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Dreaming Volo, Hidden Dragon

Summary:

Taken to "safety" beneath Wyrm's Rock Fortress, Volo tries to get a little sleep after a long day. It seems, however, that restful sleep is not on the agenda as he finds a visitor filtering into his consciousness, establishing a mental link through which his deepest fantasies might finally be realised...

Aka, Volo always dreamed about fucking a dragon and tonight he finds this dream far more vivid~

Notes:

Prompt:

 

Tadpole teasing/mental imagery exchange

**Note** - Bold and Italic text represents telepathic communication.

With extra thanks to Tolna's Vault and the Dragon Size Kink Research Squad~
(The size of Ansur is...vague at best, my apologies)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Volothamp Geddarm, as an author – and wizard – of considerable renown, had perhaps expected to be greeted upon arrival, or at least to receive a personal note from his host and comfortable quarters. Instead, rather alarmingly, he found himself led down the stairs to the cells beneath Wyrm’s Rock Fortress.

“No safer place to be.” One guard had said, ushering him inside and pointing out that it did at least have a proper bed and writing desk.

“It’s for your own good.” The other had agreed, locking the heavy metal bars behind her, leaving Volo in the company of what were presumably several rats scurrying in the walls and a rather large domestic spider in one corner. 

After several hours he gave up the loud protests – in no small part due to a nearby prisoner asking to be flayed then burned alive rather than listening to Volo’s “incessant whining” as she had so graciously described it. 

Some people had no appreciation for the arts, or the needs of the artist. 

Volo sighed as he lay on the bed, counting the lines in the cobweb on the ceiling and pointedly avoiding the blank pages that he had plenty of free time to fill. This was simply not the time – he couldn’t possibly be expected to work under these conditions…

At some point, the wizard reasoned he must have drifted off to sleep as he was awoken by a whisper in the back of his mind. Unfamiliar, hoarse despite the telepathic nature of the communication – something was gently reaching out to him in the dark, awaiting a response. 

“I feel you, wizard…familiar…”  

Volo replied within his thoughts, trying carefully to allow the shadows forming in his mind to distill into clearer images. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, I don’t believe we have met.” 

“Witness.” A single word, somewhere in the space between a command and an invitation, and the shape began to coalesce as if a lit candle were drawing nearer. 

Bronze scales clad in shining gold armour, a proud face and furrowed brow – a dragonborn stood before Volo in the landscape his mind created for them. Or perhaps it was created by both, an entwining of thoughts and feeling that transcended a dream yet didn’t quite touch upon reality. 

“Ansur.”

“But you haven’t asked me anything,” Volo replied, ‘stepping’ closer to the warrior.

“That is my name, though I have been known by others,” The dragonborn continued, though his voice became more…tangible, as the lines between thought and present experience blurred. “Perhaps you recall The Waiting Storm or The Heart of The Gate.” 

“By the gods,” the wizard stopped a mere single pace away from the visitor in his mind, “could it be?” 

“I felt the presence of one whose mind was open, who might hear me should I speak,” Ansur continued, a look of longing crossing his features now. “It has been…centuries, perhaps more, since I have felt one such as you.” 

“I’ve read of you – heard the stories, of course, of the founding of this great city… I had no idea you might still be here! My dear fellow, where are you?” Volo pressed his mind outwards, feeling through the Weave, reaching out to find how and where the Dragonborn could remain after so long.

“Stop.” A command that came with a hand firmly pressed to Volo’s chest. “I cannot…should not be found. Allow me the simple pleasure of a conversation, at least.” 

The loneliness emanating from the dragonborn was as vivid as the glittering shine of his scales. “Of course! Of course, I have no intention – or, I daresay, ability – to leave.” 

“You may wake when you wish, I will not hold you here against your—” 

“No, not you – this room. You see, I am told I am to be protected yet the lock is quite secure to prevent me from leaving as much as anyone unauthorised entering.” Volo adjusted his moustache for a moment, wondering perhaps why Ansur’s hand yet lingered against him. “Is there anything I can, ah, help you with?” 

Cautiously, Volo covered Ansur’s hand with his own – encouraging, asking and giving permission, feeling his heart begin to race.

There were…particulars of a dragonborn’s anatomy that could be quite pleasurable for both parties. 

“Show me,” Ansur leaned a little closer, peering into the human’s eyes, “show me what it is you are dreaming of.” 

Volo closed his eyes – the eyes of his dream-self within his own mind, as impossible as that seemed – and allowed his thoughts to flow more freely between them. An idea at first, like a kiss to tease, then an image – foreplay of the mind – and then a scene beginning to unfold as his imagination ran wilder.

“I agree.” 

“You…do?” 

“You may begin.” 

The benefit of being outside of reality was that clothing could vanish at a mere thought, fingers could be lubricated without ever having to unstopper a bottle, and a bed could form from thin air. 

Volo knelt below the dragonborn on the rather ostentatious bed – it was his dream and if he wished for luxury then by the gods he would have it – and pressed soft kisses to the muscular and scarred torso of his midnight visitor.

Below Ansur’s waist was a slit in his scales, a space for the rather unique anatomy of the reptilian folk, which was presently hidden within the sheath. Volo ran his tongue along the edge, earning a low and pleased growl from the man who was melting beneath his touch, fingers sliding easily inside to coax forth his prize. 

Ridged and slowly hardening, even without the need for physical reality, twin lengths began to slip free. Volo curled his fingers around one of them whilst the other pressed between his lips, tongue greedily sampling ever more of what Ansur’s body was willing to offer him.

“This is… good…” The dragonborn rumbled like a purr, claws finding a soft grip on the back of Volo’s head – careful not to disturb his hat, of course – as Ansur’s tail wrapped around his upper back to hold him closer. “More…” 

Volo’s free hand slid deeper within the sheath, fingertips caressing the bases, seeking the perfect points to pull pleasure from the projection of the ancient hero’s form. Each little growl, every twitch of Ansur’s tail, both sign to continue and a reward for his efforts. 

Just as he began to wonder if it was even possible to achieve climax within such a state, he felt the shaft between his lips begin to quiver and spasm. Volo swallowed hard, working his tongue along every ridge as Ansur let go and coated his throat with a phantom heat, impossible lust just as vivid as if they were truly there.

He noted, however, that the length that his fingers still caressed had not achieved orgasm yet… Interesting.

Volo redoubled his efforts with his mouth, sucking hard as both hands focused on bringing the other half of the twinned anatomy only to the edge before drawing back, even as the first released a second time. 

Ansur’s claws dug in sharply, tail holding on as if trying to cling to his sanity as his hips began to move, fucking into the wizards face and hands with desperation. Wordlessly demanding more and less in the same breath.

Of course, who would Volothamp Geddarm be to refuse such a request? He continued his game, increasing both overstimulation and the near-torturous edging until—

Ansur pulled him forcibly upwards – legs tail and arms all working to hoist Volo bodily free from aching lengths that still twitched with need. Held aloft, the wizard merely grinned and wiped the spend from his lips. 

“I had always wondered if that might be possible, and I must say my dear fellow you do not disappoint.” 

“You play dangerous games, wizard.” 

“What danger is there within this space? Reality need not affect our evening of entertainment.” A far more devious expression began to work its way across Volo’s face, earning a raised brow from the dragonborn holding him like a pet who had been scratching at the furniture. “You’re not merely a dragonborn, are you?” 

“I am not…” Ansur regarded him with a blend of curiosity and concern, as Volo began to project a fresh thought from the depths of his mind – thoughts that often remained locked up by that withered sense of self-preservation that threw the keys on the ground and stormed off in the face of undeniable logic; there’s no real danger in a dream. 

“Well?” 

“You are adventurous. Perhaps to the point of your own destruction…” 

“Show me. Everything.” 

The transformation happened much as any dream ever does, the mirror of reality warping and shifting like quicksilver. The bed and unclear surroundings vanished, leaving in their wake a huge and empty cave.

Empty, that is, except for a full sized bronze dragon and one stunned wizard. 

Ansur was everything he had dreamed of. Unbelievably huge, an impressive mass of muscle and sinew covered in glittering scales that made the dragon look like a treasure more valuable than any hoard.

Volo stepped forward, placing one hand against a scale almost as wide as the span of his spread fingertips. The dragon’s huge head watched him closely as he moved down the chest towards the underbelly, hoping he might find what he had long dreamed of. 

Oh, they were magnificent. Twin lengths protruding from a sheath, twisting together to form one gargantuan shaft with a pair of heads at the tip. There would be no teasing them separately this time – if he could even work out how to pleasure the dragon at all. 

“Impossible,” Ansur sighed, “but I hope the sight alone has satisfied your curiosity.” 

“Impossible? Never heard of such nonsense,” Volo ran his fingers across the ridges, wondering if it tasted the same, if it might feel the same…if there were truly a way he could…

A few moments passed as Ansur merely watched, heat of his breath warm on Volo’s back, shivering slightly as the wizard caressed him with care. 

“Use me.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is all within the realm of the mind, you cannot hurt me, nor I you – before, you mentioned centuries alone, without company, without touch…” Volo turned, walking to the dragon’s head and placing a soft kiss upon his scaled snout. “So I want you to use me. However you wish. Your pleasure, mine – it can be both, of course. I would be honoured to provide you with what you desire most.” 

“An interesting proposal,” Ansur considered it for a moment, idly nuzzling into Volo’s bare chest, nostrils flaring as he took in the human’s imagined scent. “Very well. I accept.” 

The wizard’s heart leapt, performing a backflip with a triple twist somewhere beneath his ribs, as he realised exactly what this would mean. A rush of thoughts formed in his mind, projecting towards the dragon, dreams and fantasies far too wild to be realised within the physical realm yet—

“Stop,” the dragon’s growl was soft and calm, “you asked me to use you. That is what I shall do.” 

Ansur’s tongue slipped out from between scaled lips, licking cautiously along Volo’s entire body from ankles to neck. Moments later claws wrapped around his waist, lifting him off the ground to allow the dragon better access. 

This time the lick was slower, teasing and testing, large flat of the dragon’s hot tongue pressing against his arousal, tip flicking between his legs to lap at nerves that ached to have something inside.

What that something would be, however, was not up to Volo to decide.

For the next few minutes, Ansur focused all his attention on tasting the wizard’s body, outside and eventually inside too. There wasn’t far he could penetrate such a small form with a tongue that size, but he relished how the wizard quivered with excitement in his claws.

What he wanted most was not something Volo could provide, vengeance, or at least closure , were completely out of reach, but Ansur would only be deceiving himself to say he wasn’t deeply enjoying this unexpected encounter. There was something about this strange little man, something he couldn’t quite distinguish, something utterly fascinating.

Ansur projected the image of a warm lubricant across Volo’s whole body, chuckling softly at the wizard’s moan as he became completely coated from the shoulders down. 

Despite the safety of un-reality, Ansur was careful with his human lover, holding him gently between both front claws as he rolled onto his back and positioned the man over his aching arousal. With both lengths wound together, there would be no more teasing, only pure pleasure. 

Pleasure that Volothamp Geddarm was more than happy to provide. 

Volo followed the unspoken instruction and wrapped his arms around the huge appendage, holding on tight as the claws gripping him began to slide him up and down in slow and smooth motions. The friction against his own body was pleasing, the dragon’s tongue having left him desperate for more – a fair punishment for his game, he supposed. 

Still, he pressed himself as close as he could, hands seeking to find anywhere that brought those pleasant growls to Ansur’s throat, hoping that he might not only feel this from the outside. But then, this was his dreamscape, wasn’t it?

“This isn’t enough for you, is it? I…want more, and I believe we are of the same mind.” 

“Impossible,” Ansur found the same response from before, yet this time with far less conviction. 

“Reality might require the use of spells or scrolls, but if we are here, where my own mind could…” Volo focused for a moment, growing his body to alter the difference between them.

Held between Ansur’s claws, he was still smaller by far, the dragon’s length now measuring barely a little smaller than his entire forearm, but this would suffice.

“Use me,” he grinned, reaching down to prepare himself briefly with his hand – another wondrous benefit of existing within their minds. “I believe I can take you.” 

“Impo—...” The dragon stopped his own word before it could fully form on his tongue. Clearly he was accepting that what Volo deemed to be possibly deviated strongly from any sane men he had met in his long and storied lifetime. “Very well.” 

Volo felt himself lifted carefully, another wave of lubrication washing over what awaited him. “You cannot hurt me,” he repeated firmly, “I am quite capable of this.” 

Despite his hubris, Volo bit his lip as the tip penetrated his entrance.

Slowly but surely he was lowered onto the twisted appendages, the winding shapes of both filling him beyond what he had ever known possible, pleasure nearly shattering his entire mind in two as he let out a long sigh. This was what he had dreamed of, the fantasies he had wondered about since he first began to research magical creatures.

And oh how perfect it was to be fucked by a being as magnificent as a dragon, glittering scales and massive wings, powerful claws holding him tightly as he was moved up and down in long, purposeful motions, filled and empty over and over—

Ansur growled as pleasure began to surge between the two. Minds and fantasies entwined as they allowed their thoughts to flow freely.

They transcended the mere physical act that the dream permitted them to replicate, experiencing all at once every lustful desire, every salacious wish that either could conjure as they descended into a state of pure bliss. 

The beginning and end of each climax blurred too, as the legendary dragon and the infamous wizard lost themselves in the dream. 

Volo woke in a hot sweat, sheets drenched in…he wasn’t even certain if he had cast some of the cantrips and spells from his dreams or if it was entirely the result of the fantasies he had been having through the night. 

That’s all they were, just dreams…weren’t they? 

“Thank you, Volothamp Geddarm… I hope we might meet again, though I fear it is quite impossible.” 

“That word again – my good fellow, we need not be concerned with what is and is not deemed possible by more reasonable men—” 

“No, I am not…” Ansur’s voice paused, uncertain. “I will show you.”

The image of a great bronze dragon laying in a cave shimmered into Volo’s subconscious, though it wasn’t what he expected. This wasn’t the great and muscular beast who had… “My dear fellow, this cannot be…”

“I was betrayed, long ago… This is all that remains.” The body of the dragon had long been dead, though somehow Volo could feel the corpse smiling at him, a warmth projecting with the thought. “If only we had met back then…thank you for the pleasant dream.”

With that, the presence began to fade, even as Volo reached out into thin air, trying to grasp the lover from his dreams, wishing he could feel that phantom warmth of treasured scales just one more time…

But it was not to be. Like smoke in a breeze, Ansur drifted out of reach, leaving only a memory and the sound of footsteps approaching down the hallway. 

It seemed there would be no rest for the wizard.

Notes:

Fun fact! If you check Volo's personal dictionary you will find the word and definition for "impossible" crossed out and replaced with 2 simple words:

"Watch me."

-

I fear Volo is hijacking my whole mind here, this was meant to end at 2k words and no more but here we are, 3am and nearly 3k words. I swear I could feel the damnedable wizard staring at me and demanding I allow him to fully fuck a dragon at least once, so here we are, dear reader, at the end of my sanity and ready to begin writing the next slice of Volo pie~

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