he can do to thank the mighty dragon, and maybe since he was so devoted and so good, Medrash would allow him the privilege of sucking his cock. (Cocks?)
Popper mentally skipped past the logistics and jumped right into the good part. He gave up on trying to be quiet now, instead frantically fingering his cloaca with one hand as the other stroked his twin dicks.
He imagined his face gently cradled in Medrash's hand as he stood before him. He wouldn't even need to kneel, he was already at the right height for his mouth to be perfectly lined up with Medrash's cock(s). As if he was made for this. (And maybe he was...) He'd open his mouth and allow Medrash to push his head forward. Even if he gagged and sputtered, Popper would keep going, keep taking him in all the way. He'd look up at Medrash through tears, and Medrash would smile at him, and tell him that he was so good and obedient. Popper would be perfectly pliant for Medrash, letting him fuck his mouth as roughly as he wanted. But Medrash wouldn't be rough. Even if Popper wanted him to, he'd be as gentle as a... Popper's lust-addled mind couldn't think of any gentle animals. He whined, bucking his hips against his hands more erratically. In his head, Medrash came down his throat at the same moment as the real Popper came onto his stomach, muscles convulsing with the intensity of it. And as he came down from his orgasm, Popper momentarily allowed himself to believe that this could be real, and that Medrash could actually want him.