There is some R-18 in this chapter.
Chapter 126 (~13k words):
– Erza –
Erza sat opposite her mother in one of the Fox Hole's corner booths with her hands wrapped around a warm porcelain tea cup.
The chaos of Tenrou Island already felt strangely distant, like a vivid nightmare she'd just jolted awake from. Rationally, she knew only a few hours had passed since Haru's massive fox form had carried them back to Magnolia, but emotionally it felt like months. Years. The knowledge that she and her guild had been one breath away from being sealed away for seven whole years sat like a dull weight in her chest.
She stared down at the tea cooling between her palms and let herself breathe.
Across from her sat Irene Belserion. Her mother. The woman was a paradox of terrifying power and suffocating affection.
"Thank you," Erza said, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her chest. "For saving us. For saving the Master... even if Haru did let the Council drag him away…" she pointed out with a slight deadpan.
"He needed a vacation," Irene waved a hand dismissively, a smirk playing on her lips. "And Mavis needed a meal. Speaking of which..."
Erza followed Irene's gaze toward the counter. There, Haru was, the Kitsune—a Demon Lord of unimaginable power—was currently humming a tune while plating a massive mound of pudding for Mavis Vermillion.
The First Master, no longer a ghost but a living, breathing girl, was practically vibrating with joy on her barstool, her small legs kicking the air.
Seeing them safe brought a wave of relief crashing down on Erza, but it was quickly followed by a sharp, biting shame. She clenched her fists on the table.
She was Titania. She was supposed to be the Queen of the Fairies, the shield that protected the guild. And yet, on Tenrou Island, she had been pushed to her absolute limit. Azuma had nearly broken her. Hades—Master Precht—had been a mountain they couldn't climb. If it hadn't been for outside help, for the sudden intervention of a literal god-like being and her mother, they would have died. Or worse.
"You are thinking too loudly," Irene noted, her golden eyes narrowing. "Stop berating yourself. It is unbecoming of a dragon."
"I'm not a dragon," Erza retorted automatically, though the protest felt weaker than usual whenever her mother kept trying to get her to embrace her dragon side more and more over the past. "And I wasn't strong enough. Grimoire Heart... they invaded our holy ground. I couldn't crush them. I couldn't protect my family without help. That isn't strength, Mother. It's failure."
Irene set her glass down with a sharp clack. "It is merely experience. You are young, Erza. You fought a man who had delved into the abyss of magic for a century. The fact that you are sitting here, breathing, is a testament to your power." Irene leaned forward, her expression darkening slightly. "Besides, do not mistake my actions for charity. I did not save your guild because I care for their well-being."
Erza stiffened. "I know."
"And," Irene added, her tone lightening as she picked up her wine again, "Haru is rather fond of your little friends. I suppose that counts for something."
Erza felt the tension bleed out of her shoulders. She sighed, leaning back against the booth. "I haven't been here in so long. I told Haru... I promised him I would visit. Even when Master Makarov and the First forbade it, I intended to sneak away."
"But you didn't," Irene pointed out.
"The war with the Oración Seis, the Edolas incident, the S-Class trials..." Erza listed the catastrophes that had consumed her life recently. "One battle after another. I broke my promise."
"He doesn't hold it against you," Irene said softly. "And neither do I."
Erza blinked. "You knew?"
Irene's smile widened, sharp and predatory. "My dear, I have been watching you almost every day…"
Erza felt a blush rise to her cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and indignation. "You... you were stalking me?"
"Do not look so scandalized. Did you really think I would leave my daughter unsupervised after finding her again? After finding out what happened in your past…" Irene said, looking momentarily saddened about the fact her daughter ended up a slave for years/
Despite the moral ambiguity of her mother, there was a safety in knowing that the woman was doing her best to keep Erza safe. She turned her head away from Irene's knowing grin and looked back toward the kitchen.
Haru was wiping down the counter, he was laughing at Mavis getting dragged away by Haru's little sister Kunou to a table full of other little blonde girls. She found her eyes momentarily unable to look away from him.
Her heart gave a traitorous thump against her ribs.
I thought the distance would help, Erza thought, her eyes tracing the line of his jaw. I thought if I stayed away, if I focused on my duties as an S-Class mage, these feelings would fade.
"He is handsome, isn't he?"
The voice was right in her ear. Erza jumped, realizing Irene had leaned across the table, resting her chin on her hand, watching Erza watch Haru.
"I—I wasn't staring," Erza stammered, her armor clinking as she shifted. "I was merely observing the... the way he cleans off his bar counter. Yes—that's it—he is very efficient and skilled with that rag…" she mumbled, not fooling herself or Irene.
"You were undressing him with your eyes, daughter," Irene purred, looking delighted. "And frankly, I don't blame you. The man has stamina that would break a lesser woman. A dragon, however..." Irene licked her lips, a gesture so explicitly carnal that Erza's face turned the same shade as her hair.
"Mother!" Erza hissed, glancing around to make sure Mavis hadn't heard. "Have you no shame?"
"None whatsoever," Irene replied breezily. "I know what I want, and I take it. And I know what you want." Irene reached out, her cool fingers brushing against Erza's hand. The gesture was surprisingly gentle, grounding Erza in the moment. "You want him," Irene stated, not as a question, but as a fact.
Erza looked down at the table, unable to meet her mother's gaze. "He... he has a harem. He has you. He has others."
"So?" Irene shrugged. "Dragons do not share easily, it is true. But Haru is... special. And besides," Irene leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial, sultry whisper that sent a shiver down Erza's spine. "It is not unheard of in history for a King to take both the Queen and the Princess."
– Haru –
I paused mid-motion. From the corner booth, a high-pitched, mortified squeak had just cut through the ambient noise of the restaurant—a sound so uncharacteristically girlish for the mighty Titania that it nearly made me drop my rag.
My golden fox ears swiveled instinctively atop my head, being a Kitsune meant that even from across the room, I could hear everything most people were talking about unless I tried hard to tune them out.
"It is not unheard of in history for a King to take both the Queen and the Princess."
Heat rushed into my cheeks, and I felt a distinct, treacherous throb of blood rush straight to my groin. I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting to keep my composure as my ten golden tails bristled involuntarily behind me, fluffing up in a wave of flustered agitation.
Damn that woman. Irene knew exactly what she was doing. She knew I could hear her.
I risked a glance toward their booth, keeping my expression carefully neutral, though I suspected my flushed skin gave me away. Erza Scarlet looked as though her soul had temporarily left her body. Her face was a brilliant, burning crimson that perfectly matched her long, beautiful hair. Her mouth hung slightly open, her wide brown eyes staring at her mother in absolute shock, while her armored hands gripped the edge of the table so hard I heard the wood creak in protest.
Irene, on the other hand, looked very pleased with herself. Her eyes flickered toward me for a fraction of a second, locking with mine. A slow, knowing smirk curled her plush lips, and she gave me a wink.
Needing a distraction, I aggressively scrubbed a spot on the counter that was already clean and shifted my attention elsewhere.
My gaze landed on the "little girls' table" near the window.
Mavis Vermillion, the legendary First Master of Fairy Tail, was currently pouting. And it was adorable. She caught me looking and immediately shot me a glare. She puffed out her cheeks.
Her glare faltered as Kunou, my energetic little sister, suddenly threw her arms around Mavis's neck. "Come on, Mavis-chan!" Kunou chirped, her own nine golden tails wagging furiously behind her. "You have to tell us more about the magic island! And did you really sleep in a crystal for a hundred years? Did you have to pee? Tanya-chan says you probably didn't have to pee, but I think that sounds fake!"
Tanya Degurechaff, sitting across from them with a cup of black coffee that was far too large for her small hands, let out a long, suffering sigh. "I said no such thing, Kunou," Tanya grumbled, her blue eyes dull with exhaustion. "I said metabolic functions are likely suspended during magical stasis. Please do not drag me into your scatological debates."
Beside them, Princess Myrcella giggled behind her hand. She looked happy, except, her eyes flicking toward me with that shy admiration I was trying very hard to ignore.
Mavis looked overwhelmed, her head swiveling between the exuberant fox girl and the grim military child. She opened her mouth to argue, probably to assert her dignity as a Guild Master, but Kunou shoved a spoonful of pudding into her mouth before she could speak. Mavis's eyes widened, and she melted, her resistance crumbling under the assault of sugar.
I chuckled softly, turning back to the bar. At least they were getting along.
BAM!
The wooden door of the restaurant was thrown open.
"WE'RE HERE!"
A group from Fairy Tail arrived.
"HARU!" Natsu bellowed, his voice booming through the dining room loud enough to make several patrons jump. He pointed a finger at me, the tip igniting with a small flicker of fire. "I smelled the food from down the street! FEED ME!"
Hovering over his shoulder was the blue cat, Happy, who waved a paw cheerfully. "Aye! We're starving! Do you have fish? Big fish? Magical fish?"
Walking in behind the loud duo was Gray Fullbuster. "Put a sock in it, Flame Brain," Gray grumbled, elbowing Natsu. "We're in a restaurant, not the guild hall. Try to have some manners!"
"Shut up, Ice Princess!" Natsu snapped back without looking, headbutting Gray in the shoulder. "I'm hungry! And after I eat, I'm gonna fight Haru! He turned into a giant fox monster earlier! I gotta see if I can beat him now!"
Bringing up the rear was Lucy Heartfilia. She looked better—probably after a quick nap and a hot shower. She wore a sleeveless white top and a blue skirt that showed off her long, shapely legs, her side ponytail bouncing as she walked. Her brown eyes widened as she took in the interior of the Fox Hole, scanning the warm wood and the strange mix of customers.
She stepped around Natsu and Gray, who were already devolving into a shoving match in the entryway.
"I am so sorry," Lucy said, offering me an apologetic, weary smile as she approached the counter. She gestured helplessly at the two idiots behind her. "We tried to stop them, but once Natsu caught the scent of meat, there was no holding him back. Is it... is it okay if we sit?"
I sighed, shaking my head with a small smile. "It's fine, Lucy. I wouldn't have expected anything less."
"FIGHT ME, HARU!" Natsu roared again, breaking away from Gray and charging toward the counter. He slammed his hands down on the wood, leaning into my face. "Come on! Just one round! I wanna see a Demon Lord's power!"
I stared at him, my golden eyes narrowing slightly. My tails swayed lazily behind me, projecting an air of absolute calm against his chaotic energy. "Sit down, Natsu," I said evenly. "Eat first. If you wreck my restaurant, I'll have Irene turn you into a newt."
Natsu paled slightly at the mention of Irene, glancing nervously toward the corner booth where the Dragon Witch was sipping her wine. He gulped, his bravado deflating instantly. "A-Aye, sir," he mumbled.
"Good," I said, gesturing to a large round table in the center of the room. "Take a seat. I'll get you guys a menu."
…I could feel the shift in atmosphere. The Fox Hole was growing livelier by the moment, and it was clear a spontaneous celebration was inevitable. More familiar faces arrived, bringing smiles, laughter, and warmth into the restaurant's already welcoming environment.
I pulled out my phone, quickly sending messages to several of my friends and lovers, inviting them to join the fun if they were free.
A moment later, the front door swung open, and in walked Agnar, his massive frame filling the entranceway entirely. His broad shoulders and imposing stature seemed almost too large for the cozy restaurant. He grinned widely, eyes brightening as they met mine. "Haru, my friend!" he boomed cheerfully, his deep voice echoing through the dining room. He stepped toward me, spreading his muscled arms wide.
I matched his grin and embraced him firmly in return, feeling the hard strength of his powerful body as we clapped each other warmly on the back. "Good to see you, Agnar," I said sincerely, enjoying the simple camaraderie between us.
He pulled away slightly, clapping me once more on the shoulder. "It's been too long. I was starting to wonder if you had forgotten your favorite Nord!"
I chuckled deeply, shaking my head. "Never. I don't think anyone could forget you, Agnar. Too bad you're not my favorite Nord, though. That's reserved for Aela."
Aela and Serana appeared and walked inside next.
"Haru," Aela purred softly, wrapping her strong arms around my neck. Before I could even respond, her soft lips claimed mine passionately, warm and urgent. Her slender but powerful body pressed tightly against mine, and I felt her full, round breasts mold deliciously to my chest through her hunting leathers.
Reluctantly, she finally pulled back. "I've missed you," she murmured softly, trailing her fingertips slowly down my chest.
I leaned down and nuzzled her ear gently, making her shiver slightly. "I missed you too, my wolf."
After seating Aela at the bar and pouring her a large glass of rich Nord mead, I carefully poured Serana a delicate crystal goblet filled with her favorite blood wine. They both smiled appreciatively, sipping their drinks while gazing around the bustling room.
Meanwhile, Agnar had already made his way across the restaurant to where the Fairy Tail members sat. That was because I gave him a quick rundown, explaining that they all almost died today facing a powerful dragon. Of course a dragon hunter like him would want to know more.
It was only a few minutes later that Natsu started shouting, drawing attention to their table. "What was that, you liar! There's no way you could have killed Acnologia—that scary black and blue dragon! He was way too strong!"
Agnar merely laughed heartily, completely unfazed by Natsu's fiery temper. He puffed out his muscular chest confidently, grinning boastfully. "I would have relished the opportunity to slay such a magnificent beast! And afterward, I'd mount its great skull proudly above my hearth, as a true Nord should! Maybe I should give you a demonstration of how I would do that!?"
"Bring it on, muscle head!" Natsu shouted defiantly, challenging the massive Dragonborn without hesitation.
The two men grappled fiercely, sending a few chairs scattering loudly across the floor. I didn't like fighting in my restaurant. Chairs were tossed aside as they slammed powerful punches into each other, and it wasn't long until I sensed the fight was going to escalate with magic. Which was not allowed in the Fox Hole.
"FUS RO—"
"FIRE DRAGON'S—"
Shimmer.
Before the first syllable of power could fully leave Agnar's lips, and before Natsu could unleash his breath attack, the air between them warped.
A cascade of beautiful, glittering blue starlight flooded the center of the room, swirling like a localized nebula. It was cold, silent, and immensely heavy with magical pressure.
Both Natsu and Agnar vanished instantly.
One second, two powerhouses were about to wreck my dining room, the next, they were simply... gone. Teleported away to who knows where…
Motes of starlight coalesced, forming the blue visage of a beautiful four armed witch in front of me. Ranni the Witch materialized, sitting primly on the barstool. Her four delicate blue hands were folded neatly in her lap, her oversized snowy witch hat slightly askew.
"There is no fighting allowed in my eternal consort's restaurant," Ranni stated, her voice calm, melodic, and layered with an authority that brooked no argument. "If those two wish to behave like unruly beasts, they may do so in the void of space for a few minutes until their tempers cool." She turned her head slowly, looking up at me. Her expression softened.
I looked at her—my beautiful, terrifyingly powerful Moon Goddess who had just casually tossed a Dragonborn and a Dragon Slayer into a pocket dimension like they were unruly toddlers.
A smile spread across my face. "Thank you for saving my furniture. You have amazing timing as always, Ranni. I'm glad you decided to come."
A deep, vivid shade of indigo bloomed across her pale blue cheeks. "Twas... twas nothing," she stammered, averting her gaze. "I merely... I wished to ensure thy establishment remained peaceful. For thee." Her blush deepened, traveling down her slender neck.
"And that's why you're the best," I whispered, leaning over the counter to press a soft kiss to her forehead..
Ranni let out a small, high-pitched squeak, her face burning darker, and I chuckled. It was adorable how the most powerful woman I knew could be so cute and shy at the same time.
The energy in the Fox Hole shifted to full blown celebration. It wasn't just a dinner anymore, it was a collision of worlds, a chaotic symphony of clinking tankards, roaring laughter, and the mouth-watering sizzle of premium meat hitting hot iron. The air grew thick and heavy, saturated not just with the scent of roasted dragon steak and spiced mead, but with the potent, throbbing auras of powerful beings gathered in one place.
I stood behind the counter, a towel slung over my shoulder, watching the madness unfold with a satisfied grin. To my left, more Fairy Tail mages had shown up and were currently engaged in a drinking contest with the Companions from Skyrim.
Cana Alberona was going shot-for-shot with Farkas, slamming down mugs of ale with a ferocity that had the werewolf looking genuinely concerned for his liver.
The heavy wooden door swung open, and Yasaka stepped through. She had shed her formal shrine maiden robes for something slightly more casual but infinitely more alluring—a silk kimono of deep midnight blue, patterned with falling cherry blossoms that seemed to shimmer in the low light. The fabric hugged her voluptuous figure with sinful perfection, clinging to the heavy swell of her breasts and the devastating curve of her hips.
Her golden eyes swept over the crowd, sparkling with mischief and warmth, before locking onto me.
"Mom," I called out, wiping my hands and leaning against the bar. "I didn't think you'd make it."
Yasaka sauntered toward the bar. "Oh, Haru, you know I would never miss a party," she purred, reaching across the counter to cup my cheek. "Besides, I'll take any excuse to skip off of work and spend more time with my precious children!"
"Mama!" A blur of gold and white shot through the crowd. Kunou, my adorable little sister, came sprinting from the 'little girls' table,' weaving expertly between the legs of drunken Nords and wizards. She slammed into Yasaka's legs, wrapping her small arms around the silk of our mother's kimono. "You came!"
Yasaka's expression softened into pure maternal adoration. She bent down, scooping Kunou up into her arms, settling the girl on her hip. "Of course I came, my little jewel. Are you having fun?"
"Yes! And guess what?" Kunou pointed excitedly toward the corner table, where a very small, very blonde, and very pouting Mavis Vermillion was currently nursing a cup of tea. "I made a new friend! Her name is Mavis, and she's twelve years old! Or... well, maybe younger and she's just pretending to be a big girl? She's kinda short."
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
Yasaka blinked, her gaze following Kunou's finger. She looked at Mavis—Yasaka's golden eyes widened slightly with recognition, and then a sly, knowing smile curled her lips. She knew exactly who Mavis was. "Is that so?" Yasaka crooned, playing along perfectly. She walked over to the table, her hips swaying mesmerizingly, carrying Kunou with her. "Well, isn't that wonderful? It is always good to make friends your own age."
The poor First Master looked completely overwhelmed by Yasaka's overwhelming presence—and perhaps a little intimidated by the sheer size of Yasaka's... assets... compared to her own. "I am not twelve!" Mavis squeaked, standing up on her chair to try and gain some height. "I am the First Master! I am a hundred and eighteen!"
"Sure you are, sweetie," Yasaka said soothingly, reaching out to pat Mavis on the head. "It's good to have an imagination."
Mavis let out a strangled noise of frustration and slumped back into her chair, defeated, while Kunou giggled and sat back down with her friends.
I shook my head, turning my attention back to Ranni.
"I suppose enough time hath passed. The silence was pleasant, but a party requires noise, does it not?"
I raised an eyebrow. "You going to let them back in? I wonder how they are doing? Does the void have air?"
"It has air—If I will it to have air!" Ranni declared proudly, "and I can bring them back if I must," she sighed, feigning reluctance. Ranni raised two of her hands. With a sharp, crisp snap of her fingers, the air in the center of the restaurant distorted. A swirl of beautiful, freezing blue starlight erupted from nowhere, spinning into a vortex. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees in a second.
THUD. THUD.
Two bodies dropped from the rift, crashing onto the wooden floorboards in a heap of tangled limbs and frost.
Natsu Dragneel and Agnar the Dragonborn lay sprawled on the ground, shivering violently. Their clothes were covered in a thin layer of ice, and their breath came out in thick white clouds.
"C-c-cold..." Natsu chattered, his teeth clicking together. He tried to light a fire in his hand, but it only sparked weakly before dying out. "So... d-dark... no sound... just... stars..."
Agnar groaned, rolling onto his back. His beard was frozen solid, stiff as a board. "By Ysmir..." he wheezed. "The void... it stares back. And it also had... no mead."
Collectively, the room erupted into laughter.
"Look at you two!" Aela barked, slapping the bar counter hard with laughter. "Bestied by a bit of cold! Get up and drink, you milk-drinkers!"
"Come on, my dear husband. You were only gone for a few moments, I was trapped for thousands of years at one point," Serana said, helping her large husband up off the floor. "We missed my apprentice's second task at his school tournament, let's go congratulate him for winning," she said and dragged Agnar over to Harry and Hermione's table.
Yasaka finished entertaining Kunou and the other children, her laughter fading into a soft, contented smile as she straightened up. She turned from the table and began to glide toward the bar.
She approached the high stools where Ranni was seated. Yasaka claimed the space beside Ranni.
"It is so lovely to see you, Ranni," Yasaka began. She turned on her stool, crossing her legs and leaning in slightly, resting her chin on her palm. "And I must thank you for everything you have done for my family…" Yasaka reached out, her hand hovering for a moment before she gently placed it over one of Ranni's lower hands.
Ranni stiffened slightly, though I saw her shoulders relax a fraction of a second later. She turned her doll-like face toward Yasaka. "Think nothing of it, Lady Yasaka," Ranni replied with a faint smile. "You have no idea how much Haru has done for me in the past…"
I lingered for a moment longer at the bar as I watched my mom and the most powerful woman in my life interact. It was a sight that would have brought nations to their knees, yet here, in the warm, ambient glow of the Fox Hole, it was simply a conversation between peers.
"I must admit," Yasaka said softly, her voice a melodious purr that cut through the noise of the party. She swirled the sake in her cup, her golden eyes fixed on Ranni with genuine interest. "I have heard much of the Lands Between from Haru. It sounds like a harsh realm, ruled by shattered laws. To govern such a place... it must be a heavy burden for one so slight."
Ranni adjusted her oversized snowy witch hat, her four blue hands resting gracefully in her lap. "The path of the stars is indeed a lonely one," she admitted, her voice echoing with that strange, dual-layered resonance that I found adorable. "But the Order of the Moon shall bring quiet to the frenzy. Besides... I am not entirely alone in my endeavors anymore." Her gaze flickered briefly to me before darting away, a faint flush of indigo coloring her cheeks.
Yasaka smiled, a knowing, maternal expression softening her features. "And your mother? Queen Rennala? Haru mentioned she was doing a lot better."
Ranni's expression brightened, a rare look of pure, unguarded joy breaking through her usual stoicism. "Oh, yes. The 'Soul Food,' he called it. For an age, my mother's mind was fractured, lost in the amber of the past. But that dish... it did not just fill her belly. It stitched the frayed edges of her soul back together." Ranni placed a hand over her chest. "To speak with her again, truly speak with her... it is one of many gifts I can never repay no matter how much I try."
Awe, her genuine words made me feel all warm and fuzzy.
"A mother's bond is sacred," Yasaka agreed, reaching out to gently touch Ranni's arm. "I look forward to meeting her one day. Us Queens must stick together, after all."
Satisfied that Ranni was in good hands, I pushed off the counter. The kitchen was running on autopilot right now.
I glanced back to see three of my Shadow Clones moving in a blur of synchronized culinary violence. One was juggling three woks simultaneously, the flames licking high into the air as he stir-fried vegetables with dragon meat, while another was expertly plating delicate desserts with surgical precision. They had the food handled.
I began to weave my way through the crowded dining room.
To my left, I passed a large booth dominated by devils. Rias Gremory, my beautiful devil fiancée, sat at the center like a queen holding court. She looked devastating tonight. She had foregone her usual school uniform for a casual crimson dress that clung to her hourglass figure like a second skin, the fabric straining to contain her generous bust while accentuating the narrow curve of her waist. Her long, blood-red hair cascaded down her back in silken waves, catching the light with every movement.
She caught my eye as I passed. Her eyes lit up, and she offered me a soft, intimate smile—one that was reserved solely for me.
"Enjoying yourself, Haru-kun?" Akeno Himejima purred from beside her. The shrine maiden was licking whipped cream off a strawberry with deliberate, agonizing slowness, her violet eyes dancing with mischief as she locked gazes with me. "Or are you just walking around to let everyone admire the view?"
"Behave, Akeno," I teased back, giving Rias a quick wink which made the heiress blush prettily. "I'm just making the rounds. Don't cause too much trouble."
"No promises~" Akeno called after me.
I continued deeper into the room, sidestepping a very drunk Cana Alberona who was currently trying to arm-wrestle Farkas. I would bet 100 yen that those two were probably gonna wake up in the same bed tomorrow morning with no recollections of what happened tonight….
Enri Emmot, the simple village girl from Ainz's world, stood up as I approached.
Seeing her in the Kuoh Academy uniform made me smile. She was clearly enjoying a modern school life. And she deserved it. She looked adorable, looking slightly out of place but trying her best to fit in.
"Lord Haru!" Enri exclaimed, her face flushing a deep, ripe tomato red as she realized I was looking at her outfit. She tugged self-consciously at the hem of the short skirt. "I... um... Does it look strange? I feel a bit exposed."
"You look fantastic, Enri," I said honestly, stopping in front of her. "The uniform suits you. You look like a proper student."
Her blush deepened, spreading down her neck. "T-Thank you! But... um... are you sure you don't need help?" She fidgeted with her hands, her work ethic warring with the festive atmosphere. "I see so many people... I could put on an apron!"
"I want to help too!" Asia chimed in, raising her hand enthusiastically. It seemed like she and Enri were becoming good friends at Kuoh. The school was definitely more peaceful without Issei there, perving the place up. I know that Rimuru's world is all about reincarnation, so I hope he gets reborn as a toad for everything he did.
I looked at Enri. Her brown eyes were wide and earnest, filled with that unwavering loyalty and desire to be useful that made her such a natural leader back in her village. It was tempting to accept—she looked cute when she was determined—but tonight was a celebration.
"Not tonight, Enri," I said softly. I reached out and placed my hand on top of her hair. Enri froze at the contact, her shoulders rising sharply. "Tonight is about relaxing," I told her, my fingers gently ruffling her hair. "You don't have to slave away your teenage years as my waitress, you're a guest. I want you to eat good food, talk to Asia, and enjoy the party. Can you do that for me?"
Enri seemed to malfunction. Steam practically erupted from her ears as she leaned instinctively into my touch. Her eyes swirled with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. "Y-Yes! Yes, Haru-san! I will... I will enjoy it with all my might!"
"Good girl." I gave her one last pat before pulling my hand away.
Leaving a flustered Enri and a giggling Asia behind, I finally reached my destination, the corner booth occupied by the Belserion women.
The atmosphere around this table was different from the rest of the party.
Erza Scarlet and Irene Belserion sat opposite each other.
Erza was still wearing her Heart Kreuz armor, though she had removed the gauntlets. Her posture was rigid, her back straight as a rod, her hands resting nervously on her knees under the table. She looked beautiful, her sharp features softened by the warm light, but there was a fragility in her eyes tonight that pulled at my heartstrings.
Across from her, Irene Belserion was the picture of relaxed, predatory grace. The Dragon Witch lounged against the booth's padded leather, her legs crossed elegantly. Her outfit was, as always, incredibly bold—the revealing, primitive-style garb that left her midriff and vast expanses of her thighs exposed, accentuating her pale, luscious skin and her voluptuous, mature figure.
As I approached, both women looked up simultaneously.
Irene's amber eyes locked onto me instantly. Her lips curled into a slow, sultry smile that promised trouble. It was a look of pure, unadulterated hunger, and she made no effort to hide it from her daughter. She looked me up and down, her gaze lingering on my arms, then my waist, as if she were mentally unwrapping a present.
"Well, well," Irene purred, her voice dripping with honeyed amusement. "The chef finally emerges from behind the counter. We were just talking about you, Haru."
I don't think they'd actually stopped talking about me the entire time. Irene was a very persistent woman.
Erza, on the other hand, looked like a deer caught in headlights. Her cheeks were dusted with a prominent pink flush that clashed delightfully with her red hair. She looked up at me through her long lashes, her expression a chaotic mix of relief, affection, and intense nervousness.
"H-Haru," Erza stammered, her voice lacking its usual commanding tone. She reached for her tea cup, her fingers trembling slightly. "I... we... Mother was just..." She trailed off, unable to repeat whatever scandalous thing Irene had likely just said.
I smirked, resting my hand on the edge of their table, leaning in slightly. " talking about me? Only good things, I hope. I'd hate to think my reputation is being tarnished in my own establishment."
Irene chuckled, a low, throaty sound. She reached out, her long, manicured fingernail tracing a circle on the back of my hand. "Oh, very good things, my dear. I was just explaining to Erza the benefits of... expanding one's horizons." She winked at me, her meaning unmistakably clear. "And sharing."
Erza choked on her tea.
….
(R-18 ahead)
Hours later…
The chaos of the Fox Hole's impromptu celebration had finally faded into the silence of the night. The partying and drinking contests were over, and the guests had either stumbled home or passed out on the floor and would be sent home whenever they woke up.
Now, in the sanctity of my private palace bedroom, the atmosphere was thick with a different kind of heat. It was heavy, musky, and suffocatingly erotic.
"Hah... ah... Irene..."
A ragged groan tore from my throat, vibrating deep in my chest before escaping into the dim light of the room. I was sitting on the edge of my massive bed, my legs spread wide, my hands gripping the silk sheets so tightly my knuckles were white. Behind me, my ten golden fox tails were not their usual calm, fluffy appendages—they were swaying and twitching erratically in time with the waves of pleasure crashing over my nervous system.
Between my spread thighs, the Dragon Witch was on her knees.
Irene Belserion was completely nude. Her clothes—that scandalous outfit she usually wore—lay in a discarded heap near the door. Her pale, creamy skin glowed in the soft moonlight filtering through the balcony doors, every curve of her voluptuous body on display. Her wide hips, the soft roll of her waist, and her heavy, pendulous breasts that swayed gently with her rhythmic movements were a feast for the eyes.
But my focus was entirely on her mouth.
Irene's head bobbed up and down with a wet, sloppy enthusiasm that betrayed her regal status. Her lips were wrapped tight around my erection, forming a seal that felt like heaven.
I watched, mesmerized, as her cheeks hollowed with every suction-filled drag. She took me deep, her throat relaxing to accommodate my length, before sliding back up to tease the sensitive head with a swirl of her tongue.
Schlurp. Gawk. Squelch.
The wet, obscene noises of her ministrations were the only sounds in the room, amplified by the silence. She looked up at me as she worked, her amber eyes burning with a predatory, possessive hunger. There was no shame in her gaze, only a wicked delight in reducing a Demon Lord to a groaning mess.
I reached down, tangling my fingers into her thick scarlet hair, guiding her rhythm. She hummed against my cock, the vibration traveling straight down my spine, making my toes curl against the rug.
"Fuck... you're good at that," I gasped, my hips bucking instinctively to meet her thrusts.
Irene pulled back slowly, the suction tight until the very last second. Her lips released the head of my cock with a loud, wet pop. A thick string of saliva and pre-cum connected my tip to her mouth, glistening like silver in the darkness before she swiped her tongue out to catch it, swallowing it with a satisfied smirk.
She didn't stop, though. Her hand immediately replaced her mouth, her long, slender fingers wrapping around my shaft. She began to pump me, her grip firm and slick with her own spit, her thumb circling the weeping slit at the tip of my cock.
"Am I?" she purred, her voice husky and low. She leaned her cheek against my thigh, looking up at me through her lashes. "I simply take care of what belongs to me. A Queen must ensure her King is... satisfied." Then, her eyes flickered past me, toward the corner of the room. Her smirk widened, becoming sharper, more dangerous. "Isn't that right, Princess Erza?"
I turned my head, following her gaze, though my brain was still half-fogged with lust.
Standing in the shadows near the wardrobe was Erza Scarlet. Unlike her mother, Erza was fully dressed. She was still wearing her Heart Kreuz armor. She looked completely out of place in the charged sexual atmosphere of the bedroom, like a knight who had wandered into a succubus's den.
Her face, usually so stern and composed, was currently burning a shade of red that rivaled her hair. Her brown eyes were wide, darting frantically between my throbbing, glistening cock in Irene's hand and her mother's naked, unapologetic form.
"I... I..." Erza stammered, her voice barely a squeak. She took a half-step back, her armored greaves clanking loudly against the floorboards. "I sh-should go. I shouldn't be... this is... improper."
"Nonsense," Irene crooned. She squeezed my cock hard, making me hiss in pleasure, before turning her body fully toward her daughter. She didn't bother to cover herself. Her large breasts jiggled with the movement, her nipples hard and dark. She rested her other hand on her own thigh, fingers digging into her soft flesh. "You followed us, didn't you? You watched us walk up the stairs. You watched us enter the room. You stood outside the door for five minutes listening before you finally worked up the courage to follow us in."
Erza flinched as if struck physically. "I was... purely ensuring... security..." was the best excuse she could come up with.
"Liar," Irene said softly, the word dripping with affection rather than malice. "You're a dragon, Erza. Or at least, you have the potential to be one. And dragons do not shy away from their desires. They take. They hoard. They consume."
Irene looked back at me, her eyes darkening. "And look at him, daughter. Is he not a treasure worth hoarding?"
I leaned back on my hands, my chest heaving slightly as the cool air hit my wet skin. I looked at Erza, letting my own desire show plainly on my face. "She's right, Erza," I said, my voice rough. "You don't have to stand over there in the dark. You're safe here. With us."
Erza swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. Her gaze was glued to my midsection. I could practically hear the war being fought in her mind—the disciplined S-Class Mage battling against the young woman who had been lonely for far too long.
"I don't... I don't know what to do," Erza whispered, her vulnerability breaking my heart and turning me on simultaneously.
"Come here," Irene commanded, though her tone was gentle. She patted the empty space on the bed beside her. "Come closer. Let us see you."
Erza moved stiffly, like a marionette. Clank. Clank. Clank. The sound of her metal boots was heavy in the quiet room. She stopped a few feet away from the bed, looming over her kneeling mother.
Irene reached out, her hand trailing down Erza's metal greave, her fingers cold against the steel but her touch igniting a shiver in Erza.
"This armor," Irene murmured distastefully, tapping her fingernail against the chest plate. Ting. "It is so cold. So hard. You wear it to protect your heart, I know. But you don't need protection here. Not from him. And certainly not from me." Irene looked up, her amber eyes locking with Erza's. "Take it off."
Erza froze. "M-Mother?"
"Strip, Erza," Irene ordered, her voice dropping an octave, commanding absolute obedience. She didn't stop stroking me as she spoke, the wet squelch-squelch of her hand on my shaft serving as a rhythmic backdrop to her command. "Show him what lies beneath that steel shell. Show Haru the woman, not the warrior."
Erza's breath hitched. Her trembling hands rose slowly to her chest. Her fingers, usually so dexterous with a sword, fumbled clumsily with the leather straps and buckles of her breastplate. "I... yes," Erza breathed. With a sharp click, the first buckle came undone. Then another. Erza hissed as she worked the heavy steel plate loose. She pulled it forward, the metal sliding off her shoulders with a heavy rasp. She let it drop.
CLANG.
The heavy chest plate hit the floor, vibrating the tatami.
Underneath, she wore a simple white bandage wrapping that bound her breasts, pressing them flat, though the swell of her cleavage pushed against the fabric. Her skin was flushed pink, a fine sheen of sweat coating her collarbone from the heat of the room and her own embarrassment.
"Good," I praised, my eyes raking over her exposed shoulders and midriff. "Keep going, Erza."
My praise seemed to galvanize her. She bit her lip, her eyes locking onto mine with a desperate intensity. She reached for her gauntlets next. Snap. Slide. Clatter. The metal arm guards joined the pile on the floor. Then the pauldrons.
Soon, her upper body was free of metal. She stood there in just the white chest wrap and her blue skirt, her arms hugged self-consciously across her stomach.
"The skirt," Irene urged, her hand speeding up on my cock, her rhythm matching her impatience. "And those terrible boots. I want to see everything."
Erza kicked off her greaves and boots, her bare feet finally touching the soft rug. Her hands went to the waistband of her skirt. She hesitated for only a second before unzipping it. The blue fabric pooled around her ankles, and she stepped out of it with a grace that belonged to a dancer.
My breath caught in my throat.
Erza stood before us in her underwear—utilitarian white panties that did little to hide the powerful curve of her hips and the dark triangle of shadow between her thighs. Her legs were long, toned, and muscular, scarred faintly from years of battle, but to me, those scars only enhanced her beauty.
"Beautiful," I whispered.
Erza's knees knocked together slightly. "I... is this... acceptable?"
Irene laughed, a rich, throaty sound. She finally let go of my cock, leaving it throbbing and unsatisfied in the cool air. She rose from her knees, her naked body uncoiling with fluid grace. She stepped toward her daughter, closing the distance between them.
The contrast was staggering. Irene, in her more mature, voluptuous, naked glory, standing toe-to-toe with Erza, the younger, fitter warrior who was still hiding behind scraps of white cloth. Irene reached out, her hands cupping Erza's face. She leaned in, pressing her forehead against Erza's.
"It is more than acceptable, my little fairy," Irene whispered. "But you are not done. Those bandages... they restrict you." Irene's hands slid down Erza's neck, over her shoulders, and found the knot of the bandages on her back. "Let yourself breathe," Irene murmured.
With a swift tug, the knot came undone.
Erza gasped as the tension released. The white cloth loosened, unraveling from her torso. It fell away, drifting to the floor like a dead leaf.
Erza's breasts spilled free, heavy and round, their pale weight settling naturally. Her nipples were a soft, rosy pink, already hardened into tight peaks from the cool air and the intensity of our gazes.
Irene stepped back, giving me a full, unobstructed view.
Erza didn't cover herself this time. She stood tall, her hands clenched at her sides, her chest heaving as she hyperventilated slightly. She looked at me—truly looked at me—with a mixture of fear and raw, desperate longing.
"Haru," she whispered, her voice trembling.
I extended my hand toward her, my palm open. "Come here, Titania. Let me worship you."
Irene smirked. She moved behind Erza, placing her hands on her daughter's bare shoulders, and gently pushed her forward.
"Go on," Irene whispered into Erza's ear, her voice dripping with venomous sweetness. "Claim your place, daughter. Before I decide to keep him all to myself again."
The tension in the room was palpable, a thick, electric charge that seemed to radiate from Erza's trembling form. She stood before me, stripped of her armor, vulnerable in nothing but her white cotton panties, her eyes wide and pleading.
I didn't let her suffer in that uncertainty for another second.
I reached out, my hands sliding around her waist. Her skin was incredibly soft, hot to the touch, and damp with nervous perspiration. I pulled her forward, closing the small gap between us. Her body collided with mine—a delicious impact of soft curves meeting hard muscle.
"H-Haru!" she gasped, her hands instinctively coming up to rest on my chest.
I didn't speak. Instead, I wrapped my arms firmly around her back, locking her against me.
The sensation was maddeningly good. My erection, already hard and weeping from Irene's mouth, pressed eagerly against her lower stomach. Through the thin fabric of her panties, I could feel the heat radiating from her crotch, but it was the contact of my throbbing length against her toned, rock-hard abdominal muscles that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my brain.
I leaned up and captured her lips.
It wasn't a gentle, testing kiss. I slanted my mouth over hers, swallowing her surprised squeak. Her lips tasted of the herbal tea she'd been drinking earlier, mixed with the distinct tang of anxiety. For a heartbeat, she remained rigid, her warrior instincts fighting against the situation, but then she melted.
Her mouth opened under the pressure of mine. I swept my tongue inside, exploring the cavern of her mouth, tangling with her tongue. She let out a low, vibrating moan into my mouth, her fingers curling into the hair on my chest, gripping me as if I were the only thing keeping her upright.
I felt her breasts flatten against my chest. They were heavy, substantial mounds of soft flesh that molded perfectly to my torso. Even through the haze of lust, I could feel her nipples hardening, boring into my skin like tiny, excited pebbles.
She really has no idea what she's doing, I realized with a surge of affection.
Her movements were clumsy, eager but unrefined. It was adorable. The mighty Titania, who could slay a hundred monsters without breaking a sweat, was shivering like a leaf because a boy was kissing her.
She was definitely a virgin.
Suddenly, a new weight pressed against us.
Irene had moved, pressing her naked body against Erza's back, sandwiching the younger redhead between us. It was a sensory overload of the highest order. Irene's massive, unrestrained breasts squashed against Erza's shoulder blades, her soft stomach pressing into the curve of Erza's lower back.
"Mmm... you taste delicious, daughter," Irene hummed, the vibration of her voice traveling through Erza's body and into mine.
Irene lowered her head, burying her face in the crook of Erza's neck. She began to kiss the sensitive skin there, open-mouthed and wet. I watched Erza's eyes flutter closed as she was assaulted from both sides. She was trapped in a prison of flesh and lust, held tight by the man she wanted and the mother she feared and loved.
Irene's hand snaked around Erza's waist, her long fingers splaying over Erza's flat stomach, dangerously close to where my cock was grinding against her.
I broke the kiss, needing to see Erza's face, needing to taste more of her. A string of saliva connected our lips for a moment before snapping. Erza's face was flushed a deep, magnificent crimson, her mouth swollen and wet, her breath coming in shallow, ragged pants.
"Haru..." she whimpered, her head falling back against Irene's shoulder.
"I've got you," I whispered. I trailed my kisses down her jawline, over her throat, feeling her pulse hammering wildly against my lips. I moved lower, to the swell of her breasts.
They were magnificent. Pale, creamy globes with perky, rose-pink nipples that were standing at full attention. I cupped one in my hand, the weight of it satisfyingly heavy, and brushed my thumb over the sensitive peak. Erza hissed through her teeth, her hips jerking forward, grinding her pubic mound harder against my erection.
"Please..." she begged, though she clearly didn't know what she was asking for.
I lowered my head and took her left nipple into my mouth.
"Ah!" Erza cried out, her back arching, pressing her buttocks firmly into Irene's groin.
I sucked greedily, swirling my tongue around the hardened nub, teasing the aureola with my teeth. I felt her knees buckle, but my arm around her waist held her up. I moved to the other breast, lavering it with broad, wet strokes of my tongue, treating her like the delicious meal she was. She tasted of sweat and soap and pure, unadulterated female arousal.
Behind her, Irene was busy.
While I ravaged Erza's front, Irene was worshiping her back. I could see Irene's hands gliding over Erza's smooth skin, tracing the line of her spine. Irene kissed her way down the center of Erza's back, her tongue tracing the valley of her spine, sending shivers racking through the younger woman's frame.
Irene's hands slid lower, over the curve of Erza's hips, until her fingertips hooked into the waistband of the white panties—the last barrier.
"These simply won't do," Irene purred, her voice thick with lust. She nipped at the skin of Erza's lower back, right above her tailbone. "A dragon's hoard should be on display, not hidden behind cheap cotton."
Erza gasped, burying her hands in my hair as I continued to suckle on her breast. "Mother... wait..."
"No waiting," Irene commanded softly.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Irene began to peel the panties down. Her hands smoothed over Erza's outer thighs, dragging the white fabric with them.
I pulled back from Erza's breast to watch. It was a sight I would burn into my memory forever.
As the waistband slid over the round, firm curve of Erza's buttocks, the fabric grew taut. Irene pushed it down further, over her hips, down her toned, pale thighs. Erza trembled, instinctively trying to clamp her legs together, but my thigh was between hers, keeping her stance wide.
The panties dropped to her ankles.
"Step out of them, Erza," I murmured, looking deep into her eyes.
She bit her lip, looking down at her shackled ankles, then back at me. Slowly, shakily, she lifted one foot, then the other, stepping free of the garment. Irene kicked the underwear away into the darkness of the room.
Now, she was completely ours.
My gaze dropped to the junction of her thighs.
Erza wasn't shaved bare like some of the more modern girls, she was from a fantasy world. Between her legs lay a neat, trimmed triangle of red hair—a darker, richer shade than the hair on her head. It was cute, natural, and incredibly erotic.
But what drew my eye—and Irene's—was the moisture.
Her pussy was already glistening. The red curls were matted down with slick, clear nectar. A heavy drop of arousal was pearling at her nether lips, catching the moonlight. The scent of her excitement hit me full force—a sweet, musky perfume that made my mouth water and my cock throb violently against her stomach.
Irene leaned around Erza's side, getting a good look at her daughter's exposed vulnerability. She let out a low, appreciative coo.
"Oh my," Irene teased, her warm breath ghosting over Erza's ear. She reached a hand around, her fingers hovering just inches from Erza's wet slit. "Look at you, my little Titania. You act so composed, so disciplined... yet look how messy you are down here. You're dripping wet before we've even properly touched you."
Erza let out a choked sob of embarrassment, trying to cover herself with her hands, but I caught her wrists, pinning them gently to her sides.
"Don't hide," I told her, my voice rough with need. "You're beautiful, Erza. And that wetness? It just tells me how much you want this. How much you want us."
Irene chuckled darkly. "Indeed. It seems the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You're just as eager to be bred as your mother, aren't you?"
Erza couldn't answer. She just stood there, naked, shivering, and sandwiched between two absolute monsters of lust, with her wet, red pussy exposed to the air, waiting for us to devour her.
The air in the bedroom was so thick with pheromones and tension that it felt like breathing in heavy syrup.
"It is time to give yourself to Haru," Irene whispered, her voice a sultry, hypnotic command that seemed to bypass Erza's logic centers entirely. The Dragon Witch leaned in close, her lips brushing against the sensitive shell of Erza's ear. She nipped the lobe gently, sending a visible shiver cascading down Erza's naked spine, before moving to kiss the pulse point on her daughter's neck. It was a possessive, claiming gesture, marking the territory she intended to share. "Don't think, my little fairy," Irene murmured against her skin. "Just feel. Look at him. He is waiting for you."
I sat back against the mountain of pillows, my legs spread wide in invitation. My erection was fully revealed, standing tall and proud against my stomach. It was glistening with the saliva from Irene's earlier blowjob and a bead of pre-cum that had welled up at the slit. I was rock hard, aching with a pressure that demanded release, and the sight of Erza Scarlet—naked, vulnerable, and dripping wet—was driving me to the brink of madness.
"Come here, Erza," I encouraged her, my voice dropping to a low, rumbling baritone. "I won't hurt you. I promise."
Irene's hands were firm on Erza's hips. She didn't push so much as steer, guiding Erza's trembling form toward the edge of the bed where I waited. "Open your legs, daughter," Irene coached, her tone dripping with dark encouragement. "Straddle him. Sink down onto him. Take what you want."
Erza moved like an automaton fighting against a short circuit. Her face was a beacon of crimson, her breath coming in shallow, panicked hitches. She lifted one leg, her knee shaking violently, and placed it on the mattress beside my hip.
The view was spectacular. From my angle, looking up, I had a perfect view of her spread thighs and the wet, glistening folds of her sex. She was open to me, defenseless.
"Haru, I... I..." Erza stammered. She tried to lift her other leg to straddle me, hovering directly over my throbbing cock.
She looked down. Her brown eyes locked onto the angry, veiny head of my penis, which was currently twitching in anticipation of entering her. The reality of what was about to happen seemed to crash into her all at once. The physical size of me, the presence of her naked mother behind her, the sheer overwhelming nature of the situation...
"It's... it's too..." Erza squeaked. Her face turned a shade of red that I didn't think was biologically possible for a human being. Her pupils dilated until her eyes were almost entirely black, and then, her brain simply quit.
"Fwuah..."
The sound escaped her lips—a noise that was half-gasp, half-whimper of total system failure. Her eyes rolled back into her head, showing only the whites.
"Whoa!" I exclaimed, my hands shooting out.
Erza's knees unlocked instantly. She crumbled like a house of cards.
Irene caught her daughter effortlessly, hooking her arms under Erza's armpits and hauling her back up against her chest before she could hit the mattress.
The room fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of the two conscious occupants. Erza Scarlet, the Titania, the Queen of the Fairies, hung limp in her mother's arms, completely unconscious.
I sat there for a moment, my hands frozen in mid-air, my cock still throbbing aggressively against my stomach. I blinked once. Twice…
Then, a laugh bubbled up from my chest. It wasn't a mocking laugh, but one of pure, incredulous shock.
"Well," I wheezed, rubbing the back of my neck as my tails gave a confused flick behind me. "That's... that is definitely a first. I've had women scream, cry, and beg... but I've never had one literally pass out from embarrassment before."
Irene huffed, blowing a stray lock of scarlet hair out of her face. She looked down at the limp, naked woman in her arms with a mixture of annoyance and exasperated affection.
"Ridiculous girl," Irene sighed. "She has the magical power to crush armies, yet she cannot handle the sight of a penis without swooning like a maiden."
"I'm pretty sure that happened because she is a shy maiden…" I pointed out.
Irene shifted her grip, easily lifting Erza's dead weight. She maneuvered Erza to the far side of the massive King-sized bed and laid her down gently. She took a moment to arrange Erza's limbs, straightening her legs and brushing the hair away from her sleeping face.
Even unconscious, Erza looked beautiful—peaceful, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, completely oblivious to the sexual frustration she had just caused.
"Maybe we were rushing things," Irene admitted quietly, standing up and turning back to face me. She placed her hands on her wide, naked hips. "She is clearly not ready for the... intensity... of a dragon's appetite. I suppose I should have expected this. She has denied her nature for too long."
"She'll come around," I said, unable to take my eyes off Irene now that she was the sole focus of the room again. "We just need to break her in slower next time. Maybe start with dinner before the threesome."
Irene chuckled, a dark, sultry sound that vibrated in the air. "Perhaps." She stalked toward me. The disappointment of Erza's collapse was quickly replaced by a renewed, sharper hunger in her amber eyes. She stopped at the edge of the bed, right between my spread legs, where Erza had been standing only moments ago. "However," Irene purred, trailing a finger down her own cleavage, circling her breast before continuing down over her flat stomach. "It does present a unique opportunity." She glanced down at my crotch. My cock hadn't got the memo that the party was paused; if anything, Irene's predatory approach had made it harder. It twitched responsively under her gaze. "It seems," Irene whispered, stepping forward until her shins pressed against the side of the bed, "that I really will have you all to myself for the rest of the night. It would be a shame to let such a magnificent offering go to waste…"
"A terrible shame," I agreed, my voice rough.
Irene didn't wait for further invitation. She placed her hands on my chest, her palms hot and firm, and pushed.
"Lie back, my King," she commanded.
I let her push me down, my back hitting the mattress. I sank into the pillows, my ten golden tails fanning out around me. I looked up at her, awestruck by the sheer majesty of her form.
Irene towered over me. Her breasts were heavy and full, tipping forward as she moved, her nipples dark, hard points of desire. Her hips were wide, designed for bearing children and riding stallions, and right now, I was her stallion.
She climbed onto the bed, crawling over my legs on her hands and knees. She positioned herself directly above my waist. "Watch me, Haru," she hissed. "Watch me take what belongs to me."
She reached down, her hand wrapping around the base of my shaft. Her grip was tight, possessive. She lined me up with her entrance.
I looked up at the junction of her thighs. Unlike Erza, Irene was completely bare, save for the glistening sheen of her own arousal. Her pussy was swollen, the lips parted slightly, weeping a clear nectar that promised slick, frictionless pleasure.
She lowered her hips.
The head of my cock met her entrance.
"Oh... yes..." Irene groaned, her head tilting back as she felt the stretch.
Slowly, agonizingly, she began to sink down.
I watched as her body consumed me. My purple glans disappeared inside her pink flesh, her tightness stretching around me, accommodating my girth. It was an incredibly tight fit.
"Fuck, Irene..." I gritted my teeth, my hands coming up to grip her wide hips, my thumbs digging into her soft flesh to help pull her down. "You are so tight."
"Only for you," she gasped, looking down at me, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with lust.
She sank lower. Inch by inch. I watched my shaft disappear inside her, swallowed whole by her voracious depths. The friction was exquisite, the wet heat of her insides clamping down on me with every millimeter she took.
When she finally bottomed out, her buttocks resting against my thighs, we both let out a synchronized groan of pure ecstasy. I was buried to the hilt, deep inside her womb, filling her completely.
Irene paused there for a moment, letting her body adjust to the invasion. She clamped her internal muscles down around me—a rhythmic, milking squeeze that nearly sent me over the edge right then and there.
"Perfect," she whispered.
Then, she began to move.
She lifted her hips, sliding up my length until only the tip remained inside, before slamming back down with a wet, heavy thwack of skin against skin.
Squelch. Slap. Squelch.
(R-18 end)
….
The morning sun filtered through the front windows of the Fox Hole, casting long, golden beams across the wooden floorboards. Dust motes danced in the light, swirling in the wake of my broom as I pushed a pile of confetti, broken tankard shards, and unidentifiable food scraps toward the dustpan.
The restaurant was quiet. It was a stark, peaceful contrast to the absolute chaos that had reigned here only a few hours ago.
I didn't use magic. I didn't summon any Shadow Clones to handle the drudgery. There was something meditative about doing it the old-fashioned way. The rhythmic swish-swish of the bristles against the wood grounded me. It gave me time to process the sheer insanity of the previous night, and more importantly, it let me replay the highlight reel in my head with a satisfied grin plastered on my face.
And what a highlight reel it was.
My thoughts drifted back to waking up just an hour ago.
I had been "the filling" in a Belserion Oyakodon sandwich. Irene had been draped over my left side. And on my right, curled up in a defensive little ball with her back pressed against my ribs, was Erza.
The moment Erza had opened her eyes and realized where she was, sandwiched between the Demon Lord she had crushed on and the mother she had a complicated relationship with—her reaction had been priceless.
She didn't scream. She didn't argue. She just... rebooted.
Her face had turned a shade of crimson that put her hair to shame. She had scrambled out of bed, tripping over the sheets, and before her feet even hit the rug, a magic circle had flared. Flash. In a blink, she was fully armored, Heart Kreuz plate and all. She had mumbled something incoherent that sounded like, "I-I-Guild-Paperwork-Emergency!" before sprinting out of the room and likely all the way back to the Fairy Tail guild hall in Magnolia.
Irene had just lifted her head, watched her daughter flee with a sleepy, amused smirk before rolling over to go back to sleep.
"Heh." I chuckled aloud, shaking my head as I swept around a particularly sticky patch of spilled mead. "Cute." I navigated the broom around an obstacle in the middle of the floor.
"Hrrgghn..."
The obstacle grunted.
It was Torvar, one of the Companions from Skyrim. The Nord was sprawled face-down on the floor, one arm clutching a broken chair leg like a teddy bear, completely unconscious. A small puddle of drool had formed near his cheek. "Hey, buddy," I said, poking his ribs with the handle of my broom. "You gotta wake up sometime…"
Torvar didn't move. He just let out a long, wet snore.
I shrugged. "Suit yourself."
I continued sweeping around him. If the man needed to sleep off a gallon of mead on my floor, who was I to judge?
Ding-a-ling.
The bell above the entrance chimed, signaling a customer.
"We're closed for cleaning!" I called out without looking up, focused on sweeping a pile of crumbs. "Come back in an hour unless you want to help mop!"
"I believe we can wait, though I doubt John knows how to handle a mop without breaking the handle."
Standing in the doorway were two figures who looked like they had stepped out of a sci-fi blockbuster.
First was Cortana. She wore a simple, modern sundress that hugged her no-longer digital curves.
Beside her stood the Master Chief. John-117. He wasn't in his Mjolnir armor today. That in itself was a rare sight. He wore a simple gray t-shirt and cargo pants, clothes that did absolutely nothing to hide the sheer, terrifying density of his physique. He was a mountain of a man, pale from a lifetime inside a helmet, his skin a roadmap of jagged white scars that told the story of a thousand battles. His eyes were intense, scanning the room for threats out of habit before settling on me.
"Haru," John greeted. His voice was a deep gravel rumble, as stoic and unshakeable as a glacier.
"John. Cortana," I greeted, leaning my broom against a table. I wiped my hands on a rag and grinned. "You two missed a hell of a party last night."
I gestured to the carnage around me—the overturned chairs, the sleeping Nord, the empty kegs.
Cortana stepped further into the room. She looked around with a pout, crossing her arms over her chest. "I told him we should have come," she sighed, shooting a side-eye at the Spartan. "I wanted to dance! It would have been my second party ever!"
"So why didn't you?" I asked, hopping up to sit on the bar counter. "We went until dawn. Plenty of time for you two to have shown up."
Cortana giggled. "Because the big bad Spartan was being shy."
John shifted his weight. "I was not being shy," he stated flatly.
"Oh, you were absolutely being shy," Cortana teased, poking him in the side. Her finger sank into rock-hard oblique muscle. "Or maybe 'cautious' is the word? Or perhaps 'traumatized'?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Traumatized? John? The guy who blew up a Halo ring and fights aliens for breakfast?"
John looked away, staring intently at a stain on the wall as if it were a Covenant dropship.
Cortana hopped up onto a barstool, her blue skin glowing brighter with amusement. "It's about the last party we went to," she explained conspiratorially. "The massive celebration after we saved the Tempest Federation.
"Did something happen there? That party was pretty good…" I trailed off. Milim and I ended up blowing up her house.
Huh? I'm surprised she didn't show up last night…
"Too good, apparently," Cortana replied to me and grinned at her partner. "John here... well, his physiology is enhanced. Super-soldier serum, augmentations... apparently, it makes his reproductive system extremely efficient."
I blinked. "Okay... where is this going?"
John let out a heavy sigh, the sound of a man who would rather be fighting the Flood than having this conversation.
"He got lucky at that party," Cortana beamed proudly for him. "Very lucky. There were these three Hobgoblin girls. Cute things. Green skin, very enthusiastic to thank the brave hero who helped save them. One thing led to another..."
My jaw dropped slightly. I looked at the Master Chief. "No way," I whispered.
So I wasn't the only one who'd be a dad someday soon?
"Three of them," Cortana confirmed, holding up three blue fingers. "He knocked up three Hobgoblin girls in one night. We just got the message from Rimuru a few days ago."
Silence descended on the Fox Hole.
I looked at John. He didn't deny it. He just stood there, his face an unreadable mask of stoicism, though I noticed the tips of his ears were a bright, burning pink. "It was... an oversight," John rumbled finally. "The celebratory atmosphere was... persuasive. And the biology of the locals was... compatible."
I snorted. Then I chuckled. Then I threw my head back and laughed.
John's expression didn't change, but his posture stiffened slightly into a position of attention. "I intend to take full responsibility," he said seriously. "I have calculated the resource requirements for raising children. I will not be a deadbeat parent…"
"He's panicking," Cortana whispered loudly. "It's not like he's getting a UNSC paycheck anymore."
"You're serious," I wheezed, wiping a stray tear from my eye as my ten golden tails swished amusedly behind me. "You're actually worried about money?"
John stood rigid. "Child support is a logistical reality," he rumbled, his voice a deep gravel that vibrated through the floorboards of the restaurant. "If I am to provide adequate resources for three offspring, I require a sustainable income stream."
Cortana giggled. "He's already made a spreadsheet, Haru," she teased, her sapphire eyes dancing with mischief. "He calculated the caloric intake requirements for three hybrid infants. It's adorable."
"I wouldn't worry too much, big guy," I said, grabbing a clean rag to wipe down a spot on the bar that didn't really need cleaning. "I don't have any specific bounties or quests right now, but I know exactly who to call." I gestured vaguely towards the ceiling, referencing our resident spacefarer. "Jane Shepard. She's always looking for heavy hitters for her ground team. And you two get along don't you? Plus, you'd fit right in. You both have a habit of saving galaxies."
John considered this. After a long moment of silence, he gave a sharp, decisive nod. "That is acceptable."
Just as the Spartan's financial crisis was resolved, the heavy wooden door of the Fox Hole creaked open with a groan.
Mavis Vermillion stumbled inside.
The legendary First Master of Fairy Tail looked... absolutely wrecked. Her long, pale blonde hair was a tangled bird's nest of knots and frizz. Her signature frilly white dress was rumpled and stained with what looked suspiciously like berry juice, and she walked with the delicate, pained gait of someone whose skull was currently trying to split itself open from the inside out.
I raised an eyebrow, my fox ears twitching atop my head. "Rough night?"
Last night, Mavis had endured hours of pudding and tea parties before finally snapping around midnight when the actual children were sent home. She needed to prove she was an adult. She had marched to the main bar, climbed a stool, and proceeded to go shot-for-shot with the Nords, chugging heavy mead like it was water.
Apparently, a century-old body that had just been resurrected didn't have a built-in tolerance for Skyrim alcohol.
Mavis winced at the sound of my voice, clutching her forehead with both small hands as if trying to hold her brain inside. She shuffled forward, her bare feet dragging heavily on the floorboards, until she reached the counter. She tried to glare at me, but it came out as more of a pained, watery squint.
"You..." she croaked, her voice raspy and dry. She lifted a trembling hand, pointing an accusing finger at my chest. "You represent everything that is wrong with the world."
"Good morning to you too, Mavis," I chirped, leaning over the counter to slide a glass of ice water toward her. "You look like you fought a dragon and lost. Oh wait…"
She ignored the water and slammed her head onto the cool wood of the counter, burying her face in her arms. "Ugh…"
Cortana leaned in, her digital blue eyes scanning Mavis's slumped form with clinical curiosity. "Is she... okay? Her vitals seem erratic. Her body temperature is elevated."
"She's fine," I assured the concerned spirit. "Just a hangover. It's the price of freedom."
Mavis shot up suddenly, her green eyes wide and bloodshot. "Freedom!" she shrieked, her voice cracking, before immediately flinching at her own volume. "Ow... Freedom... that reminds me." She fixed me with a scowl that was entirely unthreatening given she looked like a disheveled twelve-year-old. "You! We have to go. Now."
"Go where?" I asked.
"To the station!" Mavis insisted, sliding off the stool and nearly losing her balance. She steadied herself against the wood, breathing heavily, her small chest heaving. "We have to bail Master Makarov out of Magic Jail! You let them arrest him yesterday! He has been in a holding cell all night!" Mavis accused, stomping her foot. "Because of your lies! We have to go get him out before the Council decides to actually put him on trial!"
"Oh right! Hehehe!" I had practically gift-wrapped him for the Rune Knights yesterday. I'd clamped my hand over Mavis's mouth and corroborated the ridiculous story that Makarov had kidnapped her and kept her in a dungeon for years. The last time I saw him, he was being dragged away by Lahar, screaming about his innocence while I told Mavis it builds character.
"You forgot?!" Mavis gaped at me, her cheeks puffing out in indignation. "He spent the night in a cell because of your prank! How did you forget?"
"I was having sex with Irene for hours straight and it just slipped my mind," I admitted.
"Tch," Cortana said, the symbols on her skin moved faster with her obvious jealousy.
Mavis just looked embarrassed for some reason which was weird because wasn't she literally married to her world's most evil wizard or something?
"I'm sure he's fine. He's a Wizard Saint," I countered with a shrug, tossing the towel over my shoulder. "A night in the drunk tank won't kill him. Besides, I told you it builds character."
"He wasn't in the drunk tank!" Mavis wailed, stomping her small foot on the floor. "He's in the maximum-security holding cells for high-level magical offenders! They took your 'testimony' very seriously!"
Wow, they did? I did my best to not bust out laughing again, because she was actually starting to look pretty mad.
Cortana looked between us, her blue eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Magic Jail?" she asked, tilting her head. "Is that a technical term?"
I chuckled, untying my apron and folding it neatly on the counter. "It's a long story involving a misunderstanding, a hundred-year-old loli, and a very petty prank war I started because an old man banned me from his clubhouse." I looked at Mavis, who was vibrating with impatience and nausea. "Alright, alright. Keep your hair on. We'll go get him." I had to admit, the idea of seeing Makarov's face when I showed up to 'exonerate' him was too good to pass up. "Hey, Cortana," I said, offering her a hand. "You want to come along? It's a different world—magic, wizards, flying cats."
Cortana's eyes lit up immediately. She hopped off her stool, smoothing down her dress over her hips. "A magical prison break? Well, bail-out?" She grinned, grabbing my arm and pressing her soft curves against my side. "I wouldn't miss it. Lead the way, Haru."
I looked back at John. "You good here, Chief?"
Master Chief nodded once, picking up a menu to study it with the intensity he usually reserved for tactical maps or alien weapon schematics. "Go. I will be visiting Commander Shepard in order to secure employment."
"I'd offer for you to join Fairy Tail, but frankly you kind of terrify me, mister," Mavis said to John honestly.
He just nodded at her, because how else was someone supposed to respond to that?
XXX
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