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Mary Jane pressed a dragon-shaped sweet into Peter’s hand. “Tonight’s the night,” she said, munching the wing off of her own confectionary. “Are you excited?”


Peter grinned, biting into the head of his own treat, the sweetness of caramelised sugar and nuttiness of the pistachios melting on his tongue, a hint of spice burning through like dragonfire. “I’ve only been waiting four years,” he confirmed, nearly vibrating out of his skin with nerves. 


He still wore his temple robes, but on this night, the night of Lady Vanessa’s return, the priests and acolytes were allowed to mingle with the rest of the folk in the city, to revel and celebrate along with all the rest. Tonight wasn’t about religious obligation, really; it was a welcome and a farewell, and a celebration of living . All around them townsfolk ate sweets and delicacies handed out by vendors lining the road. Everyone was in high spirits with honey mead and mulled wine and Peter was no exception. 


Later that night, Peter would be expected to fulfil his obligations, but with the sun still low in the sky, the evening was his to enjoy with all the rest of them. 


Mary Jane and her fiancé, Harry had been Peter’s friends since childhood, but he hadn’t been able to see them often since he took his place as an acolyte at the Temple at fifteen. He knew that Harry was working as a clerk at his father’s mercantile company and that he and Mary Jane were due to marry in the coming summer, but tonight was the first night in months that Peter was able to really speak to his friends in anything but passing. 


Still, they knew what tonight meant to him. 


Peter had joined the temple four years ago as an opportunity to study the world as he had always longed to. At the temple, he could spend a lifetime studying the sciences, philosophy, and most importantly, for a lucky chosen few, the ways of dragons. 


Everyone knew the dragons inhabited the space between the earthly and the divine; that they were the intermediaries of the gods and meted out blessings and punishments on their behalf. Everyone knew that humans owed their safety and prosperity to the dragons that guarded their towns and villages, that any major battle started with the slaying of a guardian dragon. Everyone knew to give thanks and gifts in offering to the dragons for their protection. 


No one knew how they really lived, though. No one knew the secrets of their magic or their survival in this world. None but the ones they choose to teach, that is. Their human spouses.


Lady Vanessa was bride to the dragon, Deadpool, and had been for the last twenty-five years. Tonight was the night Lady Vanessa finally came down from the mountain to relieve her predecessor and former Bride, Lady Shiklah, as the city´s high priestess. Then later that night, she would choose her successor from amongst the volunteers. 


Peter dearly hoped that it would be him. 


Harry appeared beside his bride-to-be to hand her off a cup of mulled wine. “Hey, Peter,” he greeted with a grin. “Having fun? I bet it's nice to get out of the temple for a while, huh?”


Peter scowled playfully. “I like the temple, I´ll have you know! But I do miss you guys,” he admitted. “It's been too long since we´ve seen each other. I barely know what's going on with you.”


Harry raised a manicured brow. “You know, if you become Deadpool's next wife, you´ll be around even less.”


Peter shook his head, “You know His wife isn't kept in complete isolation. Even if I do get chosen, I´ll still be able to come down and visit. It's not as though we´ve never seen Lady Vanessa before,” he argued. 


Mary Jane gestured with her cup, “Yeah, at the temple . We´ve never seen her at the market or buying bread. If you become Deadpool's bride, chances are you´ll come down every so often, seclude yourself with Lady Vanessa, and then disappear back up the mountain before anybody has a chance to see you.”


Peter scoffed. “Do you seriously think my aunt would allow me to come into town and not see her?” It was true enough after all. He'd lived at the temple for four years and had yet to ever miss dinner with his aunt on Friday nights. He swore that he´d make more of an effort to see his friends, whether he was chosen to go up the mountain tonight or not. 


For now, though, he was here with them and there was a celebration to be had. 




It was when full night had fallen that the crowd congregated at the temple. On the steps, lit by dozens of torches stood Lady Shiklah, her white hair pulled up into an elaborately braided knot on the top of her head, regal violet robes whipping in the evening breeze. Lady Vanessa kneeled at her feet, Deadpool's red shining like blood firelight, her grey-shot ebony waves hanging loosely about her shoulders. 


“Twenty-five years ago,” Lady Shiklah intoned, “I chose you to take my place as bride to the dragon, Deadpool. For a generation, you have lived and learned and served our great city from the mountain. Tonight I ask once more that you take my place. Will you, Sister, lead our people as High Priestesses?”


Lady Vanessa looked up at her unfalteringly. “It would be my pleasure and honour to relieve you, Sister.”


At her words, the crowd who had been waiting with bated breath erupted in deafening cheers. As fireworks painted the night sky, Peter and his fellow volunteers took their places on the steps of the temple. 


“Good luck, Tiger,” Mary Jane whispered into his ear as cut his way through the throngs of people. 


Peter took his place beside Gwen, a fellow priestess and volunteer and the two shared a glance and a grin of excitement as they kneeled on the cold stone. 


When the cheers had died down, Lady Vanessa, now High Priestess, came to stand before the gathered participants. There were six of them in total, established priests and priestesses as well as a fresh acolyte or two, all of them eager to be chosen to be the Dragon´s spouse. 


Each of them had spoken to Lady Vanessa before this, though none of them knew what her criteria were for choosing her successor. For long minutes, Lady Vanessa walked the raised dais staring at each of them in turn, deliberating. 


It wasn´t until he heard the collective intake of breath from behind him that Peter registered the feeling of heavy, warm velvet draped across his shoulders. 


Opening his eyes he caught a glimpse of the red fabric trailing down his arms before he stared up into Lady Vanessa´s serene face. 


“Peter,” she said gently, though the word echoed through the courtyard. “Stand up, Brother, and rejoice. You are to wed the Dragon.”




To his surprise, Peter didn't go up the mountain that very night. In fact, he remained in the temple for another month training under Lady Vanessa. 


Under her tutelage, he learned what would be expected of him as the Dragon´s spouse. He knew that it would be his duty to collect offerings and generally interact with the people on Deadpool´s behalf, to bring to him the comings and goings of those under his watch. He knew that he would be expected to serve the Dragon in his hoard. There were so many little things that he didn't know. Work he was expected to do; studying he was expected to undertake so that one day he might take Lady Vanessa´s place again as high priest. 


Lady Vanessa did not teach him about Dragons, though. 


“Deadpool will tell you all that you want to know,” she assured him. “Believe me, if you give him the opportunity, he´ll never stop talking,” she said this last with an air of fond familiarity that made Peter irrationally jealous. 


He had never even met the dragon before; what right did he have being jealous of Deadpool's previous wives? He ought to be grateful that he was being taught these things about his Husband now, rather than being sent up the mountain ignorant like a sacrifice, as some other villages did. 


Deadpool was ruthless. He had killed countless other dragons, and innumerable humans, but it was precisely that bloodthirst that kept their city so safe and prosperous. He may delight in the slaughter of his enemies, but Deadpool was a generous and, by all accounts kind guardian. He wanted a willing volunteer to be his companion, not a hostage. 


It was this duality of spirit that first drew Peter to the idea of being the Dragon´s spouse. Peter had always been fascinated by dragons, but it was Deadpool that ultimately drew Peter to the temple. For as long as he could remember, above all else Peter wanted to be the dragon's bride. 


And now he was.


The month passed too slowly for Peter´s preference. He wanted to meet the dragon first hand. He was ready and eager to begin his new life as the dragon´s companion and liaison. 


Both too long and yet too soon the month passed and Peter found himself walking with Lady Vanessa up the mountain. 


They stopped at a flat, outcropping long after noon. 


“He´ll meet us here,” she assured Peter. “He´ll love you.”


“You´re sure? He doesn't prefer women, then?” Surprisingly, Lady Vanessa had made no mention over the past month to actually, well, being Deadpool's spouse . Peter had been left to his own imagination when thinking of how best to please his new husband. Or anything related to Deadpool's preferences in that regard. 


Vanessa´s brow wrinkled in thought. “I don't think Deadpool has a preference with regards to humans. He has a form that looks somewhat like a man, but even in such a form, he is still very much a dragon . He is so different from us in every way that I don´t think it really occurs to him the ways in which humans differ from one another. Mostly, he just enjoys having someone to talk to and keep him company. 


“That's why I chose you, you know. You are endlessly curious. You play and joke even during your studies. You find joy and humour in what you do. Deadpool is like that. He does not want a sombre disciple. He wants a friend.”


Just then a shadow crossed the midday sun. 


Peter looked up to see the massive drake circle overhead, spiralling closer as he cleared his landing. He gasped and stumbled backwards, shielding his eyes from the sun´s bright glare as Deadpool lowered himself to the ground.


He was a massive beast; twice as tall as Peter and longer than his aunt's house. The red and black of his scales dappled like fire in the sunlight. He had horns on the top of his head and the tip of his nose, and massive spikes down the ridge of his spine. His scales looked like weapons in their own right, like bladed armour. 


“Nessa,” said the great creature, his voice rough as hot coals. “I missed you.”


Lady Vanessa ran to the Dragon, throwing her arms around his massive snout and kissing the horned tip. “I missed you too, Pool. I brought you someone, though. I think you´re gonna get along real well,” she said in a voice Peter had never heard from her before. A bubbling, eager sort of voice that didn´t match the gravity of her position as High Priestess. “Pool,” she said, drawing Peter´s attention back to the matter at hand, “meet Peter.” 


The dragon's head swivelled to stare at Peter. Peter´s breath hitched.


“H- hi. I mean, hello! Uh, Deadpool. Master?”


Lady Vanessa´s shoulders shook with suppressed mirth and Deadpool's head tilted like a curious bird. “Gods, he's precious,” Deadpool muttered to his ex-wife. Louder, to Peter he said, “Just Deadpool is fine little one, but if you really wanna call me master, I'm certainly not going to stop you.” 


Peter blushed in mortification as Deadpool padded forward until his snout nearly touched Peter´s skin. The dragon snuffled at Peter´s hair, taking in his scent, curling his huge body around Peter´s as if to prevent escape, observing him from every angle. 


This close, Peter could smell the hot stone scent of overheated reptilian flesh and the hint of brimstone that lingered in the dragon´s great belly. It wasn't a bad scent. 


“You´ll do,” said Deadpool, and irritation spiked through Peter's nerves. 


“Oh, thanks,” he sniped before he could bite back the words. Instantly Peter froze in fear, but the dragon only huffed a laugh through his nose.


“Yeah, Ness was right,” Deadpool said, a pleased note in his voice. “We're going to get along great.”




Riding a dragon was the most exhilarating experience Peter had ever undergone in his life. On one hand, it was terrifying being so unnaturally high in the air, but there really was nothing like it. The dose of fear only heightened the excitement and he whooped as Deadpool made a particularly flashy turn in the air that Peter expected was probably entirely for his benefit. 


Peter slipped off his back when they landed in front of an elaborately carved cave entrance, but Peter had no eyes for curiosities yet. Instead he wrapped his arms tight around Deadpool’s foreleg and squeezed, brimming with adrenaline and pure, boyish joy. 


“That was amazing! Thank you! I want to do that all the time.”


Deadpool chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to enjoy it so much. Usually humans are terrified on the first ride, if they ever get used to it at all.”


Peter grinned. “It was terrifying!” he gushed. “But it was so much fun ! And the technical skill was just - wow. Wow. The whole thing, just. Wow. I’ve never had so much fun in my whole life.”


Deadpool preened, visibly. “Then we’ll do it again,” he promised. 


Peter brightened impossibly more. 


Deadpool nudged him with his snout. “Come on, let me show you around.”


And so Deadpool led them into the massive cavern. It was very much like the temple, but on a larger scale. Everything was immense, but the details were finely carved right out of the bedrock. Deeper in the cavern was a library filled to the brim with both old and new books; offerings and what must have been acquisitions of Deadpool’s own. He knew part of his job now would be buying new objects for the Dragon’s hoard, but seeing the library, seeing the display room with its countless treasures (mostly various weapons, which he knew were a favourite of Deadpool’s and made up many of the gifts the townsfolk offered him) was something else entirely. 


Looping back around from what Peter gathered were the main rooms; mostly the Hoard and some rooms for comfortable lounging, piled with cushions and furs, they passed through another cavern where Deadpool explained he kept his fresh meat.


“The kitchen is through there, but I can’t really get to it in this form,” he explained and yes, now that Peter looked, there appeared to be a human sized passage that he peeked inside, seeing what looked to him like a castle’s kitchen and he supposed that that was what this cave was. A castle built into the side of the mountain. 


“Usually my companion cooks, since I don’t technically need to cook my food to eat it, but it’s a preference of mine. I’ll cook for you tonight.”


“Just for tonight, as like a wedding present, or is cooking something you actually enjoy, like a hobby?” Peter wondered.


Deadpool’s head tilted in that curious way again. “I suppose it’s both.” 


Past the kitchen was a long, winding corridor that led deep into the mountain, ending in a large, surprisingly barren chamber that Peter assumed was the bedroom, with what looked a large, softly padded nest, along with a smaller, human sized antechamber. 


“This will be your room. Vanessa ought to have taken most of her things with her when she left the mountain, so it’s yours to do with as you like.” Sure enough, the room was mostly spartan, but definitely a human room with a huge oaken wardrobe and a human sized bed. 


“We won’t sleep together?” Peter asked, heart sinking before he rolled his eyes at himself. Of course they would still sleep together even if Peter had his own space. 


“Why would we?” Deadpool asked, and oh. They really wouldn’t be sleeping together.


“But…” Peter wondered, confused, “I’m your spouse.”




“Aren’t we going to, you know,” he gestured at Deadpool’s nest. “Consummate?”


Deadpool did the little huffing laugh again. “This isn’t that kind of marriage, Peter. Not that you’re not pretty for a human, but I don’t need that kind of service.”


“Oh,” Peter blushed, mortified and disappointed.


“Did you… want it to be that kind of marriage?” Deadpool asked cautiously. 


Peter shrugged, looking back toward the antechamber - his bedroom. “I mean, kind of.” It had only been his biggest fantasy since he was old enough to have them. “Lady Vanessa never told me it wouldn’t be like that. I just thought it wasn’t something we were supposed to talk about… Look you can’t be mad that I got married expecting a wedding night! And why even require a virgin anyway, if you’re not going to do anything about it?!”


Deadpool blinked, bemused. “Actually the virgin thing is a human tradition. I can’t tell one way or the other; and even if I did, why would I care? My only stipulation was my companion be unmarried, and that’s because it seems unfair to be married and then spend all your time with me. Peter, look, you don’t really want to be with me like that. Even in my humanoid form, I’m really not human. I don’t look like you.”


Peter furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Are you covered in scales or something?” he asked. 


Deadpool guffawed. “Am I co- Peter, I’m a dragon .” The air around them shimmered and then, between one blink and the next, Deadpool was a man. 


Or, man-shaped being, anyway, because wow . There was certainly no mistaking him as anything but a dragon. He had mostly human features; his nose was human-shaped, and his ears were in the same places, if longer and pointed. He had the same surprisingly blue eyes with their slit pupils though, and he was covered in scales. Red and black dripping down his body like viscera. Black horns spiralled back from his temples, fingers clawed, with large, scaled wings flared behind his back. He had no nipples or belly button and Peter assumed dragons must be egg-born. He was also the most well-muscled man Peter had ever seen. 


And completely naked.


“Oh…” Peter breathed, unable to take his eyes from the other man. 


“You see? I’m not exactly something a human would prefer.”


Peter blinked. “But you’re beautiful!” he blurted.


“What?” Deadpool scoffed. 


“You look… incredible. Just… awesome, really. Like, you’d be an attractive human I think, but like this … You look like a god.”


If dragons could blush Peter thought Deadpool would be. 


“I’m going to kiss you,” Deadpool announced. Warned? Peter didn’t have time to wonder before hot, dry lips pressed against his. Immediately Peter responded, sinking into it eagerly. 


He had never been kissed before and suddenly broad hands were palming his ribs, insinuating themselves between the fabric of his cloak; the one marking him as Deadpool’s and his own hemp tunic. Peter could feel the heat seeping into him and he couldn’t help but press himself close until he could feel the warmth of Deadpool’s skin from his chest to his knees. 


“Just to verify,” Peter gasped out, clutching at his husband’s broad shoulders, “I would very much like it to be that kind of marriage. In fact, I prepared back at the temple.”


Deadpool’s slitted pupils blew wide at the admission. “Peter, I think we’re going to get along really well.”


Peter laugh echoed like bells in the cavern and he pulled Deadpool into the wide chamber before climbing into the large nest. “I’ve been thinking about this since I was fourteen.”


Gods,” Deadpool wheezed, a punched out noise as dropped to is knees and crowded Peter against the pile of furs. Long canines grazed the vulnerable flesh of Peter’s neck before Deadpool pressed searing hot kisses down his throat, tearing off the cloak and slipping his hands up Peter’s tunic. 


Peter reached behind him and pulled his shirt off over his head, fumbling with his trousers with one hand while the other clutched at Deadpool’s broad, scaled shoulders. 


Finally naked, Peter let his legs fall open, welcoming the dragon between them. Deadpool’s hand slipped down his stomach while his mouth was occupied with Peter’s stiff, pink nipples. Hot, dry hands gave one long stroke up Peter’s hard shaft. Peter grabbed his thick wrist and pulled his hand up to his face, laving the dragon’s palm with his tongue before sucking his fingers into his mouth. 


“It’s better when it’s wet,” Peter explained and Deadpool smirked, wrapping his wet fingers around Peter’s cock again and stroking, pulling a long, drawn-out moan from Peter’s throat. His hand cupped the boy’s balls, rolling them in his palm before reaching further back, encountering wood.


Bewildered, Deadpool pulled back and Peter smirked, hooking his hands under his knees and displaying himself, showing off his hole stretched by a lacquered wooden plug.  “I told you I prepared before I came here. I may have been a little over-zealous. In my fantasy, we didn’t want to waste any time.”


“That’s very practical,” Deadpool said, voice strangled as he stared at the wooden toy. Clawed fingers sought out the edge of it and gave it a twist, delighting in Peter’s sudden gasp of pleasure. Slowly working it out of the boy’s body, Deadpool growled at the sight of his gaping hole. 


Unable to help himself, Deadpool lowered himself onto his stomach, pulling Peter closer by the hips before setting his mouth on the pretty pink furl, humming a pleased sound at Peter’s squeal of surprise. He tasted the oil Peter used to work himself open, and beneath that the clean musk of Peter himself, a taste he couldn’t wait to familiarise himself with. Working his tongue inside, Deadpool reached up to stroke Peter’s cock again. 


Peter was a mess of sound and motion. He couldn’t stop from wriggling on Deadpool’s tongue, thrusting his hips back onto his face and then up into his wet palm. Deadpool seemed to have no problem with Peter taking his pleasure, but Peter was approaching his peak faster than he wanted. 


“Stop! Please- please I’m going to come!”


The dragon obeyed, removing his mouth and ceasing the movement of his hand, squeezing the base of Peter’s cock, giving him a moment to breathe. Then he wrapped his lips around Peter’s leaking head and gave a long, hard suck and Peter was done for. 


Screaming into the open room, Peter shot into Deadpool’s waiting mouth, some of the viscous liquid drooling out and Peter gave a tortured moan at the sight, blue eyes locked on his own.


When Peter finally slumped back onto the furs, Deadpool sat up on his heels. “Can I?” he panted, wrapping his long fingers around his own leaking cock. Gasping for breath, his soft cock twitching at the thought, Peter opened his arms and kissed the taste of himself from Deadpool’s mouth as the hot, blunt tip of Deadpool’s cock breached his hole. 


Peter was open and relaxed and Deadpool didn’t waste any time acclimating before seating himself fully inside then drawing out just as smoothly. Not slowly, not at all, but not the rush that Peter himself imagined, either. Just a fluid, inexorable glide that had Peter’s cock perking up in no time. 


Peter was mesmerised at the shifting of muscle under scaled flesh and he clutched tighter, feeling those muscles under his hands. 


As Deadpool sped up, Peter wrapped his legs around his narrow waist, digging his heels into firm buttocks. 


“I- I’m-” Deadpool stuttered as his rhythm faltered and Peter felt the heat of the dragon’s cum marking him from the inside. The feeling pushed the boy over a second time and Peter arched into it, sighing. 


Deadpool stayed in place for a long minute before pulling out and settling around Peter, air shimmering once more to leave a fully sized dragon nuzzling at Peter’s sweaty hair, body curling protectively around his bride. 


“Was that what you were imagining?” Deadpool rumbled, breath tickling the side of Peter’s face. 


Peter rolled over and burrowed into the dragon’s warmth. “Better.”


After several moments of satiated silence, Deadpool said, “So I was planning on spiced venison for dinner,” and Peter grinned into the dark scales. 


It was definitely going to be that kind of marriage.