#DAI Fanfiction

[sapphirebunnyart]

New "cover" for my fanfic, The Lost Halla!

I wanted to show off my improvement over the year and the plot progression of the story.

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Read it here!

[spainkitty]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Final Chapter of Part One!

Lieutenant Lanil does her job! Someone's teasing is a little ~too much~ 😉 And past traumas are discussed!

Because of summer fun and country-displacement (I'm moving back to USA), I'm on hiatus until July 17th, but then I'll be back and posting regularly, and completely beta'ed! Shout out @sillyliterature for being great and hard-working despite my mammoth chapters nearly making her sweat 🤣 🥰

[somethingblu3]

Little Moments Of Doubt

Repost Read on AO3 here.

18+ minors dni.

Fandom: Dragon Age, Dragon Age Inquisition.

Summary:

Cullen has a moment of doubt about Kendra's pregnancy. cheesiness abound.

TW: Pregnancy, Pregnancy Doubt, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnancy Regret, Implied/Referenced Abortion/ Pregnant Inquisitor, Implied Breeding Kink, Mentions of no Condom Sex, Reiljious Guilt/Trauma,

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x Original Female Character (Kendra Lavellan)

Word Count: 943

Divider Credit: cherienymphe.

“This was a mistake,” Cullen said firmly “I’m sorry”

“Cullen” Kendra stressed.

He was having one of those moods again. Those moods where everything was wrong and it was all his fault yet Kendra knew it was the furthest from the truth.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have indulged in my fantasies I-” He stuttered.

Kendra’s heart ached. Cullen had repressed his feelings from the moment she knew him. It took him almost two years to finally accept his feelings for her. And when he finally did a sense of relief washed over them. Their friends, especially Dorian, had known it for years, yet Cullen’s fear held him back like it did now. It held him back in the bedroom too Kendra was certain that during their cuddle sessions after sex, he was praying to Andraste begging her to forgive him of his sins. It was all quite sad really. Their session last month went further than they typically went but Kendra didn’t mind - she wanted it. Creators she craved all of him inside of her burying deep inside her sweet cunt. During Dirty talk Cullen let slip that he wanted her to feel his flesh. He wanted her to feel his seed growing inside of her until she was ready to burst with child and Kendra happily indulged.

When he got up this morning for his run her handprints and bitemarks were still fresh she couldn’t help but smile at her handywork she had never experienced that level of lovemaking it was intense yet also just as passionate at the same time. She knew that it would be a while until she experienced that again him inside of her with no restrictions no condoms just flesh on flesh as The Creators had intended. He was hard at first Kendra was almost worried that he wasn’t going to fit in despite being average-sized but in the end, they finally got there.. She knew that the next time he would be on a work trip when she would be all alone stuck in their apartment that would be her masturbation material. She smirked as her eyes caught a glimpse of the still cum-stained Dildo Cullen had used on her last night. Kendra was still in the early stages of her pregnancy yet they had already needed to be more creative with positions.

Plus Cullen wouldn’t stop treating her like a delicate little flower and it was frustrating her to no end. Of course, it was nice that he cared but at the same time, she wasn’t a doll she wasn’t going to break under his touch no matter how much he had seemed to believe that. She was always aware that through each session she could have possibly ended up pregnant there was always a chance even with birth control.

While the thought of pregnancy scared her to death she also knew that Cullen would be a great father no matter what even if he didn’t quite believe it himself that was what gave her a sense of peace at night. Kendra lowered her head. She didn’t want to press any longer she knew that if she gave the option of terminating the pregnancy Cullen would say yes but then in the morning he would regret it in a heartbeat.

“Cullen…Go to sleep you’ll feel better about this in the morning” She tried to calm him.

“But what if I don’t? What if I wake up and I still feel the same way about this?” He paused and waved his hand down at her pregnant belly which wasn’t even showing yet but she couldn’t even fit into her favorite pair of jeans.

“We’re not ready to be parents Ken. We’re drowning in debt. And what if we mess up? Mess up like my Dad did. I would never forgive myself and you know that” He wailed

Kendra pulled Cullen closer even as he wallowed her fingers intertwined in his blond locks.

“Look we’ll get through this,” She said softly as she kissed his forehead gently.

“How are you so optimistic about this?” Cullen asked as he looked up at her.

Amazement sparkled in his eyes.

“You're the one who’ll actually have to give birth” He reminded her.

Kendra smiled “I’m optimistic because I know whatever The Creators have planned for us we can face it we always have. I’m lucky remember?” She asked as he tugged at her necklace with her thumb twirling around Cullen’s lucky gold coin the one that he had given to her at the lake.

“Maker your such a cheeseball” Cullen complained as he shook his head.

"There's nothing wrong about being cheesy every now and then" Kendra teased as she witnessed a soft smile grow over his lips.

“Speaking of Chese do we still have any of that Brie left Alistair bought us from Val Royeaux?” Kendra asked.

Cheese had been her first and strongest craving so far and she blamed Alistair almost entirely.

Cullen’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red “About that-”

“Cullen” Kendra whined as she swatted him gently.

Cullen got up from the bed and kissed her right cheek pulling back with a smile.

“Don’t worry dear why don’t I go to the corner shop and get you some more while I clear this head of mine?” He asked

“Alright then. I love you” She sighed as she slithered back under the warm covers.

“I love you too. The both of you my tiny little cheeseballs” Cullen murmured as he placed his hand on her stomach ever so gently.

Fine. Kendra reminded herself as her breathing slowed and sleep overtook her. They would be fine.

[enasallavellan]

Enasal Lavellan Reboot

So as I've mentioned, I'm doing some major editing of the still-running longfic about Enasal Lavellan. You can check it out on my ao3 link here, or just wait until Wednesday where each newly edited chapter will appear once a week on my blog.

And since I still for the life of me can't think of a title for this fic, it'll be labeled either Enasal Reboot or something of the like, it depends on how the formatting looks on mobile and desktop both.

I you enjoy it, drop me a like, comment, or the esteemed reblog! And feel free to message me with questions, comments, or prompts!

Love ya'll,

Lacy

[sapphireangelbunny]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford Characters: Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford, Cassandra Pentaghast, Leliana (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Solas (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: i'll add tags as the story goes Summary:

Kayla never felt at home anywhere, even among her loving dalish clan. Her er keeper sends her to investigate the Conclave. A gathering of mages and templars in a last test for peace. Kayla is thrown into the mess when the Temple of Sacred Ashes explodes, killing everyone inside but her.

[ephemeronidwrites]

Shout out to @the-cryptographer, because they asked for one of the prompts in my OC tag game, and while I find the prompt they chose to be extremely tasty and I am going to spend at least the next week alternately going feral with excitement and getting insufferably nitpicky about getting some irrelevant detail absolutely perfect... I also don't want to leave them completely hanging for as long as I am going to take to write what they actually asked for.

So in the meantime, here's one of the prompts I've already been working on from that list... completely unprompted.

Does that defeat the purpose of a prompt exercise? Mmmm probably. Do I care?

4: A letter from your OC to their love interest

A letter intercepted from an anonymous courier met during the second week of Haring, 9:40 Dragon, in a border town between Orlais and Nevarra.

Darling,

I thought I was going to pass the time on this journey writing down every filthy thing I wanted to do to you. And then touching myself about it. Then writing down everything I did to myself, then thinking about you doing the same things to me and touching myself about it all over again. Then sending you everything I wrote down in a big fat bundle.

If I work at it hard enough, I might even manage to get the pages so sticky I won’t need wax to seal them up.

Especially since the “Inquisition” is everywhere these days, so I put the chance of one of their agents intercepting this letter at about 4 to 6? Don’t get me wrong, this letter is meant strictly for your lovely eyes only, but I admit I do also get a kick at the thought of this letter making its way into the hands of some “innocent” Chantry Sister. Maybe I can scorch out her eyes with the sinful acts depicted therein. Or even better, spice up her dreams so hard that she’ll have to pray until her knees are skinned raw to make up for it.

But now I must do a bit of confessing of my own, and say that since we’ve been apart, I simply haven’t been interested in any of that. Both my daydreams and night fantasies of you have been scandalously chaste, things like snuggling in the same bedroll at night, or waking to your sleeping face, maybe getting to poke your nose before you wake up.

Are you surprised? I am, but somehow I think you wouldn't be.

Our old friend would surely be offended by this sort of… “base sentimentality”, I think she used to call it? She’d probably keelhaul us first, before moving onto the penance. I imagine ropes being involved. Or hot wax. I don’t know. When it came to the finer points of what counts for proper debauchery, I was never really the authority in our little group anyway.

But since she isn’t here… I’ll indulge this sappy nonsense all I like. After all, less time spent on fingernail grooming is more time left to fantasize, right?

Besides, something tells me it’s this sort of thing that the Chantry would take greater offense to. The idea that mages might actually be people, with feelings. People-feelings, the sorts of feelings that don’t involve cackling and people going off the rails and firestorms raging everywhere.

After all, you know better than anyone else how afraid I was that I was that your our little stunt at the Kirkwall chantry building might have made that particular misconception worse. So you might feel vindicated to know that, after all these last few years, all I’ve learned from being reluctantly dragged all over Thedas is that… I might have been giving you far, far much too much credit on that count.

And it’s not as if people need encouragement or teaching to know how to fear, or hate, or blindly follow. Funny how most people would sooner part with a literal arm or a leg—or march off to war, which is functionally pretty much the same thing—than they’d let go of an idea that’s outlived its usefulness. It’s mildly depressing, but what can a mage do, other than go on fighting the good fight?

Or I guess it’s pretty presumptuous to call any part of it “good”. There’s been nothing “good” or “pretty” about… a lot of the stuff we’ve lived through, hasn’t there Shit there I go again I can’t sleep or eat without you there when I stretch out my hand or when I turn my head to look at you, and I’m terrified I’ll never NO NO that’s no good F why am I like this

Maybe I’ll write instead that I want to hold you close and sniff your hair! It’s not a lie, and I’m sure someone out there can find a way to twist that into something perverse and immoral? I believe in them! I believe that creativity isn’t dead in Thedas!

Either way, since I’m not there to do it for you, kiss yourself for me, with or without any filthy thoughts in your head. (And make sure to eat something at least twice a day, be nice to Justice, Justice go easy on him… basically pretend I’m actually there to nag you so you won’t forget to do all these things. Promise me you will do that.)

Sealed with a kiss of my own (since I know you won’t listen to me, darling, you never do),

Your little mistake.

In addition to the letter, the envelope contained three gold coins and also had attached a missive—written in the same hand—ostensibly meant for the courier's eyes:

Your life and freedom are more important than this letter. If you fall into a sticky spot, do not hesitate to put your own security first. The letter is important, but disposable. I repeat, do not allow yourself to be captured.

Reconnaissance efforts to identify the courier or find any other information about their objective or destination proved fruitless. The money was added to the appropriations funds for Inquisition soldier requisitions.

[shining-just-4-u]

u ever read a fanfic so good that you want. fanfic of the fanfic

[lunasblunt]

70s logan moodboard

[ficwip]

[justaleafinthewind]

If any one of my posts is to break containment, make it this one.

Before January 2025, download your favorite fics, especially those with smut or queer content.

If Project 2025 goes into effect (which it very likely will now that we have three red branches of government in the US), they may attempt to restrict the use/sharing of media on sites like ao3.

This particularly applies to fics with smut or any type of queer content, because the official Project 2025 document states, "Pornography, manifested today in the omnipresent propagation of transgender ideology and sexualization of children, for instance... has no claim to First Amendment protection... Pornography should be outlawed."

Now, I don't expect ao3 to disappear or go anywhere without a fight, but it's best to be on the safe side these days.

To download your favorite fics:

Go to archiveofourown.org and open the fic you want to download.

At the top right corner, to the right of the 'subscribe' button, is a button that says 'download'. Click it.

A drop-down menu will give you the option to choose the format of your download. Choose your preferred format (.epub and .pdf are my personal favorites -- .epub lets you open a fic in the apple books app and .pdf is compatible with like every device and program out there).

When you click the button for your preferred format, a pop-up window appears confirming your choices. The title of the document will default to the title of the fic, so be aware of that and consider changing conspicuous titles to something ignorable, especially if you share the computer.

You're done! Now do this with all your favorite fics!

Stay safe out there, your favorite characters are rooting for you <3

[silverskyeline]

'bad idea, right?' 18+ dofp!logan x f!reader

summary: your father hired him to protect you, not to fuck you. but logan never really liked playing by the rules. (1.7k) tags: set in the 70s, logan goes down on reader, fingering, squirting, lots of dirty talk, messy, overstimulation if you squint, logan calls the reader 'princess, babygirl' etc, for the 'timetravel' prompt for logan promptober.

"that's it, there we go. . ." logan hums, his voice muffled as he eagerly laps at you with his large tongue, "daddy never let you have any fun, babygirl?"

he grins, ". . . but, daddy ain't here right now though, is he?"

you know this is a bad idea, know you shouldn't be doing this. your father's vengeance upon the stranger between your thighs would be so swift and cruel, but you find yourself unable to care.

his tongue expertly drifts through your wet folds as he groans, sending reverberations right to your core. those large, calloused paws of his grip at your thighs, his thick digits pressing into your soft flesh deeply. he's messy, the best kind of messy, lapping at you like an animal, like a man deprived.

"taste so fuckin' good," he grumbles against your pussy, deep hazel eyes finally opening to look up at you. they're glazed, and so is he, his chin dripping with your slick. but he's not done with you yet, "look how fuckin' wet you are already, you're literally dripping. . ."

your cheeks flush at his almost mocking tone, fingers threading through his hair as if to encourage him. you're not sure how you got here, except you are. the moment he walked through that door, sent by your father to protect you, you felt an ache build between your legs.

you could tell he sensed it too, the way his words and sentences were crafted almost expertly to have you wet and wanting all within twenty minutes of first laying eyes on him. no other guard has ever had you moaning like this, soaked like this, splayed out on your back like this.

but you're pulled from your thoughts when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently. your head falls back, moans spilling out into the apartment your father had rented as the man your father had rented devours you.

"such pretty sounds," logan growls against you, tongue flicking before pressing flat against you, "you're gonna wake the neighbours. c'mon, let 'em hear what i'm doin' to you."

your head is spinning, his words causing heat to pool low in your belly. he nuzzles against you, nose brushing against your swollen clit before he dives back down to your entrance, tongue dipping back inside to fuck you. it's almost too much, the way he makes light work of you as if it's so easy, as if he knows your body better than you know it, without even knowing more than just your name.

"that's it," he coos, grinning between your thighs as he kisses his way back up to your swollen bud once more, "moan for me, wanna hear you scream. i told you, want them to hear how good i'm fuckin' you." that's when you feel them, his thick fingers circling against your hole, teasing you, almost warning you.

but it's not a warning, it's a promise. one that you want - no, fuck that, one that you need. you roll your hips a little in response, moaning and whimpering beneath him, pleading without words.

logan smirks, he knows what you need, of course he knows. he saw the way you eyed his hands, the way you watched him flex them subconsciously - he knew you wanted them buried inside of your begging cunt as soon as he entered the apartment, could smell your want, your hunger.

he was paid to protect you, after all, and how better to protect you than to keep you fucked out in his hands at all times?

just one, at first. one finger slides inside, testing you. it's tight, really tight, and wet, a soft slick sound filling the air as his finger slides inside of you. "oh, been a good girl have you?" logan teases, but it's not like he cares how many people you've been with before him. he's the only one who's ever going to matter, anyway.

then another, you're gasping and moaning at the feeling of him filling you. his fingers are pretty big, much bigger than your own. his tongue dances across your clit, urging you to relax as he stretches you, and you do. he feels you settling, a groan rumbling from his throat as he eases into you.

but when a third finger enters on the next thrust, you're gripping the sheets and calling his name. it's thick, his three fingers filling you almost completely. you wonder how big he actually is and how he compares to his fingers, but your thoughts dissipate as he begins pumping them in and out of you steadily.

"that's it, there we go. . ." logan hums, his voice muffled as he eagerly laps at you with his large tongue, "daddy never let you have any fun, babygirl?"

he grins, ". . . but, daddy ain't here right now though, is he?"

your breath catches in your throat, looking down at him through hooded lids as he fucks his fingers into you faster. his eyes are locked on yours, lips and tongue lavishing your clit with the attention he knows it deserves.

"never had a man like me before, have ya?" logan mumbles, mouth half full with you, "never had a man to really show you how it's done."

you'd answer if you could, but your mind feels like liquid, unable to form or grip any solid coherent thought other than you don't want this to stop, don't want it to ever stop. instead, you tug at his hair, moaning his name over and over like a prayer. his name tastes sweet on your lips, a name you know you'll be calling out in a lust-filled haze on nights when you're particularly lonely. nights where you want, crave the touch from that stranger who nestled between your thighs and lapped like you were a fresh spring and he, a desperate parched man.

he feels you flutter around his fingers and he smirks against your clit. the sweet symphony of your moans reverberating against his ears has his dick twitching in his jeans, aching for release, aching to replace his fingers.

but not now, not while you're writhing so perfectly for him, coming undone at just a few strokes. you wonder how you would handle his cock when you're already close to bursting with his fingers, but who could blame you? the way he curls and pumps and glides them in and out of your tight pussy, you'd think he already knew all of your sweet spots, knew you inside out, without knowing you at all.

logan is just a stranger, but you know the memory of him will be burned between your thighs, making you throb, forever.

"gonna cum, aren't you?" he growls against you, picking up the pace. his fingers curl just slightly, enough to brush against your spongey g-spot on the next thrust, just enough for you to tense up and gasp.

you can't deny it either, there's a tidal wave coming that threatens to destroy you. it's rising slowly. you can't stop it. and it's crafted by him, by the man between your thighs. but you don't want to stop it, you just worry about who you'll be when you resurface on the other side, gasping for air, lost at sea, changed forever.

nodding, you let a whine slip from your lips, feeling a sensation build, your breathing ragged. it's coming, you're cumming. and instead of taking it easy on you, calming the waters, logan encourages the overwhelming waves with a curl of his fingers.

that's all it takes, all it takes for you to cum harder than you've ever cum before. you feel a gush, hot liquid coating your thighs and along his face as he fucks his three fingers into you deeper, hitting that same spot in every thrust. you're screaming his name, fist clenching in his hair in an iron grip as you roll your hips against his face. he's taking it too, tongue assaulting your clit in all the right ways to increase the pitch of your desperate screams.

and he loves it, loves the way you become so messy for him, coating those fresh sheets and his skin. he's moaning too, not that you can hear it over your ecstasy, but it's there, low like a growl beneath every cry.

"good girl. . ." he groans, pumping his fingers in and out of you relentlessly as you clench around him rhythmically, feeling his cock throb in his jeans at the sensation. he just knows you'll take him so well, knows you'll sound even better when it's his fat cock you're cumming around instead of his fingers.

it's almost too much, feeling yourself come apart at the seams as he stitches you back together with those calloused fingers of his through each thrust. and just as quickly as the waves come, they calm all at once, washing over you slowly, sending goosebumps rippling across your soft, supple skin. logan slows too, licking stripes along your cunt to catch the remnants of your release.

"holy shit," he grins wolfishly, proudly as he presses a few kisses to the inside of your thigh, "don't need to introduce myself to the neighbours anymore, i guess, already know me by name."

you flush deeply, running your fingers through your hair as you release his, resting back against the bed fully. there's a witty quip on the tip of your tongue, but it melts away at the feeling of him pulling his fingers out of you.

"this. . . can't happen again," you whisper, shaking your head as your eyes fix on the ceiling above you.

but logan smirks, he knows you don't really mean that. knows you're just trying to convince yourself that you won't crave him in your core, that he won't flash in your mind when another person finds their home between your thighs.

"whatever you say, princess," he shrugs, sitting up as he wipes your delicious slick from his beard and chin.

you glance up at him, his bare chest, muscles tensing coupled with those pretty blue jeans. fuck. fuck. this wasn't happening. dad would kill him, kill you too probably.

"but," you find yourself beginning to speak, unable to stop the words from fighting their way out, "suppose it could be our secret. . . if it did."

ah, there it is. there's the admission logan knew was coming. he knew it was gonna come the second he wrapped his lips around that swollen little clit of yours. you just needed someone to fuck you right, fuck you proper, fuck you dirty like you deserve.

besides, logan never really liked playing by the rules, anyway.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

whatever you want

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, ab riding, tit fucking, semi public sex, established relationship, cumming in mouth, mentions of future and past sex, lots of talk about rafes muscles, reader is kinda described as having big (or at least decent sized) breasts, lots of banter can these bitches just shut up and fuck oh my goddddd

“again.” you call, almost sounding drunk despite being completely sober.

rafe sighs, rolling his eyes, but the side of his lip quirks up, unable to hide how much he likes your fascination.

rafe flexes again, his arms bulging and pecs tightening. you reach out, smoothing your hands over the hard muscles.

“you're so strong.” you coo, sat on rafes lap despite the hot temperature of the day, which resulted in rafe pulling his shirt off.

"you're acting like you've never seen me shirtless before.” rafe says with a chuckle.

“shh, let me appreciate you.” you shake your head. sure, you've seen him shirtless plenty of times but rafe was bulking up for summer and it caused all his muscles to be deliciously defined.

“alright, whatever.” rafe flexes again, not going to argue too much when he has your hands obsessively touching every part of his body.

your hands move down to his stomach, fingers running over his abs. “if you let me ride your abs, i’d let you do whatever you want to me.”

“you-” rafe places his hands on his hips, sitting up straighter. “you want to ride my abs?”

“yeah.” you nod, quirking your head to the side. “you know, like rub my pussy against them.”

“shit, do it right now.” rafe looks down at your short shorts, barely covering more than your underwear does.

“yes!” you squeal out, hopping up and tugging your bottoms and panties off, not caring that you’re in the backyard and anyone could theoretically come by. “lay back.” you instruct.

rafe lays on the couch, smiling up at you as you climb on top of him. “you’ll have to flex for me as im doing this.” you inform rafe, placing your pussy on his abdomen. “especially your pecs.” you poke his chest.

“you’re such a slut for my body.” rafe chuckles, hands coming to your hips, pushing you further down, feeling your wetness as your thighs spread even more open.

“i can’t help that you’re so sexy.” you shrug, hips starting to move back and forth in a slow rock, carefully building up the pace, wanting to enjoy being sat on his stomach.

you lean forward, placing your hands on his chest for stability, pressing your clit further against his muscles. rafe flexes his muscles and they harden underneath you.

“rafe!” you squeal. 

“i guess you like that, huh?” rafes hands squeeze at your hips and lift up, placing you harder back down on his stomach. “oh, you like that too.” he smiles as he bounces you again and you moan out.

“i really like that.” you hum, eyes struggling to stay open with the pleasure, but you want to keep your eyes on rafe beneath you. its rare he lets you take over like this.

you moan as you both bounce, using your knees to go up and down while rafe assists so you don’t get burnt out. 

you pull your top off, revealing the bikini top you’re wearing underneath, ready to go swimming whenever you’re done playing with rafe, needing to get in the water on this sweltering day.

“jesus, your tits are perfect.” rafe smiles as he watches your chest bouncing, sitting up to rub his face in between your pushed together breasts, the bikini top holding them tight together.

“not as perfect as yours.” you giggle, hands squeezing at his chest, palms over his nipples.

“don’t call them tits.” rafe rolls his eyes as he lays back, head against the cushion.

“well, whatever you wanna call them, i fucking love your muscles. your pecs-” you squeeze your hands again, digging into his soft flesh until rafe flexes and they harden. “your biceps-” you move your hands, and rafe flexes again, his muscles bulging. “your abs.” this time you press your pussy down, rubbing against the contours and ridges.

“you’re lucky that you offered to let me do whatever i want to you otherwise i wouldn’t have agreed to this.” rafe smirks.

“oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow. “what are you gonna do to me?” there’s truly nothing rafe could do to your body that wouldn’t bring you pleasure, you glow just under his attention alone.

“fuck your tits.” rafe smirks, eyes moving down from your face to your chest. “as soon as your done, right here for anyone to see.”

“damn, you could do anything and you don’t want to fuck my asshole or tie me up?” you laugh, expecting something more from rafe.

“you’d let me do all that whenever anyways.” rafe pushes your hips down, grinding you against him. you moan and lean forward, your hands coming back to rafes chest. 

“keep doing that.” you whimper, eyes sliding closed as your mouth drops open, moans filling the air and being carried away by the wind. 

rafe keeps moving, the veins in his forearm flexing as your wetness spreads over his abs, coating them in your slick, allowing your pussy to drag even easier.

“im-im close.” you warn, swallowing thickly.

rafe grunts and increases his hold, tightening his grip on your hips so you can’t slip loose, grinding you down as he flexes his abs, the hardness rubbing against your clit making you moan out, body falling forward as you cum hard, shaking as rafe lets up on you, hands loosening and moving to rub your back.

“fuck.” you whine, snuggling into his chest, letting your hips drop down, feeling rafes hardness pressing against your stomach.

rafe starts to move as you cry out, not ready to do anything more than close your eyes and feel his warmth against your cheek.

“come on, brat.” rafe chuckles. “i wanna fuck your tits while you’re all spaced out from your orgasm. you know i love you like this.” 

you hum a sound thats close enough to agreement that rafe flips you so you’re underneath him, laying on your back on the couch as he stands.

“you’re so gorgeous like this.” rafe says as he undoes his belt buckle, then pushing his pants and underwear down, his hard cock popping up.

“wanna taste.” you whine, eyes still droopy.

“nope.” rafe shakes his head. “we made a deal. i know you like to taste me, but im fucking your tits. take your top off.”

rafe pulls at the strings of your bikini, flinging it away to reveal your pink nipples to the sunlight.

“fine, but will you at least cum a little in my mouth?” you pout as rafe kneels on either side of you, glad that the outdoor couch is big enough for all of these activities.

“sure, baby.” rafe chuckles, just another way of showing how desperate you are for him.

rafes hands land on your tits, palms rubbing on your nipples, feeling them harden against his palms, not unlike when he was flexing his muscles for you earlier.

rafes hands move to the sides of your breasts, pushing them together. “god, you look so fuckable right now.”

“yeah? gonna fuck me later then? maybe out on the boat hm? after you’re done with my tits?”

“the boat, the bed, the counter, the shower, im gonna have you everywhere.” rafe bends down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

you smile up at him, a lazy, tired smile. rafe angles his hips down, the head of his cock pushing against the underside of your tits before slipping in between them.

“oh!” your eyebrows raise, surprised at the unusual feeling, but certainly not disliking it as he begins to move back and forth.

“shit.” rafe grunts. “fuck.”

you swat rafes hands away, pressing your tits together for him. rafe leans forward, hands landing on either side of your neck, his face contorted in pleasure directly over yours.

you look down, eyes watching the head of rafes cock appearing and disappearing between your breasts.

“this is- this is fucking good.” rafe grunts, moving faster. “im- im not gonna last very long.”

you stick your tongue out, rafes cock just long enough to hit it with the tip of his cock as he thrusts. you relish the taste, pulling your tongue back into your mouth every couple thrusts to spread the taste.

“thats it, baby.” rafe moans, one hand moving to your mouth, two fingers pulling at the side of your lip, spreading your mouth wider.

you moan out, tongue open and ready for his cum. rafe fucks forward as fast as he can, just like he does your pussy when you spread your legs wide for him.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say as he surges forward, burying his cock in your mouth as his hand wraps around his length, stroking up and down as he reaches his high, cum spurting into your mouth as you happily swallow.

rafe moans slowly die out and become quieter until hes pulling out of your mouth. “get up my legs are about to give out.” he says quickly, and you barely slide off the couch before he collapses.

you giggle and climb on top of him, pressing kisses to his cheek as his chest heaves up and down.

“im guessing you liked that.” you rub your thumb over his bottom lip.

“yeah.” rafe smiles, his eyes sliding shut.

“so, boat ride now?”

“jesus, woman give me a second.” rafe laughs, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

[spainkitty]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Part Two is finally here! (and I'm finally back in the US of A! yay? maybe?)

Summary:

At long last, the Breach will be closed and the Inquisition will finally turn their attention to the threatening shadow of the Venatori. But of course, that's not how it goes. The Venatori step out of the shadows first. The true nature of the Elder One and his power is revealed with devastating consequences.

Lanil Surana is stuck in the middle of a brand new war, and hanging onto the dregs of the previous one by the skin of her teeth. Violence, grief, in-fighting, and rejection hound her every step forward, but amongst the worst months of her life she finds true friendship, meets heroes, and discovers a purpose worth fighting the world for.

Perhaps there might be room for romance, if Lanil ever stopped running from it.

Updates every other Wednesday. Fully beta'd.

There's death and violence, loss and grief. But there's also too much romance and really wholesome, ride-or-die friendships! There's acespec MCs, a love "triangle" (it's a love-V), and Polycules~ Camoes and way too many fanservicing namedrops. It's canon compliant, but also, I do what I want whenever I want 😅 More people need to meet my Feral Mabari Mage, Lanil Surana, and love her as much as I do! 🥰

[lilllithdraagon]

Fanfiction Fridays

okay. so technically... it's saturday... apologies.

The chapter for this week is live now.

[enasallavellan]

Enasal Lavellan Reboot - Ch. 4

Enasal wakes up swinging, but Varric and Solas are able to calm her down enough to get her ready for the next step - meeting her newfound followers.

If you like what I've written, consider reblogging or commenting - I love to hear from ya'll!

Enasal was half asleep when she started to come to. Her most recent memories flew past: pain and chains, men fighting and dying, rifts and demons. When a hand shook her by the shoulder, all she could think about were the rough hands that had shackled and shoved her. She tried to cover her ears to protect the long tips from a knife, jerking side to side and kicking her legs at the looming soldiers above her. One was speaking, but her addled mind struggled to translate it in her head.

"Take it easy, kid - ow! Shit-"

Perfect! She was managing to cause some damage. 

But the voice continued to try to still her flailing arms, repeating, "Easy…come on, relax, relax!"

Whoever it was managed to grab one of arms and she let out a scream that somehow made no noise.

But then a different voice. This one softer and more measured, steady. The words seemed almost familiar, but  there were so many words weren't quite right it might as well have been another language. The soft voice paused before saying something else - a bit more familiar this time. 

Finally the words he spoke made sense.

“Dar'eth enas.  Eth’enas, da’len, eth’enas.”

She started to relax. An elf was here, one that knew how to speak Dalish. There was no way one so knowledgeable in her own language could be out to hurt her. Had she been rescued?

“On, on -eth’enas - syla’enas.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, gulping air as fast as she could.

“Felas, da’len, felas’syla’enas.”

She found herself nodding, slowing her breaths, and looking around.

It wasn't a cell or a dungeon. No screams of torment or shouted commands. Just a little room made of wood and stone, with a crackling fireplace and a small table. She pushed herself up on her elbows, finally recognizing the two faces looking down at her.

"Varric?" She asked, squinting, "Solas?"

"There she is!" Varric laughed, collapsing into a chair by the bed and dusting his hands off, "What did you say to her? Worked like a charm."

Solas examined her hand, carefully scrutinizing it, "Her dialect is a bit odd - I've never heard  it before." He shrugged a bit, "Simple phrases are the easiest."

"Yeah, but what did you say?"

Solas was too intent on Enasal to answer, "The mark seems stable, for now. Can you stand?"

"I think?" Her body ached, but she was able to grit her teeth and push herself into a sitting position.

"Seeker Cassandra asked that we bring you to the chantry when you woke." He stood, and Enasal was once again struck by his height. Never had she seen an elf so tall, "It's good you're feeling calmer."

Varric took his coat off the chair and started putting it all, chuckling, "By 'feeling calmer,' he means you finally got your sense back. Granted, you still tried to fight us, but-"

"I tried - Ir abelas!" She apologized quickly.

He waved her away, "Don't worry, you only got a couple of punches in."

"I punched you?" She asked.

"Well, a somewhat conscious and flailing punch, but yeah."

"Ir-" 

"Don't apologize - makes me queasy."

Solas looked at Varric in surprise, "You know Elven?"

"Picked some up over the years." Varric pulled a smaller coat from a hook near the door and handed it to Enasal, "Here - I think they're trying to butter you up after the whole imprisoning-you-for-crimes-you-didn't-commit thing."

She took it, looking at it. It was a simple coat, leather and lined with fleece. Suddenly she noticed her own clothes sat strangely on her - with tugs and wrinkles inall in the wrong places. Her eyes went down to the shemlem pants and her hand wretched up to adjust the new tunic she wore. Gone were the comfortable dalish pants and her warm cover, replaced by a somewhat rough fabric. The tunic was a nice green color, and it did have some pretty embroidery around the hem that reminded her of the patterns her sister sewed into her clothes.

She wished Shiral was here.

"Where are my clothes? She asked.

"Gone, da'len." Solas said softly, "They were burnt and covered in blood. Nothing but rags."

Enasal stood, hissing in pain as she righted herself and rolled her neck, "How long was I out?"

"All of last night." Solas’ eyes returned to the mark, "And most of today."

She rubbed her face, "Then why am I still tired."

Varric laughed, "Of course, you're still tired. Had a big day yesterday, what with you cutting down giant-ass demons and messing with the fabric of reality."

"Enasal." Solas started, "When we leave this house things might seem very odd and strange to you - but you are in no danger."

Varric took his coat from the back of the chair, chuckling, "By 'feeling calmer,' he means you finally got your sense back. Granted, you still tried to fight us, but-"

"Ir abelas!" She apologized quickly.

He waved her away, "Don't worry, you only got a couple of punches in."

"I punched you?" She asked.

"Well, a few somewhat conscious and flailing punches, but yeah."

"Ir-" 

"Don't apologize, it makes me queasy."

Solas looked at Varric in surprise, "You know Elven?"

"Picked some up over the years." Varric pulled a smaller coat from a hook near the door and handed it to Enasal, "Here - I think they're trying to butter you up after the whole imprisoning-you-for-crimes-you-didn't-commit thing."

She took it, looking at it. It was a simple coat, leather and lined with fleece. Suddenly she noticed her clothes sat strangely on her - with tugs and wrinkles all in the wrong places. Her eyes went down to the shemlem pants and her hand wretched up to adjust the new tunic she wore. Gone were the comfortable dalish pants and her warm cover, replaced by a somewhat rough texture. The tunic was a nice green color, and it had some pretty embroidery around the hem that reminded her of the patterns her sister sewed into her clothes.

"Where are my clothes? She asked.

"Gone, da'len." Solas said softly, "They were burnt and torn, covered in blood. Nothing but rags."

She wished her sister was here.

Enasal stood, hissing in pain as she righted herself and rolled her neck, "How long was I out?"

"All of last night." Solas' eyes returned to the mark, "And most of today."

She rubbed her face, "Then why am I still tired."

Varric laughed, "Of course, you're still tired. Had a big day yesterday, what with you cutting down giant-ass demons and messing with the fabric of reality."

"Enasal." Solas started, "I need you to listen; when we leave this house, things might seem very odd and strange to you - but you are in no danger."

Varric clapped her on the back, "We've got you." He jerked his head to the side, "Now come on - shit's about to get weird."

He wasn't kidding.

The crowd outside was overwhelming, bigger than any crowd she had ever seen up close. A soft gasp announced her arrival, and the gathered crowd turned to face her, their eyes wide and their mouths agape as if they were witnessing something incredible.

"Don't be scared," Varric said from beside her. "We're not going anywhere."

She didn't want to go through that crowd.

She wanted to run.

So many eyes.

Varric pointed at a building atop a slope. "Come on - it's not far."

Enasal looked at Varric, shaking her head a bit.

"It's okay." He put a hand on her back. "Nothing's going to happen to you."

She looked back at the crowd, now whispering among themselves. A few held their hands in prayer, eyes closed as they mouthed rapid words. One woman stood out to her - hands clutched at her heart, tears rolling down her face.

"Yeah, okay," she whispered, voice trimbling.

Varric started down the stairs first, leading her down with him.

The crowd pressed in, hands outstretched as if hoping for coin or bread. She noticed more tear-stained faces and whispered prayers. A man spoke to her, and even though it was quiet, it seemed deafening next to the almost inaudible murmurs.

"Maker bless you."

She took a step back from the man, but Varric urged her on with a gentle push.

"It's the Herald!"

More calls came after that, speaking of the Maker and Andraste, cries of thanks for being in that place at that time…” Through tears, another woman reached out for her. "Andraste's chosen... Maker be praised - you've come."

"Almost there," Varric said again, swatting at the crowd. "Give her some space, come on! Can't you people see you're scaring her?"

And with that, the crowd parted. Hands still reached for her, but Enasal suddenly realized that they had no intention of grabbing her. She didn't understand why they held their hands up that way, but Varric was right. The shit was getting weird.

But the crowd drifted to the back of her mind as they ascended toward the building Varric had pointed out. It seemed much bigger this close - Enasal had to crane her neck to see the top. The doors seemed to span miles upward, with windows resembling multi-colored eyes staring down at her.

She suddenly felt smaller than usual.

When they neared, the soldiers guarding the doors bowed their heads and tapped their fists on the opposite shoulder once before opening the massive doors. She couldn't recall what the building in the Conclave was like, and she wondered if it was as grand as this. As they walked, she turned in slow circles, trying to take in every detail. The space felt warm, bathed in firelight and adorned with red rugs and curtains. But it was just as cold as the outside, and Enasal rubbed her hands together to generate warmth.

"We'll wait for you here," Solas said, nodding towards a closed door.

Varric nodded. "Yeah, if you need us to scream or do that... stupidly loud whistle thing you did - seriously, kid, how'd you do that?"

The argument could be heard through the closed door, voices shooting back and forth, words clamoring over each other in an attempt to be heard.

“You’ll be fine.” Varric chcukled, putting his thumb up in the air.

Enasal squited her eeys, mimicking in clear confusion.

He grinned, “”We’ll work on that later, okay?”

She let her arm fall back to her side, looking at th doorway again.

"Go on, da'len," Solas urged.

It wasn't the entrance she had imagined. She had envisioned walking through the door with confidence, head held high and sure. But she expected the door to be much heavier - and on her insistent push, it flung open, slamming hard against the wall.

The arguing stopped, and the group turned to look at her.

She really wished people would quit staring at her.

"You!" 

It was the shem from earlier, the hateful chanty one. He pointed at her, looking between tow guards, “Chain the elf! She will answer for the things she’s-”

Cassandra pushed him away from her, saying in a firm and measured voice, "I do not believe she is guilty."

Enasal raised her eyebrows as she stared at Cassandra.

But the other man continued, "She failed, Seeker! The breach is still in the sky!"

Cassandra took a step closer to Rodrick, drawing herself up and narrowing her eyes.

He turned to the others in the room - the red-haired woman from before and the frighteningly tall man from the battlefield. "For all we know, she intended it that way! Now shackle the elf-

Cassandra looked at the guards. "Disregard that order and leave us."

They seemed more than happy to take their leave, both doing a quick salute towards the commander before rushing out the door.

"You walk a dangerous line, Seeker!" Rodrick growled.

"Ir abel-" Enasal regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth.

Rodrick swung his attention back to her. "You failed!"

Enasal took a step back. "I meant, I'm sorry! I did everything I-"

Rodrick huffed. "Where it clearly wasn't enough."

Leliana had been silently watching but finally spoke, "Someone was behind the explosion in the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not suspect. Perhaps they died with the others." She stared at Rodrick as she spoke, her eyes sharp. "Or have allies who yet live."

Rodrick slammed his hands on the table. "Are you saying I'm a suspect?"

"Along with many others," she said vaguely.

"But not the prisoner?" He asked incredulously.

Cassandra shook her head, pointing at Enasal. "I heard voices at the temple. the Divine called to her for help."

Rodrick huffed. "So her survival... that thing on her hand." He wrinkled his nose, "All a coincidence?"

"Providence."

It was a word Enasal didn't know, or at least she didn't know how to translate it. But Cassandra spoke it with an air of reverence. Behind her, the commander nodded in silence, while Leliana leaned against the wall.

Cassandra looked down at her, "The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour."

Enasal balked, shaking her head. "Me? But..." She touched the vallaslin on her face, her fingers grazing the lines.

Cassandra nodded, "Humans are not the only people who care for the fate of this world."

"Yes," Leliana agreed, "The breach remains, and your mark is our only hope of closing it."

Enasal looked at her marked hand, flexing her fingers. "You... still think I can?”

Rodrick straightened himself and jerked his chin up defiantly. "That is not for you to decide."

Cassandra grabbed a massive book from a nearby desk and slammed it on the table with all her might. Enasal swore the ground shook.

"Do you know what this is, Chancellor?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but Cassandra interrupted him.

"It is a writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. At this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn." She nodded to Leliana and the commander, who returned the gesture. Cassandra stalked over to the chancellor until they were nose to nose, her finger jabbing at his chest. "We will close the breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval."

He scaowled, "How dare-!"

The commander rubbed at one of his temples. "Would you please shut up?"

His mouth snapped shut.

Cassandra leaned in close again. "Now, get out before I let the Commander throw you out."

Rodrick paled but maintained his glare as he stormed out of the door.

That grand book sat on the table, thick as her palm and worn from many years of existence. It was an important book, whatever it meant. But she didn't understand its significance or even how to pronounce the words well enough to ask.

She was brought back to reality by a sharp pain in one of her fingers. It was quick, there and gone like a static shock. "I... I thought you were going to kill me."

Cassandra looked away. "We were wrong - I was wrong."

She shifted her weight, rubbing her hands together.

"Will you help us?" Cassandra asked, offering her hand. "Help us fix it before it is too late?"

She actually knew this one. She had seen villagers do it from a distance, grabbing hands and shaking them up and down. It was a sort of agreement, a vow. And this woman wanted to shake her hand.

She could actually do something useful.

She could help.

“Yes.” She said breathlessly, clasping Cassandra’s hand. Then, in a voice so earnest and solemn she barely recognized it, she said with a trembling voice, “I vow.”

Read the full fic from the beginning at my A03 here!

If you’re willing and able, feel free to donate to my ko-fi or drop a tip in the jar to help me afford my many medications to keep the crazy at bay!

Credits:

Artwork of Enasal drawn by the talented @vahingoniloinenlapsi

I used Project Elvhen on Ao3 to help with the 'Dalish'.

[sapphireangelbunny]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford Characters: Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Cullen Rutherford, Cassandra Pentaghast, Leliana (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Solas (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: i'll add tags as the story goes Summary:

Kayla never felt at home anywhere, even among her loving dalish clan. Her keeper sends her to investigate the Conclave. A gathering of mages and templars in a last test for peace. Kayla is thrown into the mess when the Temple of Sacred Ashes explodes, killing everyone inside but her.