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pursuitseternal · 3 months ago

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𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓼: 𝓖𝓵𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓸𝓷𝔂

Raphael x F!Reader x Haarlep |E| 2.1K

Summary: You fell for it, a taste of the Incubus’ blood. And now you hunger once point of insanity, chasing after the one thing for you to glut yourself on… and it smells good.

CW: Cum hunger, pussy spanking, Breeding no babies, sex pollen/incubus blood/fuck or die vibes, ABO vibes, scent kink, heat/forced heat, threesome, polycule, spit roast, mating press, throat fuck, facial

Prev ch |ao3 link| Raphael Masterlist

Full PursuitsEternal Masterlist

Mistake… huge… egregious sin. And now, your body is not your own. Your mouth drools, endless amounts of spit leak from your lips even as you try to swallow.

You shouldn’t have listened to that incubus. What were you thinking? His spit is meant to make you aroused and willing… So why are you shocked that when Haarlep dared you, pestered you… goaded you into a sample of their blood from a fresh cut mark on their finger….

It had been tingly and sweet and spicy and hot all in one drip.

Your body burns hotter than the walls of the House, and a pit forms in your stomach. A hunger unlike anything you had ever known. That’s why you stand now in the feasting hall, your hands grabbing for the constant supply of food on its tables. Buns… cheese… meats… you take bites of all of them, finding them like ash on your tongue.

You spit them each out, one after another. Clearly not what you crave.

Hand shaking, belly growling, you are starving for more. For something… you don’t know what. But maybe, your body does as it hums with infernal hunger. You let your feet pull you towards the boudoir. Your nose fills with his scent, your master. Closing your eyes, his scent pulls you to where he sits on the balcony, the winds of Avernus sweeping his hair to one side. Unphased by the heat, he sits, one knee over the other, a book in his hand. Undoubtedly researching something for his next client or current one…

But you barely open your eyes as you approach. You drop to your knees, sniffing like an animal, drool on your chin, as one shaking hand pulls his legs down and apart.

“Sweetling…” he croons, questioning and warning all in one moniker for you. But his voice barely registers through your need to eat…. Your nostrils flare harder and harder as you bury your face into his groin, hands on the hard planes of his hips.

“Mmmm,” you hum, your stomach rumbling audibly. Drool leaks from your mouth as you open it to kiss the lines of his flaccid cock. Spit dampens the expensive fabric of his pants, your tongue licking a long stripe up his now hardening length. Then it hits you—the first drip of precum that gathers in his piss slit.

That’s what you need. What you crave with reckless abandon.

“Master…” you moan before your mouth latches to his clothed cockhead to suck that tiny pearl of cum through the fabric.

“My eager little mouse, what has gotten into you today. You look positively possessed… If I didn’t know better…”

He trails off, hand flying through the air to grip your hair and yank your open mouth to his nose. He gives it a single long inhale. “My my, you’ve managed to let Haarlep give you a sample of their blood…” he trails his words off into a chuckle. “Did they dare you to do it, I wonder?”

You nod, whining to return your face back where his scent is strongest. So close and yet out of reach as your body burns for him to fuck you, feed you his cock, come inside you until your belly swells. You don’t care….

Raphael can almost read the details of your thoughts as those brown eyes stare into your sweating face. His lips turn in a predacious grin. “You reek, my little whore of a mouse. You just couldn’t resist, and now your pathetic mortal body is in heat for the one thing it craves.�� Another rolling chuckle punctuates his degradation as he stands. Fist in your hair, he pulls you to his bed.

His hold on you keeps you tight beside him like a leash. That’s what it feels like… “Such a good pup… keeping at her master’s side, whining…like a bitch in heat,” he just rumbles his laughter louder as he snaps his fingers to magic your clothing away.

Not that it mattered. Your arousal, so plentiful, seeps down your thighs, and you hiss the moment your searing flesh meets the air. Even the hot breezes of the hells feel cool on your body compared to how you are burning alive.

“Haarlep!” he bellows into the House, summoning the Incubus the old fashioned way, his deep voice grating in his silken voice box as he shouts even louder a second time.

The Incubus comes, saunters more like, their red fleshed Cambion form smirking as they draw closer. “Oh… has the master spoiled our little game?” they laugh, crueler than Raphael’s chuckle. “Can’t say I’m surprised… it’s not like me to plan something that might be so fun for us all.” They flash their yellow and black eyes to the Master. “Not like me at all…”

Raphael growls. “You’ve overstepped here, Haarlep,” he warns, setting your body on the bed face down.

Even the silken sheet beneath you feels cool, a moment of respite until your flesh warms it up. Then you let out a sad, pathetic whimper. “Please, master,” you lift your head to see them both staring down at you. One warm skinned mortal face, furrowed in careful consideration, and one mirror image in Cambion form, their shit-eating grin only widening as your gaze drops to their waists… their hips… their cocks.

You lick your lips. “Please,” voice cracking, you make yourself continue. “I can’t bear it…”

“And you won’t have to, my sweetling,” Raphael smiles, a slightly wicked twist to his already smirking lips. “The Incubus will lend me a hand in fixing your problem.”

“Lend you a cock more likely,” Haarlep laughs. “My blood sure does work a number on you pathetic mortals. It’s so much fun to see… and even more fun to cure.”

“Haarlep!” the Master snaps, “lay her on her back and be nice about it.”

A breathy laugh sounds over you; hot, leathery, clawed hands gently grab your shoulder and roll you on your back. You groan, the feeling of touch on your flesh directly is enough to make your walls flutter and your cunt clench enough to let a little gush of arousal leak. Eyes flutter shut. Your mouth fills with spit as your stomach groans, both ends of your body needing to be filled.

Instantly.

The slightest touch of smooth fingers over the curls of your mound, and your thighs fall apart. You buck your hips, lifting them to slam them on the bed, earning you another laugh from his throat… and a firm hand between your thighs… to slap your pussy. The wet collision bounces off the stone walls.

You scream at the wave of pleasure-pain that tears through you. He winds up, giving your drenched and swollen lips another slap firmly over your folds.

“Such a naughty mouse,” he croons, gently soothing your pussy lips and slipping two fingers into your drenched folds. “You gullible slut, falling for the oldest trick in the proverbial book.”

His chastisement falls on your deaf ears. All you hear is your own rushing blood, your hissing breath and the wet, slick squelches his fingers make inside you cunt as he starts to finger fuck you in earnest. He pulls desperate broken sighs from your lips, your eyes close as you just chase the promise of relief at the literal tips of his fingers.

Your noises grow more and more wanton… until you feel the red hot bulge of a cockhead on your lips.

“Please, Master, she’s so fucking loud,” Haarlap grumbles, that whine in their voice nagging. “Let me help make up for my happy mistake.”

Raphael just grunts his consent, maybe he nods or waves his other hand, but you’re too lost to open your eyes. All you know next is the push of that thick, ridge cock into your panting mouth and desperately slick throat. Those ridges catch on your teeth as they slide in and pull out, your mouth filling with extra slickness from your throat.

“You’d better fuck her soon, Master,” Haarlep prods, joking as they thrust a little faster and deeper. “At this rate she’ll pass out before tasting either of us. And if that happens…” they laugh and growl at once, “who knows if she will survive her heat…”

Your eyes roll back, body bucking, mouth screaming as you feel his fingers disappear from your aching cunt.

Then you scream in relief around that heated Cambion cock down your throat as Raphael fills you. A single stroke inside and he’s fully seated. A single groan from his chest, and he’s fucking you with abandon. Your body shivers, pushed and pulled like a carnival squeezebox. Their thrusts sometimes slam into you at once. Other times they alternate. And you, their glorious instrument of pleasure.

All sense of time is lost in the pounding of both ends, the only thing that grounds your body once more is the way your throat-slimed mouth suddenly fills with cum… hot and almost spicy, those ridges dragging in your mouth as Haarlep shoves that cock deeper still. “Swallow pet,” they groan, “it’ll ease the pain… or will it?”

A growl from Raphael between your thighs, and they change their tune. But only after a petulant huff. “Swallow it and you’ll feel better… you’ll glut yourself on us tonight, and then you’ll feel better… and then you’ll learn not to drink my blood unless you want this same heat in your blood and ache in your cunt.”

“Haarlep! That’s enough playing with my food,” Raphael hisses at him, his voice scratching, those velvet tones husky and rough as he stills his fucking inside you.

Keening, you reach for Raphael’s skin, grabbing haphazardly for more of his body. That fire in your blood is barely muted by the cum in your belly, and you lick your lips for more. “Master… please, I beg… fuck me… fill me,” you whine, desperate and pathetic.

Raphael’s body crushes yours, hands bending your legs to buckle against your chest, all while he shoves the Incubus out of reach. “Stand there and watch, Haarlep, touch yourself if you wish, but you’ve been far too naughty to come again before I do.”

The devil’s mouth crushes your own, his tongue sliding inside to lick you clean of the Incubus’s seed. “Good mouse, loyal mouse… stupid mouse for falling for their tricks,” he praises and degrades you in one velvet toned breath. “Master will help you, feed your mouth and nether lips with the nourishment you require…”

Arms wrap around your shoulders, his searing breath in your left ear as he mounts you. His rhythm is fast and deep and persistent. Thrust after thrust he knocks against your cervix, pulling and pushing in your swollen channel.

But you cry for more… your mouth spills a series of pleas, needy and pitiful and submissively sweet as he fucks into your hungry belly and aching cunt.

Rutting, he claims you with his cock… with a snarl he bites into your shoulder, and he maims you with his teeth. Your body is pure flame, hellfire itself. Your hips rock with what little space he gives you, riding his thrusts. Your cunt soaks up every drop of precum that leaks, you can feel that pearly fluid soaking into the heat of your body.

Faster and rough, he grunts and plunges your depths. More leaking cum… more to cool your heat. Until… he stutters, hips slamming your ass and thighs as his breath hitches.

It shoots into you, flooding your womb, his cum painting your insides and sating your hunger. Each spurt cools that inferno, but only barely.

You pant, screaming as you come in time with his release. Pulsing as if swallowing themselves, your walls milk him, sucking his cum deep to your gut. He stills a moment, licking the blood from his bite off his lips. His cherry-red, bloody smile takes up your whole field of vision.

Then he sticks his thumb in your mouth, jarring it open. “Here, Haarlep, since you’ve been so diligent in taking care of yourself, you can at least let that load be useful,” Raphael growls, his words breaking into a deep and delighted laugh.

Hot, sticky cum covers your chin, most of it landing in your mouth that he keeps pried open. Your tongue laps at it, gathering it from your open lips, your face, even the Master’s thumb that controls you.

He lets go of your face, lips crushing yours as he kisses you, cum over everything it feels. Your mind thrums less than before… your hands wander over his smooth, bared back, your chest tickled by the patches of soft curls that decorate Raphael’s chest….

And yet, your stomach still growls. Hungry for more.

📸 were found on Pinterest. Dm if credit needed.

#raphlep #raphael x you #Raphael x you x haarlep #raphael baldur's gate 3 #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael smut #raphael fanfic #raphael x reader #raphael #haarlep #bg3 #bg3 smut #bg3 fic #baldur’s gate iii #baldurs gate smut #baldur’s gate 3

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probablyspooky · 3 months ago

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Tesoro Atlantis [Vinny x F!Reader] P.2

[First]

You're a marine biologist, friend of Milo Thatch, who brings you along on the expedition to find Atlantis, allowing you a once in a lifetime opportunity to see the seabed for yourself, but you find more than that.

One by one, small lights were produced, looking up at Vinny you sigh a sigh of relief that you survived that. Realizing his arm is still around you, you feel your cheeks heat up, but something hard is poking you.

“Uhm…Vinny what’s that?” you ask nervously.

“Oh that?” he digs into his satchel, producing a clock strapped to a few sticks of dynamite, “It’s a bomb.”

“Oh…”

The clock's face comically shoots out, this action forces Vinny to frown.

“Merda…” he scowls.

Leaving the armored trucks, Rourke asks Audrey what the damage to the convoy is.

“Not as bad as it could have been,” she says, face inside an engine,”We totaled rigs two and seven, but the digger still looks like it’ll still run. Lucky for us we landed in something soft.”

Mole scurries around, sniffing the ground much like a dog.

“Pumice ash,” he says, “We are standing at the base of a dormant Volcano.”

Helga shoots a flare into the air, its large flame eventually becoming a speck in your eye.

“It just keeps coming,” Helga says, astonished.

“Maybe it’s our ticket out of here,” Vinny says, standing next to you, brushing his finger against his mustache.

The flare pops in the distance.

“Maybe not,” Helga frowns.

Mole scurried around some more.

“The maga has solidified in the bowels of the volcano, effectively blocking off the exit.”

Sweet takes a step back, flailing his hands around as he speaks smoothly.

“Hold on, back up. Are you saying this whole volcano can blow at any time?”

You watch Vinny trying to fix the clock bomb in his hand while everyone speaks.

“No, no, no, no. That would take an explosive force of great magnitude” Mole says calmly.

Vinny's clock face pops out again. Everyone turns their faces to the two of you.

“Maybe I should do this later, huh?” his gaze turns to you with a smirk.

Rourke grumbles to himself, turning to the group.

“If we can blow the top off of that thing, we’d have a straight shot to the surface. Mr. Thatch, what do you think? Mr. Thatch? Thatch?”

You hadn’t even realized your best friend, Milo Thatch was gone. You were too distracted by Vinny [aren’t we all] to notice, panic rises in your chest as you begin to quickly pace around looking for your lost friend.

“Milo?” you cry out, “Milo!?”

You feel the firm, comforting hand of Vinny tap your side.

“Don’t worry tesoro. We will find him. I’m sure he’s fine, books probably cushioned his fall.”

Mole scurries around, pressing his ear against a wall.

“I hear something!” he exclaims, quickly jumping to his digger and starting it up. The group follows Mole through his tunnel. You spot Milo running after something. Leaving Vinny’s grasp, you rush after Milo.

“Milo!” you call you, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a hug.

“I thought I’d lost you…”

You look at Milo, realizing you’re no longer within the confines of the cave, your eyes slowly pan to behind Milo, a waterfall, and upon it, the city of Atlantis beholds you.

“Sweet mother of Jefferson Davis!” Cookie exclaims

“It’s beautiful…” Audrey says in awe.

Sweet comes over to Milo giving him a firm pat on the back.

“Milo, I gotta hand it to you, you really came through.”

Your eyes widen at the beauty of the waterfall that beholds you.

“Have you ever seen anything so wonderful, Vinny?” you ask.

“Huh…Yeah, it’s a beautiful sight…” he replies, his eyes not on the waterfall but on someone else instead.

Suddenly, a group of masked people crawl and jump from the digger behind the group. Vinny steps ahead of you, an arm blocking your midsection as unknown masked people approach.

You can’t hear what’s currently being said, but you see the leader of the masked group remove her mask.

“She’s beautiful…” you whisper.

“She’s somethin, I guess,” Vinny replies.

You watch Milo wave his hands around, a desperate attempt to communicate with them. Mole for some reason whispers something to the woman, and she firmly knocks his lights out, applause followed from Sweet.

Rourke sends back a squad to salvage some items, while the rest of you enter the city of Atlantis. You climb into a truck with Vinny and Mole, squeezing into the middle best you can.

“I’m so excited!,” Mole claps.

You try your best to move away from the dirty man, your back firmly on Vinny’s side.

“Careful tesoro,” Vinny chuckles, pointing to the lava underneath the bridge you’re all currently crossing.

The group progresses, and you look at all the flying reptiles, plant life, and ancient architecture around you.

“This is beautiful…I wonder what type of marine life they have.” you say, your eyes jumping from sight to sight.

“Eh, you see one fish, you seen em all,” Vinny says.

“Oh!” you playfully shove him, “Don’t say that! Everything is unique in its own way, there’s beauty in every individual thing.”

Of course Vinny knew this already, feeling you press against him as you look around at all the sights with such passion makes him feel all warm inside, only for a moment, a dark pit of guilt swirls in his chest as he knows the inevitable will happen.

The small convoy trucks begin to halt, and in the distance you can see Milo, Helga, Kida, and Rourke enter a large temple. Eventually your car comes to a halt, Vinny stretches out his hand and helps you down.

“This is amazing!” you exclaim walking with Vinny and the group towards the kings temple. “Eh, it’s not all that great, been down here this whole time, can’t be that great, They probably don’t even have good wine.” Vinny chuckles as you begin to climb the stairs to the temple doors, not realizing the two of you haven’t let go of one another’s hand.

Milo and the rest come out, Milo say’s the princess is willing to help them, but the king however…does not. Rourke volunteers Milo to go with Kida to help convince her, and then informs the rest of the group that they are staying for one night.

The rest of the group veers off to explore the city. Vinny turns to you.

“Where to, tesoro?” he smiles down at you.

You smile excitedly as the two of you wander through the market area of Atlantis, taking in all the sights, all the goods that are being traded around, wonderful clothes, spices never heard of before, these beautiful crystals everyone wears around their necks as they work in their wonderful secret world. Taking in the smells of the food cooking, you might not know what animal they’re cooking, or why it has so many eyes, but one thing is for certain…it’s better than Cookie’s.

The two of you end up at the fishing docks, where the fishermen are reeling in marine life you had never seen before. You peer down from the bricks to look down into the water.

“Fascinating…” you say softly.

Suddenly, this lobster thing with a long tail grips the back of your head and drags you under.

Remember, you can’t swim, you begin to kick, the weight of your boots tugging you down deeper into the Atlantis waters. You hear the water vibrate as something large enters the space with you, your lungs burn as the lack of oxygen begins to cut off your brain function. An arm wraps around your chest, and you’re tugged up from the waters. The feel of cold air on your face as you break the surface of the water.

Gasping for air, as you’re dragged onto solid land, panting you look over to see Vinny, his sweater soaked as he looks down at you.

“Tesoro! Are you okay?” he asks, his hand on your cheek.

You cough, nodding, you don’t know why, but you pull Vinny into a hug, burying your face into his still wet chest.

“Thank you Vinny,” you sigh, looking up at him.

He smiles, looking back at you as your faces inch closer, feeling his heart jump in his chest as your lips are almost touching.

Vinny stops and pulls back.

“L-let’s get you out of these wet clothes..”

Disappointed, but understanding the situation, you nod, standing up the two of you head back to the group to get a fresh change of clothes.

Once the main group is back together, you all are treated to a feast…of still moving bugs.

“Oh..yum..” you frown, looking at the creepy crawlies in your bowl.

Vinny picks up this bug creature, with many eyes.

“I’m not used to being watched like this…” Vinny jokes.

Sweet pulls out one of his own from his bowl.

“Oh, don’t forget to eat the head,” he says, ripping the head off with his teeth, “ That’s where all the nutrients are.”

You watch the Atlanteans begin to turn in, Milo and Kida sneak off to go do whatever. So you find yourself walking in the cool night time air of Atlantis, feeling the familiar presence of a demo-man behind you.

“What’s on your mind, Tesoro?” he asks, walking close to you

“Just thinking about…how this whole place was hidden for so long, and I took the leap with Milo to come on this trip, I would’ve…” you turn to look at him, “never found such wonderful things if I hadn’t come alone.”

He takes your hands into his.

“Really? I mean it’s not Palermo, but it’s something.” he chuckles, rubbing his thumbs across your knuckles.

He clears his throat, moving the match in his mouth from one side to the other.

“But, I also found something wonderful down here…”

Like before, the two of you close the gap between your bodies, your faces inches apart, as your bodies begin to sway back and forth together in unison.

“Really…what’s that?” you ask, leaning up.

Vinny begins to lean down, but the moment he feels your breath on his lips, he reels back once more.

“I can’t!” he sputters, letting go of your hands and squeezing his face, “I’m not who you think I am.”

“What?”

“I-...I really like you Tesoro.”

“I like you too.”

“But..” he grumbles, “I need you to be safe.”

“What do you mean?”

Vinny glances around.

“Do you trust me?”

You nod at him.

“Of course, of course I do.”

Vinny looks conflicted, he sighs and drags you to the trucks, opening the trunk of one of them.

“Sit in here, I will come back for you once it’s done okay?” “What about Milo?” you ask, hesitating to climb in.

Vinny rubs the back of his neck.

“I’ll make sure he’s safe okay?”

You nod, climbing into the trunk.

“I will be back for you I promise.”

Darkness consumes you. You try your darn hardest to stay awake, but you fall asleep. Only awaking to the sound of the truck starting up and commotion outside.

“Vinny…?” you whisper, rubbing your eyes still in the darkness of the truck. Suddenly an explosion goes off, causing you to jump, the lid of the trunk opening slightly as you peer through the crack, you see the shrinking sight of Atlantis as you travel farther from it.

“What?”

POINT OF VIEW CHANGE “BWAAAAAWM” -Ian the editor

Milo stares as the bridge to Atlantis collapses, the crew standing behind him.

“What’re we gonna do?” Milo groans into his hands, turning around to the crew, “[Y/n], sorry for getting you stuck in all-...where’s [Y/N]?”

Vinny freezes, a deep pit in his stomach forms as looks at the trucks driving away.

“Cazzo…”

WE’RE BACK WITH [Y/N] POINT OF VIEW “MWAAAAAWB”

You hear the bustle of men, work being done, you try your hardest to stay quiet, but soon enough a masked man finds you, yanking you out of your hiding spot.

You’re dragged in front of Rourke and Helga.

“We found this one in the trunk of the truck” the masked man said, “What shall we do with her?”

Rourke looks at Helga.

“I say be done with her,” Rourke says, waving his hand.

Helga raises her hand, stopping your immediate execution.

“Well hold on, no need, not like she can do anything to us now, why waste a bullet, when she can waste away down here with the rest of them?”

Just like that you’re ignored, people working as if they’re not gonna leave you there to die.

You watch as they fire a rocket to the top of the volcano, the warm beams of sunlight as it shines down from the cracks. Rourke basks in the sunlight, happy to finally have his victory.

A giant balloon is produced from a cart, lifting some sort of crate into the air. You climb to your feet and chase after.

“What’s going on!?” you shout, running after Rourke.

“Stupi-”

Rourke turns his face to see the flying fleet of fish charging at them as Milo and the gang proceed to race towards you all.

“Alright change of plan,” Rourke says, grabbing your arm. “I see how Vinny looks at you.” He drags you on to the balloon, then he proceeds to signal his men to start firing at the fish. The battle is brutal, some Atlanteans begin to fall, their fish causing large explosions of blue energy. Rourke forcefully pulls you up as he begins to fire at anything that moves. A blue beam of energy fires between the two of you, causing Rourke to drop his gun. You look over to see Vinny salute at you as he flies off back into battle.

Rourke growls angrily and begins to shake you, while doing so as he spots Audrey and Sweet trying to cut the cargo from the balloon.

“Looks like someone’s workin’ overtime,” he tells Helga, as she drops bombs onto them.

Milo at this time now flies his flying hammerhead into one of the side balloons of the ship.

“Lighten the load!’ Rourke says, throwing you overboard.

You scream in terror as the air rushes past you, the balloon shrinking as you begin to grow the distance. You close your eyes trying to brace yourself for impact, and then!

The ground feels a lot like a hand.

You peek your eyes open to spot the familiar Italian demoman.

“I told you I was gonna come back for you Tesoro..” he smiles at you, his firm grip holding you close to him.

“Vinny!” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, finally pressing your lips against his.

He kisses you back, feeling your hair in his hand as he continues to maneuver through the airspace.

“Shit, I should save you more often…” he chuckles.

The two of you begin to retreat as Milo defeats Rourke.

Milo reinstates the heart of Atlantis, saving its people. [i aint typin all that, you know what happened]

The people of Atlantis heavily reward its heroes with massive amounts of wealth and gold. The crew overlook Atlantis as its bright roads are now full of hope.

Your hand wrapped tightly with Vinny’s as you lean your head onto his shoulder.

Every good thing must come to an end, and you have to say goodbye to Milo.

Kida gives you each a crystal necklace, smiling at yours in your hand.

“Atlantis will honor your names forever. I only wish there was more we could do for you.” Kida says, standing by Milo.

“Uh, you know, thanks anyway… but I think we’re good.” Vinny says, looking at you while motioning to the pile of wealthy behind you.

“They’ll take you as far as the surface.” Milo says.

“We are really going to miss you, Milo,” Audrey says, as Vinny walks over to Milo.

“You know, I’m gonna reopen a flower shop, and I’m gonna think of you guys every single day. Monday through Friday 9:00 to 5:00, Saturday until 2:00. Sunday…I’m gonna take Sunday off probably…date night..Maybe I’ll go in for a couple hours…you know…but August…I’m gonna take August. [Y/N] you got plans in August?” “No?,” you smile.

He turns to Milo with a smirk.

“I’m gonna take August off.”

With that Vinny walks back to your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You gonna be okay [Y/N]?” Milo asks you.

Of course not, you begin to feel tears well in your eyes and you rush over and give him a hug.

“I’m gonna miss you!’ you cry, feeling Milo hug you back

Cookie taps you on the shoulder.

“S’cuse me ma’am I’d like a turn with the nerd.”

You wipe your face and give Milo a final squeeze walking back to Vinny.

Vinny pulls you aside as you watch Cookie give Milo a literal bucket of grease.

“So August…”Vinny starts, “now that ya’know..I’m rich, you wanna…travel to see Venice?”

You nod excitedly, and then stop.

“With you?”

“Yes, with me tesoro” he replies pressing his forehead against yours.

The guard calls everyone over for a photo.

“Say ‘G’ochk”

“G’ochk!” you all say as the photo is taken.

At Mr. Whitmore’s basement room, the group stands now wearing fine clothes, jewelry, and positive attitudes.

“Now let’s go over it again, just so we got it straight,” Mr. Witmore starts, looking through photos,” You didn’t find anything.”

“Nope. Just [Y/N].” Vinny says. You respond by elbowing him, “And rocks. And Fish. Little fish. Sponges.”

“What happened to Helga?” Whitmore asks.

“Well, we lost her when a flamin’ zeppelin come down on her.”

Packard hits him with her parasol, “Uh…missin…”

“That’s right, and Rourke?” Whitmore asks.

“Nervous breakdown. You could say he went all to pieces” Sweet says, smiling at the group.

“In fact, you could say he was transmogrified, and then busted into a zillion…” the parasol is raised again, Cookie clears his throat,” He’s missin, too.”

“What about Milo?” Whitmore asks finally, looking at you.

“Went down with the sub,” you sigh, feeling Vinny’s hand on your head.

Suddenly there is the sound of digging, and your eyes pan over to see Mole’s clothes scattered on the floor and him digging into a large pot of dirt, laughing maniacally the entire time.

“Oh, lord, give me strength,” Sweet mutters, going over to the pot.

“I’m gonna miss that boy..” Mr. Whitmore sighs.

After the group goes their separate ways for now. You wave goodbye at the group as Vinny takes your hand to the car waiting, planting a kiss onto your lips.

“What now?” you ask him, wrapping your arms around his neck, giggling.

“Whatever we want Tesoro…” he chuckles, capturing your lips into another kiss.

#vincenzo santorini x reader #vinny x reader #vinny santorini x reader #atlantis fanfic #disney atlantis

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himluv · 2 months ago

Text

Stuck.

I guess I'm just posting a fic a day right now? We'll see how long this lasts 😂.

Lucanis sat on the cot in Neve’s study and fought the urge to run a hand through his hair.

Bellara leaned against Neve’s desk, casting a nervous glance between him and the detective. “Shouldn’t Rook be here?” She said. “She’s a mage, too.”

Lucanis shook his head. “She has enough problems without adding a demon to them.”

Neve gave him a sharp look, eyes narrowing as her detective’s mind caught on something he’d said. He had no idea what.

“If you’re sure,” she said, her tone skeptical.

“I’m sure.”

Another glance between the women. How did they manage to say so much with just their eyes? How did they understand each other so clearly while he was left guessing?

He sighed. “Neve, any word from your contacts?”

“Some,” she said. “But you won’t like it.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s the same old,” she said. “Demons only possess mages and the mage becomes an abomination.” She flicked old ashes from her pipe and set to repacking it. “There were whispers of possessed Templars in the South back before the Breach, but that trail is long cold.”

She’s right, Spite sang. Magic doesn’t matter.

“Everyone I’ve talked to in Arlathan says the same thing,” Bellara said and winced. “If it’s a demon, then you should be dead.”

He shook his head. “So, you’re saying Spite isn’t a demon?”

“No?” Bellara said.

Neve shrugged and lit her pipe. She took a couple puffs and then said, “We’re just saying, we don’t know.”

“Maybe, if you told us more about him..?”

He could practically feel Bellara’s curiosity buzzing around the room. Lucanis sighed. “What do you want to know?”

Neve’s lip curled as Bellara peppered him with questions.

“What’s it like when he takes over? Can you see him all of the time, or just when he’s talking? What’s he look like?” She paused just long enough for Neve to step in.

“Bel.”

Bellara looked at her, then blushed. “Right. Sorry, Lucanis.”

Let me talk, Spite said.

A tingling ache climbed up Lucanis’s neck, like fingers scrabbling for purchase on his vertebra. A fairly polite request for the demon. Lucanis rolled his neck to ward off his attempt to take control.

I. WANT. To TALK! Spite stood between Lucanis and the desk, looking between the three mortals with increasing anger.

“I can always see him,” Lucanis said. “And he never stops talking.”

Noooo. You don’t LISTEN!

“And he looks like me, but a demon.”

Neve glanced around the study. “So where is Spite now?”

Lucanis glanced at the demon. He stood beside Bellara, half-crouched and sniffing at her.

Sweet, he said. Like honey.

Lucanis sighed. “He’s standing by Bellara.”

The elf flinched. “Oh! Um. Hi.”

Spite flashed back to stand before Lucanis. Let me TALK!

Lucanis rolled his eyes. “No.”

She wants. To talk. To me!

“No, she doesn’t.”

“What’s he saying?” Bellara asked..

“Nothing,” Lucanis said. “He’s just throwing a tantrum.”

Spite howled.

“Why doesn’t he just control you?” Neve asked.

“I don’t think he can,” Bellara said.

Yes I can! Spite lunged at Lucanis, that icy grip a sudden vise on his spine. Lucanis hissed and shook his head. He felt the briefest flare behind his eyes – knew his gaze flashed violet – before he wrested control away from the demon.

“Enough!”

Judging by the stunned looks on both mages’ faces, it’d been quite the display.

“Or, at least,” Bellara said. “Not whenever he wants.”

“And not without a fight, it seems,” Neve said.

“So… when can he take over?”

Lucanis cracked his neck and felt the last of Spite’s grip slip away. “When I sleep,” he said.

Neve smirked at that. “Explains the four a.m. coffee.”

He shrugged. “I just wanted coffee.”

“It makes sense,” Bellara continued. “You can’t fight him if you’re asleep.”

“Demons are usually drawn to intense emotions,” Neve said. “Has he tried to take over during any more… emotional moments?”

Zara tried!

Lucanis felt his face go blank at the reminder of Zara Renata’s efforts to “unleash” Spite.

Think nothing. FEEL nothing.

That had been his mantra in the Ossuary. Think nothing and feel nothing that did not lead to his escape. There was no Treviso. No coffee. No Illario or Caterina. If he’d let himself long for his life as it had been, he surely would have succumbed to the pain that Venatori witch and her minions dealt with such relish.

Kill herrrrrrr.

“Lucanis?”

He blinked, dragging himself out of spiraling, water-hued thoughts. Neve and Bellara watched him with wary eyes.

He cleared his throat. “Zara tried that.”

Again the women shared a look. He was beginning to think it meant they were worried by something he said.

Worry? Spite sneered. They’d have to LIKE you to worry!

“I don’t know, Lucanis,” Bellara said. “I can try asking the Archive,” she frowned. “If I ever get it to work.”

Neve gave him a grim look. “I hate to say it, but you might be stuck. At least until we can come up with a solution.”

No! NO! Want out NOW!

Lucanis dropped his head into his hands and cursed. Then he took a deep breath and sat up straight.

“Thank you, for trying” he said as he stood. “Both of you.”

“I’m sorry it wasn’t better news,” Neve said. She swatted gently at a wisp that floated a little too close to her face.

“We’ll keep searching,” Bellara said. Her voice was resolute, but they all knew the odds of finding a solution that didn’t end with Lucanis dead were quickly dwindling.

He nodded to them and tried to ignore Spite’s bitter mantra in his ear as he headed back to the dining hall.

Stuck. Stuck. Stuck.

#veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #lucanis dellamorte #spite dellamorte #neve gallus #bellara lutare #himluv's writing tag

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shadowsandshapes · 2 years ago

Text

Smoke and Vanilla (Dabi/afab!Reader)

◇ summary: You shouldn't touch his stuff. You know that, but Dabi's coat looks really comfortable. ◇ rated: General ◇ contains: Fluff? Fluff, Some Possessive Behaviour, Sniffing ◇ wc: [700 words] (Ao3)

Next Chapter: [HERE]

It smelled of smoke.

You shouldn't be surprised, Dabi was always wearing the damn thing when he went out torching heroes and bystanders alike. It would be weird if it didn't smell a little burned. Which reminded you -- why was his coat unattended, draped over the back of the couch right now? You scanned the room, holding your breath as you listened to the silence.

No one's here. You shouldn't mess with someone else's stuff, you knew that, but you were curious. Too curious, some might say. It just looked so comfortable. You narrowed your eyes at the jacket, a single brave hand reaching out to trace the stitching. The fabric was coarse and thick. Must have been heavy to wear, you reckoned, running your fingers over the many staples on the collar. They were cold to the touch.

Your gaze once again traveled around the room -- then back to Dabi's jacket. No one would know. It's not like you would be stealing it, just borrowing. Not to mention, old decrepit hideouts tended to be a bit drafty. Wouldn't want to catch a cold, right? This was stupid, you decided. So stupid. And yet, you lifted the coat from the couch anyway.

What Dabi doesn't know won't hurt him.

Your arms slipped into the sleeves, the collar settling gently around your neck. It was too big, and you felt like you might get lost in all this fabric -- but it was comfortable. Then his scent hit you. You brought the edge of the collar to your nose and took a breath. Ashes. Smoke. Cigarettes and something sweeter you couldn't quite place. Vanilla, maybe? It was -- strangely comforting. You felt warmer already. No wonder Dabi hardly ever parted from this coat.

You settled down on the couch, wrapping the excess fabric around yourself like a little cocoon. The more you entombed yourself up in Dabi's jacket, the more comfortable you became. Legs hiked up, arms crossed and curled up. Like a cat getting ready for a nap. A wiser person wouldn't get this careless, but you liked the challenge of being a dumbfuck every now and then. It didn't even occur to you that the owner of the garment you were currently 'borrowing' might want to reclaim it soon. So, as you felt yourself doze off, you allowed it to happen with a smile on your face.

Now wasn't that just the cutest fucking thing?

Dabi leaned against the doorway, grinning at the sight of you. Knocked out cold with his jacket serving as your blanket. He should be mad -- but the sight of you in his clothes did something to him. Such a defenseless little thing. It was a world of a difference compared to when you were awake. He approached, careful to avoid the creaking floorboards. You stirred, mumbling in your sleep as you pulled the fabric closer -- almost as if you were afraid someone might take it from you. Little thief. Dabi chuckled.

It looked good on you. He looked good on you.

"...Dabi..." you breathed out, grasping the collar of his jacket tightly. For a second, he thought you may have woken up, but then you turned over and went right back to cuddling up into your precious little nest. Blissfully unaware of his presence.

"Dreamin' about me, sweet thing?" He wondered aloud, unable to stop himself from grinning at the thought.

His hand reached down, brushing a few stray strands of hair from your sleeping face. You scrunched your nose but otherwise seemed content with his touch, even leaning into it. Okay, he'd admit it -- you were kind of adorable like this. Dabi wouldn't mind you wearing his clothes more often. Something about it made his blood run hot. It's like you belonged to him. A perfect little gift, wrapped up in his favourite packaging. Entirely his. You seemed to enjoy it too, sweetly mumbling his name in your dreams.

What was going through your pretty little mind right now, he wondered. Dreaming of his hands on your hips -- his lips placing searing hot kisses against your skin? It's not like he was opposed to the idea. In fact, Dabi had had his eye on you for quite some time. All he needed was a good excuse.

"My precious princess," he said almost mockingly -- allowing himself to fall onto the couch next to your sleeping form. Though he loathed to admit it, the idea of you belonging to him, and only him, lit a fire in his gut.

He would let you get away with your thieving just this once. You had no idea what you had set in motion, though. Dabi had made up his mind: you were far too cute to let escape. Other guys could suck it -- he called dibs.

A/N: This was a 4AM scream into the void. Usually, I'm very feral about Dabi but last night all I could think about were soft thoughts. This is so self-indulgent, fuck. I just want to feel safe in his coat. Have his scent calm me. I'm so down bad it's disgusting.

(Ao3) Next Chapter: [HERE]

[Masterlist]

#dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi #mha dabi #dabi my hero academia #ShadesScribbles

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asumofwords · 2 years ago

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: All of your replies, and reblogs, and love make my heart so very full! You are all so sweet, thank you so very much! I wish I could reply but I am a dumby who made this blog as a secondary one and tumblr wont let me reply with this account :( this chapter was so bittersweet to write. Currently writing another Aemond POV chapter from this story since you all loved the last one, and will post soon! <3 Thank you all again for all the love you show this fic! <3

Chapter 40: Tales from the dead

It was as if your body was on autopilot. Your feet pushed you forward as fast as you could go, racing toward the two figures, pushing past the pain in your side, or the burning in your lungs.

There they were. They were real. In front of you.

Home.

And nothing in the world could have prepared you for this moment. You could not think, could not do anything, but run towards them with every bit of strength you had left.

“Y/n?” Queen Rhaenyra’s voice cut across the open air, uncertain as your body ran towards them both.

“Mother!” You cried out, as you got closer.

Your father beside her tensed as he watched you. You could see their faces now, Rhaenyra in complete disbelief and Daemon in shock. Your side ached terribly but you pushed on.

Rhaenyra broke away from the path running towards you, hands clenched in her skirts, holding them up as her Knight followed behind her. You ran as fast as your legs could take you, feet slapping against the cold stone as you got closer to each other, when suddenly your bodies collided together.

You clutched at her robes as she held the back of your head, crying loudly, pressing kisses to the side of your face. You could feel her chest rise and fall, and shake as she sobbed. You inhaled the smell of your mother, and that was when it hit you.

You were home.

The dam inside of you broke, and the tears began to fall. You could be strong for them and you would, but in this moment, you could not hold it back. All of the loss, all of that grief and pain, every single part of your experience flooded out of you.

Queen Rhaenyra pulled you back at arms length, looking at you for visible injury, and to reassure herself that you were truly there with her. Her eyes were dark, and face wet with tears. Those beautiful eyes you loved so much, red and raw.

You smiled through it all as you sobbed, before the voice of your father caught your attention.

“Y/n?”

Daemon stood behind your mother looking at you, still in shock, mouth agape. He was dressed in all black as usual, with the Dark Sister blade at his side. He had large bags beneath his eyes, and even his usually neat hair looked as though he had combed many a stressed hand through the silver white strands.

His eyes were glassy.

You nodded your head tearily at him and sobbed louder before he broke the spell, wrapping his arms around both you and your mother. You cried loudly into their arms as they held you tightly. Your father pressing a soft kiss to your head, sniffing into your hair.

The Rogue Prince pulled back, looking down at you, eyes wild searching your face.

“How?”

You craned your neck and looked behind you to the two brothers who stood watching the teary reunion.

“They helped.” You spoke through your tears, smiling gratefully at the two men whose backs straightened as your mother gazed at both of them.

“It is not as valiant as she tells it to be.” Darras awkwardly intoned.

His brother gave him an irritated look.

“I promised them gold.”

Your mother looked at both of them as they waited with bated breath for the Queen or King Consorts reaction.

“Give them whatever they want.” Daemon purred to your mothers Knight, before turning his attention back to you.

“Thank you.” Rhaenyra spoke to the Dornish men behind you, voice soft as she still held you.

Sumayl and Darras bowed their heads.

“Come.” The Rogue Prince gently spoke to you and your mother, turning as he began to lead you back up the path to the castle in front of you.

You stopped in your tracks, before letting go of your mother for one second, turning to walk alone back to the two brothers. You threw your arms over Darras roughly, pulling him into a sharp hug before gently kissing his cheek.

“Thank you.” You whispered to them both, nodding your head at Sumayl who watched with a softer expression.

“You were not lying.” He stated.

“I was not.”

“Then we are rich men.”

“You are.”

You looked at Darras once more before holding his hand.

“Please do good by her.”

“I swear this to you, as I did before.” The Dornish man smiled, before you let go of his hand, walking back up to your mothers side who held you close, as your father flanked your other side hovering over you.

It did not feel real.

You walked up the path together in a blur, your surroundings flying rapidly as you felt your heart beating in your chest. The halls were still the same, the walls were just as you remembered, and there was warmth from the fires inside.

But there was something amiss.

There was no loud laughter to be heard, nor the racing footsteps of your brothers, nor the recounting of stories in broken High Valyrian. For all that was the same, the castle felt still with the absence of your brother.

There were no books strewn about your chambers as you were escorted there. There were no snacks on the table, half eaten with crumbs left behind by greedy hands. There was no cloak, or coat or jacket, thrown haphazardly on the chair, or chaise, or bed, by a boy who had grown warm by the fire.

The emptiness in the room stifled you.

Your bed had been made, your sheets had been changed, and the fireplace was still lit in your absence, waiting for your return. And although the room was full of your two maids who doted on you, and the Maester and your parents, you still could not help but feel alone.

Even when Joffrey came to your side, and your eldest brother came and gripped you so hard you could not breathe, and the pain in your side caused you to cry out, and all those around you rushed to inspect what was wrong, there was still something missing.

There was no small mop of brown hair in your room. No small boy to laugh at your silly jokes, or listen to your tales of Old Valyria. There was no small boy to eat dates with in secret, or fall asleep beside the fireplace as he told you stories of ghosts. There was no little boy who was scared of the sea, or becoming the Lord of Driftmark.

He was gone.

And with him, a piece of you died.

And as you sat in shock in your chambers which suddenly began to suffocate you, you could not help but notice that he was not there to comfort your anxiety, to hold your hand and soothe you. His cherubic smile was not there to assure you that everything would work itself out.

There was a stillness to the castle that had not been there before.

The brave little Velaryon boy who had stood up to his uncle with a blade was no longer. The small boy who loved so deeply, no longer existed. Your brother was gone.

Lucerys was dead.

And the castle was still.

Your surroundings rushed back around you and suddenly your father was standing before your face, uttering your name softly in concern.

You blinked. Once. Twice. And felt your face wet with tears. You sniffed and apologised softly, as you looked about the room.

Your two maids stood by the fire, stoking the flames whilst peering back at you in concern. The Maester had brought more maids to the room with medical supplies, and had begun to fuss about the table beside you as you sat numbly.

Your mother stood at your side, stroking your hair gently as she watched you with hawk like eyes, whilst your brother, Jacaerys stood beside her, watching you in concern.

“Sorry.” You cleared your throat.

“My sweet, there is nothing to be sorry for.”

If only they knew the truth.

You felt that vile wave surge inside you again, grief clawing its way up your throat as you looked down in your hands. You fought against the tide that surged within, its dark thick crest rising inside of you. You began to drown in it, falling deeper and deeper into its swell as it dragged you down, reality catching up to you.

You had been in survival mode for so long, that now that you stopped, you felt yourself slipping. You sucked in a ragged breath as your ears rang. You cleared your throat again, sniffing as the ringing disappeared and the surge subsided.

The Maester spoke again, in a tone that alluded to him having asked you once, or perhaps even twice already.

“Where are you injured, Princess?” The old man asked.

Numbly you pulled the large shirt from beneath the loose breeches, pulling it up your side as you leant to expose the makeshift bandages that Darras had given you. You felt your mothers hand still against the back of your head.

“May I?” The Maester asked.

You nodded, looking away, eyes fixating on a spot on the floor by the fire. You had sat there before many times. Reading, or drinking or eating with Lucerys. Playing games with him and your brothers. Teaching him High Valyrian, listening to his ghost tales. And despite the spot being before the flames of the fire, it looked cold. Empty.

Still.

The Maester's steady hands began to softly and slowly, as to not hurt or frighten you, unravel the rags from your side.

Time stood still.

Your mother gasped quietly beside you, as the last of the rags were pulled away. The Maester came closer inspecting the injury as you felt the hot gaze of two violet eyes staring at the wound.

Your gaze moved from the floor to the Rogue Prince, who stood in front of you. His hand was clenched on the hilt of the Dark Sister blade, whilst the other was stiff beside him. His eyes were burning with rage as they never left your side, jaw tensed and nostrils flaring.

“Princess,” The Maester began, unsure of how to continue, “These are quite extensive.”

“How?” Your mother blurted.

“Aemond.” You uttered, voice quiet in the room.

A flash of black moved in front of you, as Daemon began to storm out the chambers, hand on the hilt of his blade, fury rolling off of his tense shoulders.

“Where are you going?” Your mother called across the room.

“Where do you think? I am going to end this as we should have in the beginning. With their heads mounted on spikes.” Daemon spat.

“Kepa.” (Father) You softly called out to him.

His eyes flicked to yours as you called.

“Please.” You begged. "I have only just got you back."

The Rogue Prince stood as he made a hard decision, unsure of how to react as he stared at you, watching him in anticipation. The Prince looked at his wife, before back you, and slowly made his way back over, standing in front of you again, watching as the Maester continued to inspect your side.

His gentle fingers prodded at what was left of the stitches. Humming as he softly wiped you with a wet cloth. The cloth stung as it touched your wound and you grunted, flinching away.

“It seems that they treated your injury whilst in the Red Keep.”

You nodded down at the healer.

“You’ve healed well.”

You nodded again. The cloth stroked you gently.

“Though I see you have torn some stitches here.” His finger hovered above the open part of your wound, which had begun to heal thickly beneath.

“New bruising.” The man muttered to himself as he looked on.

“New?” Your father asked.

Maester Gerardys hummed, finger hovering around your side where the stitches has pulled loose, dark bruising blooming from the edges, underneath the old yellowed bruises.

You did not look up, nor did you attempt to.

You did not have the strength to meet your fathers eyes just yet, or recount your days in the Keep, or tell them of Aegon’s assault. Or how you spent days in your room listening to the wails and cries of your aunt at their hands.

Or how you fell into the depths of a storm after watching the brother you failed to protect, be crushed by Vhagar’s jaws. Or how you watched your own dragon be attacked as you plummeted towards the sea below, unable to do anything.

You found that you did not even have the strength to tell them you were okay.

Nor did you have the strength to lie.

The wave began to build inside you again.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes

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ghoul-slime · 1 year ago

Text

Confectionery

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2,087

Pairing: Aether/Dew/Swiss

Tags: threesome, ghouls in heat, armpit fetish, sweaty ghouls, fingering, implied dp, squirting, little bit of foot licking, poly ghouls

Summary:

When Dew goes into heat, it draws every ghoul in the abbey out. The sweet, heady scent of the small fire ghoul’s arousal calls to them, drives them tense and hungry, sniffing around the band ghoul quarters in hopes of getting their claws into his desperate, willing flesh.

When Dew goes into heat, he’s greedy. He wants whoever he can get, however he can get them, as many times as they’ll give it to him. But as much as all the other ghouls want a taste of him, and as happy as Dew is to give it to them, they almost never get there in time.

When Dew goes into heat, Aether and Swiss are always the first to claim him.

or read on tumblr here:

When Dew goes into heat, Aether and Swiss are always the first to claim him.

Already high off the smell of him, the two ghouls stalk down the hall towards Dew’s room. In a moment’s time they’re mindlessly hungry, moving forward on instinct and with one purpose. Salivating and ravenous for it. Claws flexing and sharp, white fangs glistening with drool, they converge at Dew’s door to claim their prize.

Inside they find Dew laid out on the bed completely bare and waiting for whoever finds him first. He plays with himself while he waits, patience growing thinner by the minute, a sheen of sweat glistening across every inch of his heated skin.

Dew’s scent hits them like a wall, thick and cloying, smelling of sweet cinnamon sugar with a hint of smoky ash. All under ridden by the unmistakable smell of sweat and slick. Of sex.

Dew’s eyes are clouded and unfocused as he ruts his hips up into the air, spreads his thighs in invitation to the two hungry ghouls hastily tearing at their own clothing and stalking up to his bedside.They descend at the same time, sinking to the bed and flanking Dew, who arches his back off the sheets with a whine, writhing with need at the feel of the two bigger ghouls pressing themselves against him.

Swiss and Aether are all over him in an instant. Big, strong hands feeling their way across the warm expanse of Dew’s flushed skin. Soft flesh, pink and plush, warm with want. So sensitive and inviting.

Aether skims his hands up Dew’s torso, across his flat little chest, smoothing wide palms and calloused fingertips across his nipples, sensitive and rosy, stiff little peaks threaded through with shiny silver rings. He brings one hand up to Dew’s neck, curling his fingers around his throat, not pressing or squeezing but feeling. Feeling his steady, beating pulse thudding with anticipation. Feeling the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallows thickly. Aether presses his nose into Dew’s temple and inhales, groaning at the changing scent of him, Dew’s arousal kicking up into high gear, growing sweeter and more intoxicating by the second.

Swiss trails his hands down Dew’s belly, spreading thick fingers to grasp at bony little hips, pinning his writhing frame to the sheets, pressing bruises into fair skin, sharp nails leaving angry, red indents into supple flesh. Across from Aether, he inhales too, growling deep in his chest at the smell of Dew’s heat. He presses his face into Dew’s temple, nosing along his hairline as he breathes him in deep enough to taste the arousal on his tongue.

Dew tips his head back, giving the two larger ghouls more access to the expanse of his throat. Swiss licks a long, wet stripe up the side of Dew’s neck, pausing to suck a bruise into the skin, drawing a needy whine from his lips. Aether noses his way down the side of Dew’s face, breathing heavily until he’s sucking the lobe of Dew’s ear into his mouth, licking wet and messy around the shell of his ear, chasing the scent and taste of him.

Pressed between the two larger ghouls, Dew can feel his body heating up. The more Aether and Swiss grind against him, suck and lick at his flesh, paw at his body with greedy hands, the more Dew’s body responds to the attention. Scent kicking up high as he sweats, as beads of pre bubble up from the wet slit of his hard little cock, as slick starts to dribble from between his cheeks. The smell of him, desperate for cock, body begging to be fucked and filled, to be claimed, drives Swiss and Aether out of their minds.

Dew smells so fucking good it’s all they can do to chase down the source of that intoxicating scent. They roam his body with their mouths, panting and snuffing across Dew’s skin. Swiss presses his face to the crown of Dew’s head, burying his nose into fine, silky blond hair. Aether moves south, planting a trail of wet kisses and licks across his body as he crawls down between Dew’s legs, burying his nose into the thatch of soft blond hair above the base of his cock.

Swiss follows not long after, licking and nipping at Dew’s chest, then his thigh, and down his calf until he stops where Aether has his legs held up and spread apart. He licks a wet stripe up the flat of Dew’s raised foot, reveling in the sound the little ghoul makes. At how he throws his head back and cries out at the sensation, toes curling and calf muscles flexing at the tickle of Swiss’ tongue pressed against the sole of his foot.

But Swiss and Aether are greedy too, and they want more. They push and pull Dew between them, pinning his arms above his head in a mirror image of each other. Aether dips his head, pressing his nose into Dew’s exposed armpit and inhales, eyes rolling back and groaning at how good, how sweet, how concentrated Dew’s arousal is from this angle.

Swiss follows suit, nosing into Dew’s other armpit, pressing his nose into heated skin lightly damp with sweat. It smells so good. Like Dew amped up to a thousand. It’s syrupy-sweet and rich, but there’s more to it. Swiss inhales, breathes it in through his nose and out through his mouth, tasting the depth of Dew’s scent. He finds warm cinnamon and smoky campfire, and beneath that, hints of toasted sugar and honey. It’s Dew, and the smell of it goes straight to his cock. He inhales again, but this time he’s driven by the need to taste.

Swiss presses his face into Dew’s armpit, ravenous for it, dragging the flat of his tongue up the expanse of it, drawing a sharp cry from Dew. He licks again, tracing his tongue through the fine hair at the concave of Dew’s pit, tasting the sweet scent of Dew’s heat and a tantalizing hint of sweat. He presses nose into the skin and laps at him, reveling in the way Dew squirms, at how he humps his hips into the air as Swiss works him up with his tongue.

Aether licks at him in a mirror image of Swiss, one big hand wrapped around a delicate wrist, holding Dew’s arm above his head and against the pillows. The more he licks the sweeter he tastes, the higher pitched and more desperate his breathy little cries become. The more Dew wriggles and writhes, flexes the muscles of his stomach, spreads his thighs and curls his toes.

Dew could cum like this, with Swiss and Aether licking into him this way, holding him open and exposed, wet, greedy tongues probing and tasting him in a way more intimate than if they were licking him out between his quivering thighs. His cock kicks out a blurb of pre and he feels another wave of slick dribble out between his cheeks, pooling wet and cool beneath his ass on the sheets.

He whines for it, begging wordlessly for more. His heat is driving his need to be filled up and taken apart. He groans again, long and drawn out. It echoes off the walls of his bedroom, demanding and impatient. It momentarily gets the attention of Swiss and Aether, who pull away long enough to lock eyes with each other over the heaving expanse of Dew’s skinny little chest.

Together they trail their hands down Dew’s belly.

Swiss stops to curl a hand around Dew’s straining cock while Aether slips his middle finger between Dew’s cheeks, gathering slick and pushing inside with ease. Dew arches off the bed, and Swiss and Aether turn their attention back to the task at hand. Licking at every inch of exposed flesh they can get their mouths on. Nipping at Dew’s chest, laving at his pierced nipples, snuffing their noses into his armpits, sucking bruises into his neck.

Aether ruts his cock into Dew’s side as he fingers him. Dew is so wet between his legs that his slick flows past Aether’s finger, pooling in his palm and dribbling down to the bedsheets. Dew keens as Aether pushes back in deep and wiggles his finger, wet sounds filling the room as Aether pets the deepest parts of him from the inside.

Swiss relinquishes his grip on Dew’s cock to join Aether between his legs. Trailing the tip one finger around Dew’s rim, stretched around where Aether is buried inside him. Feeling the pool of slick and the way Dew’s puffy little hole winks and flutters around Aether’s finger. He bites down on one of Dew’s nipples as he breaches him with the tip of his finger, sliding in alongside Aether already working in and out of him. Dew howls with pleasure, arching his back and curling his toes, doing his best to grind his hips down onto the two fingers stretching him open. His cock kicks out another blurb of precum onto his stomach as Swiss pushes inside to the last knuckle, until he and Aether are sunk into him as far as they can go.

Swiss catches sight of Aether across from him, eyes squeezed shut, red faced and sweating, drooling into the crevice of Dew’s armpit as he grinds his hips against his writhing body. Swiss groans at the sight and pulls back out, feeling the wet slip of his finger alongside Aether’s before he’s pushing it back in, sliding in and out, back and forth, in tandem with Aether’s rapid pace.

Inside, Dew is wet, hot, and tight. Slick walls spasming and clenching against the intrusion of the two larger ghoul’s thick fingers inside him. Dew relishes in the feeling of being pressed between them, of being spread open and stretched, pulled and prodded at, at the feeling of sharp fangs and wet mouths across the expanse of his skin. The way they both hump and rut against him, the heat of them driving his own body temperature up even higher. The sensations are almost too much, but his lust-addled brain still screams out for more, desperate to be claimed by the two ghouls working his body.

Aether and Swiss push in at the same time and Dew cums with a shout, eyes rolling back and body spasming. His vision goes fuzzy around the edges as he cums hard, painting his belly with ropes of white and squirting out a stream of slick as his muscles clamp down around the fingers still inside him.

Dew heaves in lungfuls of air, vision clearing as he feels Swiss and Aether draw out of him, leaving his hole empty and dripping. He groans at the loss, sweaty and panting between the two larger ghouls still flanking him. His orgasm took the edge off, but he’s still hot and aching to be fucked, the smell and feel of the two larger ghouls driving his heat into full force.

He wants more than just their fingers filling him up.

He whines for it until he feels his body being lifted off the soaked sheets, until he’s being pushed and pulled and lifted as Swiss and Aether rearrange themselves on the bed, facing each other and sandwiching Dew’s spent, sweaty body between them. Dew’s head lolls back against Swiss’ shoulder as they push themselves together, as Aether grasps his own cock together with Swiss’ in one big fist. Aether pants into his ear and Swiss mouths at his neck, tonguing at his pulsepoint and worrying the skin with his fangs while they rearrange his legs and spread his ass. Together he and Aether ease him down until he’s hovering just above them, feeling the wet, sticky heads of their cocks kissing his rim.

When they start to push up inside him, Dew throws his head back and wails.

#aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #aether/dew #swiss/dew #aether/dew/swiss #ghost band fanfic #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #ghoul-slime fic #swiss x dewdrop #aether x dewdrop #this fic probably appeals to one person only (me)

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sky-kiss · 1 year ago

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A/N: Can't sleep. And horrible, horrible, unholy creatures prompted for soft ascended fiend. Please understand, any additional ficlets this week will be horrific and dark to counterbalance this crime.

Also. Using my OC (which I don't do here) to cheat this prompt. In an established universe. HAH.

Ascended Fiend Raphael: You think he chuffs? I think he chuffs.

“He’s making a mess of the place.”

“Well, we wanted to see what he was capable of?”

Haarlep fixes her with a withering look, lips pressing to a thin line. Their face is naturally expressive; Joi has the distinct pleasure of watching all his thoughts pass across his face without pretense or restraint. The sum of these parts amounts to an unambiguous: you fucking dolt.

“We knew. The princeling wanted to showboat. And now look.”

The fiend continues its rampage through the arena, tail lashing behind it, wings spread. Its fires burn brighter than ever, hot enough to leave the entirety of the building sweltering. A tinge of iron hangs in the air, married to sulfur and the sickly sweetness of charred flesh. Raphael has been neither subtle nor graceful in his carnage: the room is a mess of gore, devils, and demons alike.

A bolt of hellfire tears from its right hand, ripping across the arena. The Abishai screams in agony, briefly sputtering before its form gives way. Ash flutters about the arena, and the fiend howls its delight.

He’s beautiful, she thinks. All the wrath of the Hells made manifest. Raphael lifts his head, scenting the air. Robbed of his toys and the distraction of live prey, it looks for alternate means of entertainment. The creature’s good eyes fix upon them.

“If the brute comes over here, I’ll sacrifice you,” Haarlep grumbles.

She pats their chest. “I’m well aware.” He’s done it before; he’ll do it again. The incubus intends to outlive them all. “Help me down?”

Their expression twists with savage delight. “As the lady wishes.”

Haarlep holds her elbow as she climbs over the arena’s edge. The distance makes her dizzy, forty or fifty down into the pit, necessary for some of the beasts the Archduke houses below. Flight is an option, but it’s easier to fall, whispering the familiar incantation to make herself feather-light.

The fiend shrieks. Raphael’s voice bleeds into the bestial sound, one note among many; she holds onto this familiarity as it tears across the remaining space, hellfire, and claws. She swallows.

The claws of its right-hand curl around her waist, pressing just to the point of pain. Some break flesh. Raphael huffs again, sniffing, hot gusts of air ruffling her hair. Joi holds out her hand.

It kneels. The distance between them remains too great, the size difference too vast. The fiend hauls her nearer, chuffing, nuzzling the center skull against her chest. She trails the tips of her nails across his forehead, ignoring the hiss of pain in her side and the blood staining his jaws.

“You’ve upset Haarlep, dear one.” One could be forgiven for mistaking the sound it makes for a laugh. If nothing else, her duke preens, wings stretching to their full span. It tries to get nearer, to close what little invisible space exists between them, recognizing its scent on her skin. It purrs. “They worked very hard to find you all these toys…”

“...and he’s broken them immediately.” The incubus snaps, voice echoing around them. “Ungrateful little brat.”

"They're going to be insufferable tonight. You understand this, yes?" The right head’s expression twists in some approximation of glee. Joi shakes her head, cooing to the great beast until it finally sets her down. She kisses its ruined skull, motioning it to follow her towards the holding pens. Perhaps they will find new prey among the wastes; perhaps she’ll indulge its appetites.

So much potential. So little time.

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael x durge #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #my writing #do you want cavities?#because this is how you get cavities #oc: joi #ascended fiend raphael

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bluestar22x · 14 days ago

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Finding Eden: Chapter 6

Summary: You and Zach spend the winter at the cabin

Pairing: Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2,510(ish)

Author’s Note: Back at it and I hope this was worth the wait over holiday break

xxx

So I found this tiny notebook in the kitchen "junk drawer" and thought if Zach has a journal, why not me? Not that he really writes in his, he just uses it to try to keep track of time as best as he can. The more years that pass, the less accurate he'll be. He knows which months have 30 days or 31, but he doesn't know which February will have a leap day or if he's ever forgotten to make note of a day or two. It all adds up, but he says it's better than nothing. Knowing a little something about the time that has passed matters to him, so it matters.

I'm feeling silly about starting this journal now. I haven't kept a personal one since I was fifteen years old. Why bother now? No one's gonna read it. And where do I start? Do I explain everything - what happened to the world, how I met Zach, etc.? Or do I just jump right in?

I think I'll start with: We found a cabin. This cabin. It's been a couple months since then. The fishing in the lake has been surprisingly good and Zach's managed to kill a deer and a few hares since we've been here, so we haven't gone a single day hungry since we moved in.

The back up generator is getting low on fuel. But when we run out, we'll just do our best with the lamps and fireplace. We have already been using the latter to cook.

Huh. I think I know why I started this now. I miss telling other people what's going on in my life. I miss telling stories about my week. I miss my family. My brother...he was a shockingly good listener. Wise beyond his years. I miss telling him stuff. Zach's good at listening too, but I don't do much talking nowadays. I don't want to think too much about the past, and he knows everything about my day cause he's always there right beside me.

You'd think we'd get on each other's nerves, but usually the most heated argument is over when we should do a chore. He likes getting them done in the morning, but I like working in the afternoons.

I do have my ways of convincing him that delaying the chores is better. Ones tried and true throughout human history. Turns out Zach is not immune and we both benefit.

Anyway, we're doing well. Athena (sweet doggie) is also doing well. I hope wherever my family is, whether they're dead or alive, know this. I miss them, but I'm okay. I miss them, but I've found some good again. And I am trying not to feel guilty about that because that's what mom taught me. That I can only do my best and that I shouldn't be ashamed for living my life.

At least I can promise I won't take any good fortune thrown my way for granted.

You put down the blue ink pen in your hand and shut the notebook on your lap before standing from the couch to put it away in the empty nightstand - the condoms that you'd found there that first day at the cabin long since used up.

You and Zach spent a lot of time working inside and outside the cabin daily, doing anything from snow shoveling to cleaning ashes out of the fireplace, but the nights were for exploring each other, for doing something more than surviving.

Night was still hours away after you'd finished your first journal entry so you bundled up and left the warmth of the indoors to head for the frozen lake.

You could see Zach and Athena out on it from afar, the dog a moving tan mass, sniffing around with great interest while the man sat relaxed in a collapsible camping chair by a small hole he'd carved in the ice, a fishing pole held in his right hand.

It was a cold day, but not too cold. The sky was cloudy, but it wasn't snowing. It was as close to perfect weather for an inland winter day in Canada, a time when and a place where clear skies usually meant brutally low temperatures.

You reached them in a few minutes, rubbing your gloved hands together. "How's it going?"

"Got enough to last us another few days," Zach replied.

The fishing line became taut and you reached for the pole. "Let me reel this one in."

He smiled. "Be my guest."

You were no noob to fishing. It had been your father's go-to outdoor activity, his way of bonding with you, since you'd refused to go deer hunting with him, unable to bear the idea of killing anything with fur on it. You'd eventually learned how to prep deer meat with your parents and brother, but even after the US failed, you couldn't bare pulling the trigger on a cute, innocent animal. You'd tried a few times, but had missed every shot despite you knowing how to use a gun, so Zach had designated himself hunter.

The fish on the line was surprisingly fast, but you'd pulled in a 25 pound lake trout once, and this felt much smaller.

Sure enough, with some patience, the fish tired and you reeled in the twenty inch long whitefish and threw it in Zach's cooler with the handful of smaller fish he'd caught throughout the late morning and early afternoon.

"Maybe I should leave you to this," he mused. "That's the biggest fish I've seen all winter."

"I already told you I'd gladly take over fishing duties," you said. "I'm not afraid of a little cold. But you insisted."

"I like it out here," he reminded you, "And there's only one fishing pole."

"Oh, so it was purely selfish, I see," you teased.

You knew the truth. Zach was a tiny bit old fashioned. He liked being the provider. He didn't expect you to be the caretaker, but you'd also fallen into old ways and become the cook and cleaner. You both helped each other when you could though, by no means limiting yourselves to the roles.

"Got me." He shut back the lid to the cooler and stood up. "With that, I think I'll head back and gut these unlucky few."

"I'll help," you offered.

He simply nodded.

Night came fast, as it always did in deep winter, but with your bellies full, you and Zach didn't dread it. Nights were your time together, to just be and to enjoy each other. That didn't always mean sex, but it often did.

Some nights you'd guide him to the bedroom, kiss him, undress, and climb onto his lap to eagerly to slide down onto him, and he'd hold you tight as you started to move, bury his face into the curve of your neck.

Other nights you followed him to bed.

Still other nights you'd be lying in bed together side by side, perfectly content, only to find yourselves tangled in the sheets together again moments later, giving and taking. Your sharp inhales and exhales mixing, filling the room.

You'd had a few boyfriends before Zach, but you'd never wanted them so often as you did him.

It wasn't just because you lived in a world more uncertain than it had ever been in your lifetime, or because it made you forget for a time that the world was crueler than it had been less than a decade before.

It was also because without using words, Zach made you feel loved, wholly, without exception.

Your mother had once told you that real love was messy, that it couldn't compare to the ones in the novels teen you once read with fervor, but you think it's just way more scarce, if it wasn't better. Zach had his faults, but he had been your safe person, your sanctuary, since the day you met, and you had never felt more understood by any other person in your life. Your trust in him deepened with every brush of his calloused fingertips, every kiss stolen by his soft lips, and therefore your connection did too.

That night after the successful fishing day you took each other to the bedroom as soon as the dishes were washed and Athena had gone on a potty break outside, shutting the door behind you to make sure she couldn't interrupt.

Neither of you wasted any time, quickly finding yourself flat on the bed naked, his body on top of yours and his hands everywhere, consuming most of your thoughts. Where they were, how big they were, and how rough they were yet paradoxically gentle at the same time.

What other thoughts you had related to his smell. You had become acutely aware of what Zach smelled like by then. His scent was a lot like yours due to your living conditions - woody, earthy, with a pleasant tinge of sweat. The only difference was the unique masculine scent that he had that you couldn't put into words. You just knew you liked it.

You found a rhythm together soon after, working equally to build each other up, sharing glances and touches and encouraging words that were both sweet and dirty. With all your practice, it wasn't long before you came undone with one last look to where you were joined together, and he pulled away from you to finish on your stomach.

Once your breathing evened out you both cleaned yourselves up and you snatched a jar of honey from a kitchen cabinet to snack on in bed.

Zach joined you again in an increasingly more common relaxed state, casually sprawling upside down in the bed, eventually finding himself pinned under one of your legs, kissing up your bare thigh. You had put on a tank top and underwear that matched his black pants, but he didn't try to remove them. Instead, he gave you a peck to an exposed patch of sensitive skin near you knee and you pitched forward, giggling.

"How are you ticklish there?" he asked incredulously, chuckling.

You dipped your right index finger into the honey jar for another taste and shrugged. "I don't know. Why are you ticklish behind your ear?"

He grinned. "Fair point."

"Want some?" you inquired, licking your finger clean before digging for more honey.

"Sure." He leaned over you and you slipped your honey coated finger into his mouth so he could suck on it, wrap his tongue around it. "Mmmm."

It was erotic, it reminded you of what his talented mouth could and did do to you, but you were sated and satisfied with lounging around with him for the time being, so you just smiled at him.

It faded when you thought about spring being just two months away.

"I wish we could stay here," you confessed. "It's nice, just the two of us and Athena. Am I crazy for thinking that?"

Zach stroked your thigh reassuringly. "You're not. It is nice here. But it'll only be nice until the propane is completely out and the fish stop biting or one of us gets hurt and needs medical attention. If Eden's real, it will be better for us in the long run."

You nodded and sighed. "I know. I know. I'm romanticizing this place."

He shrugged. "Hard not to. It's idealistic. Quiet. And it's not like I miss society. I miss the conveniences that came with it, but in case you've never noticed, I'm not extremely social, and never was. When I was in the marines, that was as social as I ever got. My squad. They meant a lot to me."

There was a hint of melancholy injected in his words, and you wondered silently if he was thinking of any teammates lost in the war, or if he was thinking about the odds of the ones who survived it still being alive. It hurt your heart, knowing from your father that the bond between fellow soldiers was often tight. It had to be for their survival.

"You mean a lot to me," Zach added softly, drawing you back to the present and making your chest warm.

You beamed at him. You hadn't needed the confession, but you were grateful all the same to hear it in words. "You mean a lot to me too."

You traced his chiseled cheekbones with your fingertips fondly.

"Promise that won't change in Eden?"

"Promise," he murmured seriously, kissing your palm after.

"Good."

It was only a couple weeks later that things started to go south. For one, the last propane tank emptied and you were forced to rely on the fireplace and oil lamps scattered around the cabin.

Most importantly though your food supply became low. You and Zach hadn't seen a deer or rabbit in weeks, and had finished off the cans in the cupboards. The fish weren't even biting like they used to, and it seemed the ones you both caught were getting smaller and smaller.

Your luck was running out, and it weighed heavy on you both. It was still early to leave, but the cabin's safety and warmth wouldn't be worth starvation.

Mulling over what to do, when to pull the trigger and leave, Zach spent a morning chopping wood, not sure if he was ever going to feed them to the fireplace, but not caring. Sometimes hard work brought clarity to him.

Around mid-morning you joined him outside. He could feel your presence before he saw you, his back turned to the front door when you walked through it.

When you didn't speak right away, he couldn't help but smile, knowing that you were watching him. Admiring the view, as you'd put it before. You'd mentioned once or twice that you loved how his arm muscles twitched and flexed while he worked. He knew you couldn't see them under his thick winter jacket, but he doubted that stopped you from recalling what they looked like the night before, holding you.

He kept working, letting you observe him, admittedly enjoying the flattering attention.

"Should we leave now?" you questioned, and he could picture the look on your face, the way your eyebrows pinched and you bit your lip in worry. "Would it be safer to stay or not?"

Zach turned to you and seeing that expression on your face made him wish he could make it disappear, but he couldn't lie. "It's a risk either way, you know that. But more and more I think it'll be worse if we stay here when the wildlife has clearly moved on."

You deflated, disappointed, but you nodded. "I'll start packing."

Early the next morning, you both were on the move once more, backpacks stuffed as much as physically possible.

You didn't look back at the cabin in fear you would decide to turn around if you did, but Athena paced for a while, and you could've sworn she whined as you left the opening in the forest that had temporarily been your home.

You'd never related to an animal more.

xxx

Tagged: @musings-of-a-rose @morallyinept @harriedandharassed @love-affair-with-fandoms @captain-jebi

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#Zach Wellison #Brothers & Sisters #Zach Wellison Fanfic (Mine)#Brothers & Sisters Fanfic #X Reader #Finding Eden Series

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darklydeliciousdesires · 11 months ago

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NEW STORY!

I'm not even sure how long this will be yet, but I'm saying short, multi-part so far! Where my Luca gals at? File up and form an orderly queue, because Nobody's Girl is arriving soon! A little mood board and teaser below for you!

Meet Emily Jane, my new OC. She's a little different to my usual bold, strong OC's, a sweet little flower of a girl, and the direct opposite of Luca in just about every way she could be.

“Am I safe here, Luca?”

He sniffed, running his long, tapered fingers through his hair, his magnetic green eyes moving from the street below over to her. “From them, yes. But maybe not from me.”

She gulped, and he saw it, the fear flashing through the storm grey of her eyes, moving to crouch before her, resting his hands upon her thighs. “Not like that, honey. I ain’t gonna hurt you, but the more time I spend with you, the more I fuckin’ want you more than any other woman I’ve ever met.”

And he did. He wanted her so badly, it drove him to maddened distraction. She was unlike the women of his past, the fiery Italian broads who matched his ire and deafened his senses with their brashness. This dainty, quiet little creature was all sweetness and softness, a light he knew the dark in him was drawn to, a perpetual moth to her flame.

He wanted to sink his teeth into her, eat her like a ripe summer peach, but he held himself back, resisted the urge. She was too delicate for it, for the lust that prowled through his veins like a fire breathing dragon. His heat, he knew, would burn her to ashes, yet Luca never assumed for one minute that Emily actually wanted to feel his fire against her skin.

After all, she’d handled much worse than a horny Changretta.

Reaching for his face, her dainty fingers toured the scars, shuffling nearer to the edge of the bed, the potent smell of his skin and cologne heady upon her senses. Her touch rained like rose petals over everything in him that was hard and foreboding, her fingernail idly tracing the black cross marked upon the side of his neck.

“Maybe I want you just as much.”

#luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x ofc #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta fic #adrien brody

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ultimatecryptid · 2 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

ostagar fic is chugging along! thought id give a sneak peak ;]

gently tagging @ghostwise @mamawasatesttube @brother-genitivi (are gif wips a thing 👀?) and 🫵you, person reading this looking for an excuse to post smth unpolished

In the center of the fortress was a kennel [would em say kennel? pen?] There were a dozen and a half people leaning over the fence, letting the dogs lick portions of their meal from their fingers and cooing over their tongues. It was sweet. The Ash Warriors had told Emery these were war dogs, but they looked like babies just now. Safely locked in the heart of the wrecked fortress.

"Hey, you there." Em jumped back, stepping away from where she'd been on her tip-toes to see over the fence. "You're one of the new Grey Wardens, aren't you?" An old woman was tying knots alone on a stump, just outside a doghouse. "Come here." She sounded used to being listened to. Emery spared a glance at the humans across the pen before hopping over the bars.

"Aisleen went down last night and without her this little one started scavenging the darkspawn. I took care of Aisleen—don't you worry about her—but without your help, I'll have to kill this one too."

"I don't know anything about mabari."

The woman raised her eyebrows at Em's incredulous [good word technically, but not vibes wise. skeptical doesn't get across the surprise im aiming for though…] face. "I guessed," she sniffed. "Good you don't have to, you just need to pick something up for me."

#ultimatecryptid writing #oc emery brosca #sooo many dogs in ostagar pt 1 #and it HAS been going slowly but i think ive got the structure nailed down!

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miss-celestia13 · 7 months ago

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Lost Scenes Thursday! Get to know your favourite authors better. Show five scenes from either abandoned fics where you regret they will never see the light of day, or five scenes from WIPs where you are impatient to see them out there. Long, short, one-liner... it's all good reading. Tag five other authors where you are curious.

(feel free to ignore it though :))

Ooh, thank you for tagging me, my lovely ❤️

I haven’t got anything from an abandoned story, but I have some things in progress I can share 🤭 They’re all for the same fandom: Game of Thrones/Jonerys🥰 no spoilers.

One from the chapter I am yet to edit for I Am Not a Woman, I’m a God:

She took one step toward him before he grabbed and shoved her back inside. Jon’s black eyes were predatory as he crowded her against the closed door and his hand came up to cup her jaw.

“What are you-” She never had time to finish as Jon kissed her.

Hot. Bruising. Almost punishing, he slid his hand down her neck, fingers raising goosebumps down her throat as his hand settled around it and his thumb stroked her flickering pulse.

She traced her fingers up his neck, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to draw him closer, fingers lacing through his hair to deepen his starving kiss. Trying to memorise him, the scent of snow and pine that always stuck to him, his pulse thrumming wildly under her fingertips, his lips branding hers and the ale soaked taste of him.

She wanted to never forget a single detail.

Three from Blood Flows in a Spiral:

“You’re scared,” he murmured, eyes widening in sudden understanding, and she opened her mouth to deny it, but he said, “You don’t want to die, but you’re too afraid to live.”

There was a frigid triumph in her eyes, the blue of them icy and fractured. They spoke of pain, both given and received. He idly wondered if anyone had touched her with gentleness or just because they wanted to. The way she skittered away from him when she realised how close they’d gotten told him no. She wasn’t used to tenderness and calm. Chaos swirled in her soul, and he aimed to harmonise it.

“You’re like a wildflower after a wildfire. You could bloom in a sea of ash, if you just believed.”

And one very silly one I hope to post very soon to add another season to Wool to Brave the Seasons. It’s subject to change as I’m not happy with it all 😅

“Ha-fucking-ha,” Viserys deadpanned, going on in a sly tone, “Every time. You really need to brush up on your banter skills, sweet sister.”

“Perhaps if you were more polite in greeting us, we’d be more likely to react in kind. And for the last time—don’t call me that!”

“I think not. You go the loveliest shade of puce when I call you that. I find it pleasing,” Viserys sniffed as his gaze, paler than his sisters but still striking, landed on Jon at last.

“I dread to think what my sister has told you, but I promise, only half the lies she tells about me are true,” Viserys’ eyes trailed from Jon’s head down to his feet and back again, “You’re—shorter than her last couple of strays,” he observed in a tone full of snark.

“Not where it counts. And don’t worry, you’re just as dramatic as she said you’d be.”

Viserys arched a brow as he pushed off from the sleek black car and approached Jon, staying out of arm’s reach as Jon heard Dany sigh. The silver-haired man was stone faced until the mask cracked and a slight smirk alighted on his thin mouth.

“I think we’ll get along just fine,” Viserys said after a protracted silence.

Dany pushed her way past them and tossed over her shoulder, “If you two are done, I’d like to get to the beach now.”

#thanks for the ask!#my writing #smutty #snippets #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #daenerys targaryen #jonerys #jon x dany #writing smut

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mediocre-shark-tales · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 4 (Timeline slightly shifted for the storyline)

Masterlist

I tore through the woods, my heartbeat pounding in sync with the rhythm of my feet. The tension from the pack was overwhelming, flooding my senses with their growing frustration. I could feel their stress spike with every passing minute, but no one would tell me what was going on. Seriously? They knew me well enough by now. If something was wrong, my instincts would kick in, driving me to find the source of the problem—and end it.

I was certain it had to do with Bella—everything always came back to her. Don’t get me wrong, I love the girl, but damn, trouble follows her like a shadow. Then again, I guess that’s to be expected when your soulmate is a cold one, whether she realizes it or not.

Suddenly, I caught a whiff of something sickly sweet in the air. A cold one. Alone, no coven. And then, Bella’s scent hit me.

I veered sharply, sprinting toward them. The scents grew stronger with every step, leading me straight to a clearing. Bursting through the trees, I slowed to a halt, staying just out of sight. My heart dropped when I saw an unfamiliar cold one looming over Bella, teeth bared, ready to bite. Instinct took over—I let out a deep, snarling growl that echoed like a warning.

Bella turned, her eyes locking onto mine. Recognition flickered in her gaze—she’d seen me in wolf form before, but only a small glimpse when I chased Paul and Jake into the forest after she slapped paul. The vampire’s low whisper reached my ears as he backed away.

“No way in hell,” he muttered, just as I stepped in front of Bella, growling, my eyes never leaving his crimson ones. I stood tall, daring him to make a move. In the distance, the pack’s howls echoed through the trees—they had caught his scent, too, and they were closing in fast.

The moment he turned to flee, I launched after him. He darted through the forest, using every tree and branch as an obstacle to shake me, but I was faster. I lunged, catching his ankle and slamming him into the ground. He scrambled to his feet, ready for a fight.

He managed to land a few blows, but I shook them off before charging him full force, crashing his body into a nearby boulder. The impact stunned him, giving me just enough time. With a savage bite, I tore his head from his body.

The pack arrived just as I delivered the final blow. Sam shifted back, running to a nearby tree where he’d stashed clothes. Pulling a lighter from his pocket, he quickly set the vampire’s remains ablaze. We all stood in silence, watching as the flames consumed him, turning him to nothing but ceramic-like ash.

Soon enough, the whole pack had shifted back to human form, now clothed and gathered around the smoldering ashes—everyone except me. I stayed in wolf form, partly because I didn’t have clothes stashed nearby, but mostly because I needed to check on Bella. I needed answers.

If the pack wasn’t going to tell me what was going on, I’d get the truth from the source herself.

I started to trot away, but Paul quickly caught up, nearly jogging to keep pace with me. "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice tight with curiosity.

I opened the mindlink to him. Off to check on Bella.

He sighed, almost resigned. "Alright, I know I can't talk you out of that. But when you're done..." He hesitated for a moment, looking a little nervous as he scratched the back of his head. "Would you maybe want to go on another date?"

I stopped in my tracks, turning my head sharply to look at him. His goofy smile gave away his nerves, but I could see the hope in his eyes.

I stepped closer, pressing my head against his side in a gentle, affectionate nudge. ‘Yes, Paul. Of course, I’d love to.’

His hand slid through my fur in a loving gesture before I nodded and turned, racing off toward Bella’s house.

When I arrived at Bella's house, I paused, sniffing the air to gauge who was inside. Bella’s scent was there, along with Edward’s. I focused my thoughts, pushing them outward, hoping to catch Edward’s attention. His ability to read minds never worked on me when I blocked him out, much like I did with the pack. It had taken days of practice, but now it was second nature. Opening my mind was more of a struggle than shutting it off.

I heard movement inside before Bella and Edward stepped out to meet me. Bella’s eyes met mine, a glint of recognition sparking in her expression.

“Is that you, Y/N?” she asked. I nodded, relieved that she recognized me. I turned my gaze to Edward, pushing my question toward him. ‘What’s going on?’ “The pack hasn’t told you yet?” Edward asked, tilting his head slightly. I shook mine in response.

“What?” Bella looked between us, confusion clouding her features. “The pack hasn’t told her about Victoria,” Edward explained, his voice calm yet serious.

Bella’s eyes widened in shock, clearly as confused as I felt. Edward sighed and turned back to me. “I’m not sure why the pack hasn’t mentioned it, but I think it’s important that you know. You could be a valuable ally to us.”

He paused, then added, “Before I continue, I wanted to thank you—for trying to save Bella before and again today. You may not know this, but even before you were pulled into this supernatural world, my family and I had grown quite fond of you. Even though you… don’t exactly smell great to us anymore, you're still one of our most trusted allies. How you treated Alice that day sealed it for us.”

I gave a small wolfish grin and nodded. ‘You’re all important to Bella, and she’s important to me. Protecting her means protecting you, too. Legends or not, I trust you all with her safety.’

Edward translated my thoughts to Bella, who smiled softly. Then he turned back to me, his expression growing serious again.

“With that said, the problem we’re facing is Victoria. She’s a red-haired vampire, and last year, when Bella was attacked, we killed her mate. Now she’s out for revenge. She’s been stalking Bella for a while, but lately, she’s been quiet. We believe she’s planning something, and this time, she may have help.”

As Edward finished, I took a moment to absorb the weight of his words. A looming threat, and this time, it wasn’t just Bella who would be in danger. It was all of us.

‘Thank you for telling me. If anything changes, let me know right away. No one’s getting to Bella on my watch.’ Edward nodded in appreciation, offering a quiet, “Thank you.”

Before I could leave, Bella spoke up. “While you're here, Y/N, I wanted to invite you to my graduation party. I know you might have your own plans, but if you’re free, I’d love for you to join.”

I nodded, turning to Edward to translate for me. “She says she’s not planning her own party, so she’d love to attend yours,” Edward relayed with a small smile. Bella beamed. “Great! I’ll make sure you get a physical invite soon.”

With that settled, I gave my goodbyes, nodding to them both before heading back through the trees toward home.

After just a few minutes, I transformed back into my human form, quickly dressing and making my way to the open area where my house stood. As I approached the porch, I spotted Paul sitting there, his face lighting up into a wide smile when he saw me. I couldn’t help but return his grin as I jogged up to him. “Let me just grab some shoes and check on my dad, then we can take my truck if you’d like?”

With a nod, he replied, “I get to drive, then.” I giggled and tossed him my keys from inside the door. “As always, Paul.” As he turned to start the truck, I headed inside to find my shoes.

Passing through the living room, I noticed Sue lounging on the couch, absorbed in one of her cheesy rom-coms. The delicious aroma of whatever she was cooking or baking wafted through the air, a comforting reminder of the dinner she was preparing for my father and herself. I walked up the ramp, which covered an old set of short stairs leading to the hallway at the back of the house.

Once in my room, I quickly found my sneakers and some socks. I slipped them on and glanced in the mirror to fix my hair. It had been cut short after shifting, but it still tangled and got messy. I brushed it out before heading off to find my father in his office.

As I entered my father's office, the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the musty aroma of old books, wrapping me in a sense of comfort. He was hunched over his desk, deep in thought, scribbling notes for his latest project. The sight of him instantly warmed my heart. "Hey, Dad," I called softly, leaning against the doorframe.

He looked up, his face breaking into a smile that reached his eyes. "There’s my favorite girl! How was your run? Did you catch any squirrels?" he teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

I rolled my eyes, stepping into the room. "Very funny. You know I’m more graceful than that," I replied, crossing my arms with a mock pout. "But, um, I need to talk to you about something important."

His playful demeanor shifted, curiosity replacing it. "What’s on your mind, sweetheart?"

Taking a deep breath, I hesitated, my stomach knotting with anxiety. "I just found out about a rogue vampire lurking nearby. It seems to be causing trouble, and I… I don't want to take any chances." I locked my gaze on him, urgency creeping into my voice. "Dad, with everything you do as the tribe historian—protecting our legends and keeping track of our history—you’re important to us. I need you to stay safe."

His expression changed, concern etching itself into his features. "A rogue vampire? Why didn’t I hear about this sooner? Do you know who it is?"

"I don’t know yet, but the pack is on high alert," I replied, trying to steady my voice. "That’s why I’m asking you to stay inside more often. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, especially when you’re the one safeguarding our stories and our future."

He studied me for a moment, his eyes softening as he took in my worry. "I appreciate you looking out for me, and I understand your concern. But you know I can’t ignore the responsibility of preserving our history, especially with new threats emerging."

"I get that, but please promise me you’ll be careful," I insisted, my heart racing. “I need you here, Dad. You’re not just a historian; you’re my father. We’re in this together, and I want you safe.”

He sighed, a small smile breaking through the seriousness. "You’re right, my little wolf. I’ll be more cautious. For you."

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, relief washing over me. "Thank you, Dad. That’s all I ask. I want us both to be here for whatever comes next."

"Always," he said, reaching out to pull me into a warm hug. "Now, how about we grab some dinner? I think Sue made enough to feed an army."

“Wish I could but Paul and I are going on a last second date night!" I said excitedly. My father smiled and bid me a goodbye as I left the house.

Here’s a revised version of the scene to improve flow and clarity:

Out front, I hurried over and hopped into the truck. Paul grumbled, realizing too late that he'd missed the chance to open the door for me. I couldn’t help but smile, leaning over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "So, what do you have planned for tonight?" I asked, as he quickly shifted the truck into reverse, backing up before spinning it around to head out.

We drove in comfortable silence until we reached the main road, the familiar trees of Forks passing by in a blur. Finally, Paul spoke up, his voice thoughtful. "I was thinking we could grab some dinner, maybe pick up a few things for a craft you like, and then head to the cliff by the beach. We could eat, relax, and work on something together."

A smile tugged at my lips. The memory of last week surfaced in my mind, when we had spent the afternoon cuddled up in my room. Paul had spotted my desk, cluttered with the remnants of old crafts—bracelets, paintings, and half-finished projects. It was a hobby I hadn’t indulged in for a while, a simple joy I kept to myself, creating little things for others or just for fun. He had been so curious, asking me about each piece, and we’d ended up talking about them all for hours.

The thought of him remembering that moment now filled me with warmth. "That sounds perfect," I said softly, glancing over at him. Paul always had a way of making things special, of knowing exactly what would bring me peace.

It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the crafting store in town. Before I even had a chance to unbuckle, Paul was already shutting off the truck and rushing to my side. I couldn’t help but laugh as he hurried to open the door for me, offering his hand to help me out. "Such a gentleman," I teased, squeezing his hand as he closed the door and locked the truck.

Grinning, I led him inside, my fingers intertwined with his. As soon as we stepped through the door, the soft, familiar scent of craft supplies enveloped me—the earthy smell of wooden beads, the subtle tang of leather strips, and the faint sweetness of paints and glue. I looked around, taking it all in. The colors, textures, and materials surrounded us, sparking memories of afternoons spent lost in creativity.

With every breath, I could feel a sense of ease and comfort washing over me, the stress and tension from the day melting away. This was my sanctuary, and having Paul here with me made it even better.

We spent the next few minutes browsing the aisles, picking out supplies to make matching bracelets. I also grabbed a few extra things for bracelets I wanted to make for some friends. As we headed to the register, I made sure to separate my extra items from the supplies we picked out for our date. But just as I started to do that, Paul stopped me, gently pushing everything back together.

"Hey, I’m paying for my stuff too, Lahote," I said, narrowing my eyes playfully.

Paul just smirked, stepping in front of me and blocking the register with his broad frame. "Yeah, no," he muttered, ignoring my protests as he quickly paid for everything before I had a chance to stop him.

I stared at him, surprised, as he turned around, holding the bag full of supplies with a smug grin. I let out a dramatic sigh, rolling my eyes as I reached to grab the bag, but he pulled it away at the last second.

“Nope," he said, shaking his head with a teasing smile. "If I can’t treat you to fancy dinners like I want, the least you can do is let me pay for everything and carry your things."

I shook my head, exasperated but smiling. “You are not paying for everything, Paul. I’m covering dinner next, and that’s final.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. "You can try," he said with a smirk, "but I won’t let you. No matter what."

Once again, Paul hurried to open the door for me, helping me in before shutting it with a playful smirk. He then opened the back door to place our craft supplies behind me before hopping into the driver’s seat and heading to a cozy burger joint. Of course, he wouldn’t let me pay for the meal, no matter how hard I tried.

Finally, we arrived at the cliff. Paul backed the truck up so we could sit on the bed while crafting, eating, and enjoying the sunset. Before Paul could make it to my side, I jumped out of the truck and made a quick grab for the bags. "Hey!" Paul called, his voice laced with surprise as he sped over, trying to catch up.

I giggled, shutting the door behind me and taking off in a playful sprint, the bags in my hands. "Too slow!" I teased, glancing back to see him grinning as he chased after me, the sunset painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

It didn’t take long for him to catch up, his strong arms wrapping around me as he lifted me off my feet effortlessly, laughing. I squealed, my feet kicking in the air as I tried to wriggle free.

“Gotcha!” he teased, his laughter mixing with mine as he spun me around for a moment before setting me back down, still holding me close.

I pouted playfully. “Not fair! You have way too much of an advantage.”

Paul grinned, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “What can I say? I’m a man on a mission." He gently grabbed the bags from my hands. "Now, let’s get to our crafts before the sun sets."

I nodded, and we walked back to the truck, Paul quickly taking the bags from me again with a smirk. We sat down on the tailgate, the soft breeze carrying the scent of the ocean up from the cliffs. Paul began to set up our makeshift picnic, laying out the burgers and fries, while I organized the supplies for our matching bracelets.

The simplicity of the moment felt perfect—the calm of the ocean, the warmth of the setting sun, and the easy silence between us as we got everything ready. I glanced over at Paul, who was focused on arranging our meal, and a smile tugged at my lips.

"You're really going all out for this date, huh?" I teased, threading a leather strip through one of the beads.

He looked up, his eyes twinkling. "Only the best for you."

We started eating, the warm burgers and crispy fries the perfect complement to the cool breeze coming off the ocean. The sky was painted with a breathtaking array of colors—fiery oranges blending into soft pinks and purples, the sun slowly sinking behind the horizon. We sat quietly for a while, enjoying the view and the peacefulness of the moment.

“This is perfect,” I murmured between bites, glancing over at Paul. He nodded in agreement, his mouth full of fries, giving me a lopsided grin.

Once we finished eating, I pulled the craft supplies toward us, sorting through the leather strips and beads. "Ready to get started?" I asked, pulling out two small wolf charms—one for each of our bracelets.

Paul raised an eyebrow, already looking a bit unsure. "I dunno, I’m not exactly a bracelet-making expert," he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

I laughed, shaking my head. "It’s not that hard. I’ll walk you through it." I handed him a strip of leather and a few beads, trying not to laugh at the overly serious expression he was wearing. "First, you thread the beads onto the leather like this," I said, demonstrating with my own bracelet.

He copied me, but it quickly became clear that Paul’s hands weren’t made for delicate work. His fingers fumbled as he tried to thread a bead onto the strip, and after a few failed attempts, he dropped one of the beads into his lap with a frustrated groan.

I couldn’t help but giggle. "You're supposed to be a tough guy, and you're losing to a bead?"

He shot me a mock glare, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. "Hey, these things are tiny! My hands weren’t built for this kind of precision."

"Here, let me help." I slid closer, taking his hand in mine and guiding the leather strip through the bead. "See? Easy. You just have to be patient."

He watched me carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Okay, okay, I think I got it." He tried again, this time with a little more success. "Maybe," he added, half-laughing.

As we worked, the wolf charms jingled softly in our hands, adding a little extra significance to the bracelets. Despite Paul’s clumsy attempts, he was putting his heart into it, and that made it even more special. I glanced over at him as he struggled to tie the final knot.

"How’s it coming?" I asked, smiling.

"Uh... it’s... definitely a bracelet," he said, holding up his finished piece, which was slightly lopsided and uneven, but unmistakably heartfelt.

I burst out laughing. "It's perfect," I said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Just like you."

Paul grinned, a little sheepish, and we settled back to watch the last of the sunset, our matching wolf bracelets now tied securely on our wrists.

#x reader #alpha beta omega #the cullens #the twilight saga #twilight #edward cullen #paul lahote #twilight saga #jacob black

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