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horsemenoftheapocalypse-if · 6 months

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(First ever collaboration IF between the Author of King's Despair and Dragon's Edged.)

Writer's Links: Dragon's Edged & King's Despair

(Warning: 18+ The story includes the following: Violence, , self-doubt, cliché’s, child abuse, torture, trauma and many more will be added in the future.)

Kroz&Author

"Greetings, Reader!

You are about to enter a world of darkness, danger, and deception.

A world where a child has been sold to the most powerful underworld company known as the Fates. A world where you will have to make life-or-death decisions for them. This is not a typical story of an orphan or a survivor.

This is a story of a child who has to learn how to kill, lie, and manipulate in order to survive in the dark side of New York City. A city where crime never sleeps and where the Fates control everything from the shadows.

You are not just a passive observer of this story. You are an active participant. You are the voice, the intuition, the gut feeling of the child protagonist. You will have to guide them through their trials and tribulations, their choices and consequences, their victories and defeats. But be careful, Reader.

The Fates are watching your every move. They have plans for you and the child. Plans that may not end well for either of you.

Are you ready to take on this challenge, Reader? Are you ready to face the Fates? Reader I beckon you to join them on this extraordinary adventure, where danger lurks at every turn, and the stakes are unimaginably high.

Through your unwavering presence, you will empower our young hero to face their fears, outsmart their enemies, and ultimately shape their own destiny.

Prepare yourself for a thrilling and immersive experience. Brace for the adrenaline-pumping encounters, the unexpected alliances, and the heart-wrenching decisions that will test the limits of our protagonist's resilience.

The fate of our young protagonist lies in your hands. Choose wisely, for their life depends on it. Decided are we?

Then come closer, and let me tell you more about this story…"

Introduction:

You were a kid, was a kid, now your a cold-blooded killing machine.

Dispensing justice and vengeance using your guns and knives. A modern robin hood you ask? Nope your not wearing any leotard pants or cap.

You're a merciless executioner, killing anyone who crosses your way. But underneath all that bloodshed and brutality, you still have a soft spot for kids.

It all started when you were taken by a prolific assassin, who decided to make you his protege. Armed with guns and knives, he taught you how to kill, track and hunt. But there was one rule that he made you live by, "No children, we never hurt them". That code fueled your respect for the man.

Through rigorous training, you became an expert in sharpshooting, knife throwing, and stealth. You even surpassed the master assassin, becoming the leader of your own hit squad. Together you and him started cleaning the streets from drugs, hoodlums, pimps and mafias. That made you a hero to the poor and downtrodden. But you were known by the authorities as a murderer and vigilante.

Despite all the havoc you reaped, you kept your code. Whenever you had a child captive, you would send them back to their families or orphanage. But one day, rumors of a powerful entity known as "The Fate's" were spreading they deal with guns, prostitution, alcohol, guns for hire, and mercenaries.

It was said that they're the Top Dog of the black market, the consigners of death and terrorisms. You know because your were one of the victims in their child trafficking business.

Now it's up to you to take down "The Fates", the only problem is that you couldn't seem to find any hard evidence against them. It was rumored that they cover their tracks so meticulously.

Until one day a member of their organization was sent to the hit list.

The client? The Fates their selves wanting to kill one their own. Yet there is one problem, your just still a rookie under the eyes of your teacher and he's not getting any younger.

"We need you to get a team and a back-up plan," your mentor said. "To get to The Fates, we need to be ready for everything they throw at us."

Despite his worring tone, you were confident that you can end this once and for all.

Now it's up to the great assassin and their protege, to bring the dark side of the world to light and serve justice to those who deserve it.

"It's time, kiddo," he smirked as he patted your back. "You've proven yourself more than ready for what's ahead, you will be leading this team but under my supervision of course!"

This was an exciting step towards finally taking down the Fates. With your mentor and you leading the team, you were sure it will be successful. After all, this was his legacy, and you will be a part of it. Together, you and him gathered a group of skilled mercenaries, sharpshooters, and information brokers.

You knew it wasn't going to be an easy mission. The Fates were known for their ruthless methods and their underhand tactics. To take them down, you needed to be able to outsmart them.

But this wasn't a rite of passage or even a battle of egos. This was a race against time, a race to save countless souls like you, who were trapped and used for the Fates' twisted plans.

Elizabeth Baker, The Rider of Death

"Appearances can be deceiving. I don't have to be gentle with my words to save your life."

She was once a respected doctor at a prestigious hospital, admired by colleagues and loved by patients. Her passion for saving lives and talent for surgery were well-known. However, everything changed when she uncovered the hospital's dark truth. They were charging exorbitant fees while using second-hand equipment and expired drugs. The medical director was involved in a corruption scheme, siphoning off millions of dollars.

When Elizabeth confronted him, he responded with threats and violence. In self-defense, she accidentally killed him with a scalpel. Fleeing the scene, she left behind her career and reputation, going into hiding. In the underworld, she became a freelance doctor, offering services to criminals and outcasts.

Operating in secret locations, she used whatever tools and resources she could find. Her prices were high, but she maintained high standards. Morality and legality didn't matter to her clients as long as they paid well and respected her rules. With a sharp tongue and a cold heart, she became the most sought-after doctor in the underworld.

Over time, her skills grew, and she began performing complex procedures like organ transplants and limb replacements. You and your mentor have made countless deals with Death, even cheating him a few times, so you know how to handle someone like her.

Nate O'Neil, The Rider Of Conquest

"The beauty of an explosion's light surpasses that of a sunrise!"

Nate is an unpredictable force within the group. He excels at causing explosions and demolishing obstacles, making him the go-to person for such tasks. Nate embodies chaos and has a twisted love for destruction.

Recklessness defines Nate. He thrives in dangerous situations, embracing the adrenaline rush that comes with each explosive endeavor. With a devil-may-care attitude, he charges into any situation, leaving destruction in his wake. His disregard for personal safety often leaves his comrades on edge, unsure of what he might do next.

Nate's passion for pyrotechnics is unmatched. He finds beauty in the chaos and destruction that fire brings, taking pleasure in watching things go up in flames. His eyes light up at explosions, and his laughter echoes through the chaos as he revels in the fiery spectacle. He is a true pyromaniac, using the world as his canvas to paint with flames.

But Nate is not just a reckless demolition expert; he is also the life of the party. With his larger-than-life personality, he fills the room with infectious energy. His boisterous laughter and dark jokes keep everyone entertained, even in dire circumstances. Nate can turn any situation into a comedy show, ensuring there is never a dull moment.

He possesses an innate talent for determining the right amount of explosive power needed to achieve the desired result, whether it's breaching a secure facility or creating a distraction with a chaotic firework display.

Nate is also one of the most loyal members of the group. He always has their back, regardless of the situation. He willingly puts himself in harm's way to protect his comrades and will fight fiercely for them if necessary. His bravery knows no bounds, and while his recklessness can sometimes lead to trouble, it is ultimately his heroic actions that make him the beloved daredevil he is today. Nate O'Neil is a wild card, a dynamo of destruction, and the heart of humor in the group. He reminds everyone that even in the darkest times, laughter and explosions can still exist, and he is always ready to ignite excitement wherever he goes.

Haley Jones, The Rider Of Famine

"When I look through the scope, all I see is you."

Haley, a Texan country girl, was born and raised on a ranch. She had a fiery spirit and a talent for precision. While she was no stranger to hard work and the thrill of the open fields, it was the touch of cold metal and the weight of a sniper rifle that truly ignited her passion.

From a young age, Haley displayed an uncanny talent for marksmanship. Her ability to hit headshots with unwavering accuracy earned her the title of the best sniper in her town's academy. Instead of pursuing a military career, Haley chose to become an assassin, targeting key figures who committed heinous acts.

Haley's movements were as precise as her shots. She never missed a target and always completed her missions efficiently. Her sass and flirtatiousness added to the mystique that surrounded her. She often used her curves to distract opponents, giving her time to get into optimal shooting position. People said that if you heard Haley's rifle, it was already too late - you had been marked and there was no escaping your fate.

Despite being an elite assassin, Haley never lost sight of her roots. She took pride in her Texan heritage and maintained a strong work ethic. After every assignment, she would return home to the ranch to decompress from the chaos. Among familiar faces, she would tend to the fields or go horseback riding, finding solace in the simplicity of her upbringing.

David Garcia, The Rider Of War

"I don't engage in meaningless conversations. Prove your worth or go away."

David is a mysterious and versatile individual. In private, he is quiet and reserved, preferring simple communication. However, during missions, he surprises even his closest allies with his various personas.

David is quick-witted and can easily become a charismatic trickster. With his clever wordplay and silver tongue, he can turn the tide of a battle without using force.

Flirtation comes naturally to David, and he uses it to manipulate and gather information. It's hard to determine his true intentions when encountering him.

Regardless of the roles he assumes, David is always dedicated to completing his missions. He will do whatever it takes to accomplish his tasks, whether it's infiltrating an enemy stronghold or uncovering a sinister plot.

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kjscottwrites · 2 years

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Do you read erotica? Do you have opinions about how erotic language is used? Good news! I've got a survey for that ~

EDIT: Survey is CLOSED! Stay tuned for results - coming soon!

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beautifulbookishdisaster · 4 months

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"One doesn't need magic if one knows enough stories."

Heather Fawcett, Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries

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kittenofdoomage · 1 year

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A Bargain Struck

Summary: Inspired by this post on Tumblr and the lovely @angryschnauzer. You’ve struck a bargain with something unholy, and now he wants his due.

Pairing: demonic!Geralt x female!reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, demonic rituals, selling souls, everyone’s over the age of 18, this is a sort of medieval AU, use of horns for leverage during sex, transformations during sex, probably a lot of blasphemy?, it’s filth yet fluffy? Soft!Geralt is definitely a thing here. Let’s get weird. Uh, size kink, wing kink, demonic tongue fucking, definitely monsterfucking.

Ao3 Link

A/N: I was too excited to share this one with everyone. I know @deandoesthingstome wanted a tag (I think anyway, I didn't hallucinate that, right?) but haven't tagged anyone else to read. Let me know what you think, in gif form or otherwise!

She can’t help but feel joy when her sister, younger than her by only a few years, bursts through the door of their cottage, laughing as Dotty nips at the hem of her dress. It is a relatively new sight to behold, to see Emily filled with such life, when only weeks before she had been expected to die. “The moon, Y/N, did you see it?” she gasps, coming to a stop at the table, leaning on it with her hands to stare out of the window. “It’s so pretty!”

“I’ve seen,” Y/N replies, turning away from her sibling so she doesn’t see the worry in her eyes. It’s a blood moon, huge and pinkish red, filling the horizon in a stunningly clear sky. You have until midnight at the blood moon, he had said, the formless voice in the darkness that had granted her wish for her sister to live. She knew the price when she sought him out; it was clear in the ritual. Her sister’s life for her soul, bound to him for eternity.

A price she would gladly pay again.

“You’re quiet,” Emily murmurs, pulling out a chair as Dotty jumps around her. “What are you making?”

“Venison pie for supper. And I’m just concentrating.” The pastry around the edges of her creation are not playing ball, and they need to be perfect. This is her last meal with her family, and she intends to savor every moment of it. “Would you mind setting the table?”

She’s spent the last three weeks worrying if they will cope without her. He had given her assurances of a long happy life, but the what ifs and maybes still linger, nibbling at her thoughts until she was consumed with anxiety over it.

Emily hums as she gathers the dishes and cutlery for dinner, making Y/N smile as she finally gets the pastry to behave. The oven billows out a plume of hot air when she tugs the door open, and she shoves the pie in. “There we go,” she mutters, wiping the grease off of her hands onto her apron. “It should be ready when Mother gets home.”

“She’s still at the church?” her sister asks.

Chuckling, Y/N locates her cup of tea, happy to find it still warm enough to drink. “Well, your recovery was nothing short of miraculous,” she sighs. “Mother just thinks she needs to pay Him back.” She could have told her, of course, but their mother had always fallen on the more devout side of religious, and she didn’t think any good could come of confessing her deal with the devil, or something like him at the very least. The last thing she needed is to be locked up for being a witch - if she wasn’t there to pay the price, he could take back what he’d given, and she would not let that happen.

The cottage fills with the scent of the pie as it cooks. Y/N prepares the vegetables, listening to Emily chat about her day, wiping away an errant tear as she soaks in her sister’s excitement and zest for life. She wishes dearly that she could be there to see her grow and learn, maybe get married and have children, and hates even more that she won’t be. As the time to say goodbye creeps closer, she feels her nerves churning into an uncomfortable ball that sits in her belly, filling her with dread.

Their mother comes home just as they are plating up the meal, and the conversation revolves around her day at the church. She makes them say a prayer before supper, though Y/N keeps one eye open because she’s certain no prayer or God can save her from what she’s giving herself to.

As her family continues to chatter obliviously, she tries to keep her focus on them, to enjoy the moments she has left with them. Emily is talking about a local boy she has a crush on, and Y/N feels her heart in her throat when her mother asks if she will be going to the market in the morning.

“I hadn’t given it much thought,” she mumbles, cheeks rapidly warming. “How’s the pie?”

“Wonderful as always,” her mother replies. “I don’t know where you get your cooking skills from, certainly not me.” The joke is supposed to make her smile but Y/N only feels regret that she’s leaving them.

“You’re a good cook too,” Emily insists, grinning at her sister who manages a weak curve of her lips.

She’s trying so hard not to show her grief. She should be happy. Her sister will live a full and happy life. Y/N couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.

Dinner is over quickly, and once everything is cleared away, Y/N looks out of the window. The moon is a deeper shade of red now, hanging ominously over the trees in the distance. It’s bright enough that the whole valley is bathed in an eerie crimson, and she shudders as she looks towards the forest and the darkness waiting to greet her.

She still has time. Her sister is already in front of the fire, needlework in hand, humming again like she is prone to do since her recovery. Their mother reads, glasses perched on the end of her nose to make her look far older than she is, and Y/N smiles as she sits between them, letting the warmth of the firelight wash over her.

“You should take the rest of those apples to the market tomorrow,” Mother says quietly, and she nods, even though she knows she’ll never go to market again. The apples will probably rot in the basket.

The night draws on. Mother retires first, kissing her firstborn on the top of the head as she passes, before taking Emily’s hand and looking at her fondly. Y/N watches her go with a heavy ache in her heart, wishing she could say goodbye, and not just leave them without resolution.

“You’re still being quiet,” Emily observes, putting her needlework away. “What’s wrong?”

There’s a second where she’s not sure what to say. She can see herself spilling the truth, dragging a promise from her little sister that she would live her life, fall in love, do all the things Y/N would never get to do. But she can’t say it because then Emily would know, and she couldn’t bear the thought of her sister carrying the weight of that guilt forever.

Sitting up, she smiles, shaking her head. “I’m just tired,” she says, getting up to take over the seat their mother had vacated.

Emily watches her for a moment longer, obviously deciding whether to prod at the subject. When she makes her choice, she sighs, rising from the chair. “Well, I’m tired too, so I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Y/N.” She turns, then pauses before crossing the room to lean down and press a kiss to her sister’s temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N whispers, tears in her eyes. If the younger woman notices, she doesn’t say anything, quickly retreating and leaving her sibling alone.

She waits a while, watching the fire die out until there are only a few embers remaining. Once the red glow fades, she gets to her feet, making her way to her mother’s room first, and she finds her in a deep slumber, one arm slung over the edge of her bed. With a smile, Y/N pulls the door shut, moving to the next, and Emily is asleep too. She lingers for a second, wishing once more that she could say goodbye, but time is running thin, so she closes the door and moves on.

It didn’t seem worth the effort to take anything with her, and it’s easier to move silently with just her cloak. She fastens it at her throat and makes her way out of the cottage, careful to lock the door behind her, slipping the key into her pocket through habit - it’s unlikely she’ll need it again. Pulling her hood up, she walks away from the village and towards the forest, keeping her footsteps light and quick. Her cloak catches on the undergrowth as it gets thicker, and soon she’s picking her way along the narrow path between the trees, feeling more anxious as the darkness crowds her. Further along, the trees are so dense that the moonlight cannot penetrate their leaves and she has to slow to avoid tripping on unseen hazards.

Her destination isn’t all that far. The ground grows steeper, and she has to be more careful as she searches for the ruins in the dark. It helps that she has walked this path before, when she made her bargain, and she knows she’s there when she finds the first stone, stuck upright in the ground with strange symbols she traces with her fingers.

The ruins are empty and dark. Huge stones mark the circle, with some lying flat in the middle, almost like an altar. She doesn’t know what they once were but she can feel the electricity in the air, taste it like iron on her tongue.

“Hello?” she calls in a shaky uncertain voice. It must be nearly midnight; if she looks up, she can see the moon high above the trees. The wind rushes around her, and she shivers, tugging her cloak closed. “Are you here?”

Everything falls silent. A twig snaps, and she spins, peering into the dark thicket of trees between two of the largest stones. She’s about to call again as two golden eyes suddenly become visible, and instinct makes her pull back.

“Hello?” she whispers this time. For some strange reason, she doesn’t feel afraid, just apprehensive and uncertain in the face of something so unholy.

“You are ready to finish our bargain.”

She casts her gaze back the way she came, sorrow heavy in her heart. “I am.”

“The price was agreed,” he murmurs, golden eyes shining in the darkness surrounding him. “Yet I see tears in your eyes. Do you wish to take back what was given?”

Horror fills her, the image of her sister dying slowly still imprinted in her mind. She doesn’t want that. “I’m never going to see my family again,” she replies softly, wiping at her eyes. “Are you so unfeeling that you cannot understand grief?”

He chuckles at that, and she can hear him shifting around. “I understand perfectly.” Squinting isn’t giving her a clearer view of him, though her eyes are still adjusting to the lack of light. “You’re not afraid.”

It’s a statement, made out of curiosity, and she lets her shoulders relax. “I don’t think so,” she whispers. She’s uncertain what faces her, but it’s difficult for anything to overcome the despair at leaving her family. “Can I see you?”

There’s a pause, more rustling, and he clears his throat. “Have you ever seen a demon before?”

“No,” she answers truthfully, even as her mind conjures images of disgusting beasts and eldritch creatures.

He harrumphs under his breath. Y/N watches, unsure what to expect, and then he steps forward, letting the darkness melt away. At first he seems huge, and she hears the rustle of wings, but as he comes closer, he seems to shrink into a more human shape. He’s still tall, broad, rippling with muscle underneath a black shirt that clings to his skin, and the only things that indicate his otherworldliness are his golden eyes, his long white hair, and the two thick black horns curving out from the sides of his head. She sucks in a breath at the sight of him, and he stares at her with a hungry look in his eyes.

“Are you frightened now?” he asks.

There is fear but it’s inspired by a new feeling inside her, something raw and primal, something that’s telling her she belongs to this creature, and she’s not sure if it’s magic or him, or something else entirely. “No,” she says again, shaking her head this time.

His lips curl into a smile. “Curious,” he rumbles. “I knew there was a reason I answered the summons.”

The comment makes her frown. “Aren’t you compelled to?” He laughs, and it’s a sound that makes her insides quiver with need. There’s something strange about him that draws her in, and she takes a step closer to him, tilting her head. “Do you have a name?” she asks boldly.

He watches her in amusement, like he’s never encountered anyone like her before. “Geralt,” he concedes.

It feels more comfortable to have a name to use, though she’s no closer to understanding what is happening. If he didn’t have to respond to the ritual, why did he? The thought makes it out of her mouth before she can stop it, and the amusement doesn’t fade from his face.

“The ritual only binds the one whose blood is used,” he murmurs, closing the distance between them. “You are now bound to me, Y/N, for what I have given you. Do you understand what that means?”

Her mouth goes dry. “You take my soul,” she rasps, eyes watering again. “I have to die.”

There’s a second where he seems confused, and then his knuckles are brushing her cheek, wiping away the errant tear that escapes. “What gave you that idea?” She stares at him, puzzled by his words, and he’s suddenly right there, looming over her, one meaty paw cupping her face. Her heart is racing at his proximity, and she begins to understand exactly what he wants from her. “You’re mine now,” he repeats softly. “I will only ever protect you.”

“I-I don’t understand,” she breathes, lifting her hands to brace them against his chest, to stop him getting closer or just to touch him - she’s not certain which. He’s real and solid under her palms, and she’s surprised when she feels the dull thud of his heart in his chest.

“I’ve been alone for so long,” he hums, dropping his head just enough to nuzzle the tip of his nose against hers. “I was growing weary of solitude. Then I heard your plea…”

His lips brush hers, and she stuns herself by lifting her chin, allowing him to initiate the kiss. It’s not like she hasn’t been kissed before, she’s just never been kissed with such raw need, and before she can register it, he has her body pinned against his, held in place with a hand on her lower back. She can barely breathe when he breaks away to look down at her; his eyes are nearly black and it’s too hard to pull her gaze away.

“But you’re a demon,” she mumbles.

He answers in a gentle tone, almost amused by her dazed reaction. “I cannot help what I am.” His hand is around her hip now, keeping their bodies pressed together, and she can feel something hard digging into her belly. It takes a second for her to realize; her eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away.

“You want me to be your companion,” she says slowly, acutely aware of how large he is. “For me to - to -”

Geralt smiles, and it’s a hungry smile, exposing his sharp canines. “Yes,” he confirms, voice thick and syrupy. “I knew as soon as I heard your plea. You are lonely too.”

She wants to be indignant at that, to deny it, except she has always been lonely. Once she thought she had found someone who she had been prepared to give her whole heart to, only for him to shatter the dream and walk away. Since then, her only duty had been to her family, and though she loved them dearly, she had never tried to be anything but the perfect daughter and sister.

“You see?” Geralt draws her back to the present. “You ache for someone to love you. To care for you. It’s why you were so ready to sacrifice yourself for your sister.” His hand somehow covers the whole side of her head, which should be terrifying, but she’s leaning into it, finding comfort in the touch. “You’re mine, Y/N.”

She nods, almost in a daze. He pulls back, taking her hand to lead her to the altar-like stone in the middle of the ruins, and she follows without question. When he sits, he drags her between his thighs, and the angle is much friendlier to her neck when he kisses her again.

“I need to hear you say it,” he growls, unclasping her cloak to let it fall to the ground.

Her eyes lock on his. The golden in them is nearly entirely eaten by black, and a rush of warmth ends right at her core. “I’m yours,” she manages weakly, suddenly acutely aware of the pounding of her heart and the blood in her veins. She feels like she should resist simply because he’s a demon, but she doesn’t feel any danger from him at all.

He tugs her dress up, slicing through the fabric that gets in his way with sharpened claws that are gone by the time he finds her flesh. Heat floods her face when he rubs thick fingers against her sex, and she flings out a hand to brace herself against his shoulder, leaning to the side as he sinks a single digit inside her. It’s thicker than anything that’s ever been inside her before, making her squeak and cling to him, and a rumble of amusement echoes in his chest.

“I’m not a virgin,” she whispers, suddenly in fear of disappointing him.

“Neither am I,” he replies in a quiet laugh. She gasps as he works a second finger into her, and she begins to think that if his cock is bigger than this, he might not fit. Somewhere in the back of her mind, there’s a part of her that rallies against the idea of intimate relations with a demon, but she ignores it in favor of his touch, gasping as he thrusts his fingers inside her as deep as they can go.

She can hear how wet she’s getting, and he can too, grunting his appreciation when his fingers come out glistening. When he pushes them into her again, she whimpers, rocking her hips to meet his movement, focusing on the fire he’s igniting in her belly. She’s felt it before, just not this powerful, like she’s forgotten how to breathe, and before she can vocalize the pleasure, her pussy clenches and she’s dripping down his wrist. He moans, almost covering the squelch of his fingers as they keep sinking into her over and over, forcing her to ride out every wave of her orgasm until he’s satisfied she’s done.

He withdraws, allowing her to rest as he tears his shirt off, but her attention has moved to the bulge in his pants. Reaching out, she brushes her fingers against it, looking up sharply when he growls low in his throat and slides his hand to the fastening. His cock springs free the second it's able, and she swallows around the lump in her throat, still uncertain she can take him.

Her apprehension must have been plastered across her face. He catches her chin, forcing her to look at him, and she sees reassurance in his eyes. “It will feel good,” he says softly, taking hold her hand to guide it to his shaft. It’s warm to touch, solid under her fingertips, so she grasps him in her hand, tentatively stroking down then up, smiling when he moans. “That’s it,” he purrs, pressing his hand between her thighs again.

The intrusion of his fingers is familiar now her body has adjusted but he takes his time to open her up properly, bringing her to the cusp of climax after climax. By the time he is hauling her into his lap, she’s a panting mess, yet she still hesitates as he presses the wide tip of his shaft to her entrance, using his fingers to position himself. His golden gaze fixes on hers when he begins to drag her down, and for a moment, she’s convinced he’ll break her, then the first inch is in and she practically begs for the rest. He sinks up into her slowly, letting her pussy drench him to ease his path, and when he’s finally buried deep, she can’t breathe for the pressure in her belly. Her walls hug him tightly, cockhead snug against her cervix, and he keeps her right there, grinding inside while she can do nothing except accommodate him.

“How does it feel?” he asks in a gravelly voice that makes her feel like he’s holding something back.

“You’re -” She still can’t control her breathing, almost shivering through overstimulation. “You’re so big, I -”

“Hmmm.” He sounds amused, watching as she gasps and splutters, pressing her hands against his chest before sliding them to his shoulders. “Would you like me to move?”

She whimpers with a nod. “Yes,” is all she can manage, and he chuckles, putting his hands to her waist. The first slow pull away from him has her digging her nails into his shoulders, but her body is quickly acclimatizing and when he’s almost fully withdrawn, she only wants him back inside her. He gives her exactly what she wants, filling her again, and she cries out in ecstasy, drowning out his low possessive growl.

There’s an electricity in the air when he begins to fuck her, overriding her meager strength to manipulate her body until she’s almost out of her mind with pleasure. The intensity of it makes her feel like she might die if he stops, or if he doesn’t; either way, she’s craving more and more, and it seems he is more than willing to give it. She comes for him easily, easing his path into her slick channel even more, and she’s sobbing by the time she’s done, prompting him to slow just a little.

He growls as she leans back just a little, held in his grasp. “I want to see all of you,” he grunts.

A clawed finger tears down the front of her dress. The fabric falls either side, exposing her breasts, and Geralt doesn’t hesitate, curling his long tongue around one stiff peak as she moans decadently. She reaches up, letting her fingers slide over the horns either side of his head, tugging experimentally. It inspires a moan that vibrates out against her sensitive skin, so she does it again, using the slight leverage to lift off of his cock before sinking back down.

He doesn’t stop her when she does it again. His hands tighten around her waist, giving her assistance on each stroke, bringing her down hard until she’s stuffed with him again. “I want to see all of you too,” she whines, resting her hands at the base of his horns. “I want to see what you really look like.”

Releasing her breast, he meets her gaze, baring his teeth slightly as she keeps moving. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs.

“You won’t,” she promises desperately.

His grip on her waist tightens, forcing her to slow. She gasps, watching the slow ripple as he relinquishes the control over his form, whimpering when he pulls her down hard on his cock as it grows with him, pushing her to her limit. Large black wings sprout from his back, his teeth become sharper, and his eyes glow; he’s breathtaking and terrifying, or he should be, but she feels no fear, only the need for him.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, holding her down on his cock with clawed hands.

“Yes,” she hisses, panting and wriggling to relieve the unbearable pressure in her belly. He grabs her hand, pressing it down against her gut, and her eyes go wide. “Oh -” She can feel him, right underneath her palm, throbbing inside her.

“Like you were made for me,” he snarls, rocking his hips again so she can feel the thick girth dragging against her walls. “You’re mine.”

He moves before she can react, finding herself naked and pinned underneath him on the stone altar. His wings expand then contract, surrounding them as he slides down her body, covering her aching cunt with his mouth. She yelps when she feels his tongue probing her entrance, thick and long, wriggling, and it’s a new sensation that curls her toes as he pushes the flexible organ inside her. It doesn’t fill her like his cock does but it seems to touch every hidden part of her, and she can’t catch her breath, panting hard as she reaches a new high on his tongue.

She’s shaking from head to toe, yet he doesn’t stop, groaning against her pussy, nuzzling against her clit. The additional point of stimulation makes her reach down, sliding her fingers around one horn, and he snarls, fucking his tongue into her with a little more vigor. Her back arches at the unexpected force, and she can feel her heart hammering hard in her chest. She screams and writhes, but he holds her in place until he’s satisfied, and she’s boneless, eyelids fluttering as she fights the urge to pass out.

Withdrawing slowly, he climbs up her body, lining up his monstrous cock once more, and she feels like she’s looking up at a god instead of a demon. Her thoughts are swept away in the next instant when he cants his hips forward, burying his cock to the root inside her aching channel again. She falls apart in seconds, crying out until he silences her with a heady kiss.

Time is meaningless. Every thrust sends her spiraling, raking her nails over his biceps as he claims her body along with her soul. She can’t think between bursts of ecstasy except for one driving need to feel him come inside her.

He growls as his strokes become sloppy, harder, faster, and finally, he buries himself as deep as he can, punching a choked cry out of her lungs as he spills into her. It’s hot and thick, and she groans as he keeps her still, riding out his orgasm and grinding deep until he’s done.

Her head rolls from side to side as the pleasure resides, though she can still feel him buried inside her, keeping his seed deep in her womb. He doesn’t move yet, coaxing her into a soft kiss as he remains with his wings sheltering them from the cold air. She hiccups a sob against his mouth, letting her fingers tangle in his hair, and when they part, she gasps for breath.

“Do not fret,” he murmurs, nuzzling into her gently.

She doesn’t feel up to anything like fretting at that moment, even as she looks up at his demonic countenance. Her limbs feel like jelly, and she’s certain she could fall asleep in the warmth of his hold. “Will they be alright without me?” she asks, because she has to know, and she trusts him to give her the truth.

He nods, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Yes.”

It’s all she needs. Her eyes flutter shut as she curls into his chest, contentment washing through her as the demon holds her close, lifting her from the stone to carry her towards the darkness he had come from.

When dawn breaks, all that is left is her cloak and a few tattered rags.

Thanks for reading! Please, please let me know if you liked it 🤗

#geralt x reader #demon geralt #monsterfucking #smut #adult fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #the witcher #geralt of rivia #reader insert #pwp #female!reader #angst #fluff #smutty smut smut

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anoelleart · 8 months

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Intro 💃🏾✨

Hi! I'm Alyssa (she/her). I'm a scientist, artist, and writer. I've decided to throw my writing into the void and see what happens!

I'm educated as a scientist, but I spend my free time drawing, painting, writing, and playing music. I've been writing my whole life, but I first shared my work on Wattpad. I started writing consistently again a few months ago. I primarily write science fiction/fantasy with a touch of romance.

***

My current WIP is titled "The Protolith."

[Stock credits: Cathleen Tarawhiti, Faestock, Digital Curio, Phoenix Rising on DeviantArt]

This novel follows Charlotte, a biracial medical student and noblewoman who seeks to bring honor back to her disgraced family. This second world fantasy takes place in a world scarred by an ancient, unexplored meteorite, in an Empire where the traditional theocracy and sexually liberated culture are constantly at odds. Follow Charlotte as she faces unexplained magicks while haunted by past, romantic affairs.

I'd love to meet other authors! Pls reach out if you have similar interests so we can be friends : )

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The Protolith

Posts:

WIP Intro

Blurb

Book Cover

The OCs & Character Intros

Thoughts on "Representation in Fantasy Settings": 1 2 3

Part 1 Playlist for Chapters 1-6, 7-12, 13-19

Chapters:

The Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Excerpts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 (not chronological)

[I only post the first scene from each chapter, so please click the "read more!" link to read the entire chapter]

***

#writing #writers on tumblr #writer blog #fantasy #scifi #romance #women of color #lgbtq #gaslamp fantasy #current wip #wip #protolith #new to writerblr #writeblr #dark academia #forbidden romance #adult fiction

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monsieurenjlolras · 3 days

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I don't say this as an insult to YA fiction because there are some amazing works in that genre, but The Locked Tomb is absolutely not YA fiction. It's almost an advanced science textbook

#the amount of brainpower you have to dedicate to following everything going on in thus series holy shit im on my third read through #and im still fully understanding it #tamsyn invented like a whole new physics #the locked tomb #adult fiction #live from the musain

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mcversipellis · 7 months

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“True friends share everything, except the past before they met.”

― Mary Renault, Fire from Heaven

*Redid my old (not really old, they’re from last year🙄) illustrations on the historical novel “Fire from heaven” which follows a journey of Alexander the Great through childhood to the very end.

#illustration #book illustration #vintage illustration #book art #quotes #vintage #books #ancient greek #ancient art #alexander the great #fire from heaven #adult fiction #historical fiction #hephaistion #ancient aesthetic #fanart #mary renault #macedonia

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checkoutmybookshelf · 6 months

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...Are We the Bad Guys?

Guys...I was going to be good. I was going to finish a chapter last night and call it good and go to bed. That...SUPER did not happen, because the last few chapters of this book happened which meant that I was just fully up half the night finishing it and I HAVE THOUGHTS. So with that for preamble, let's talk Fourth Wing.

THIS IS A SPOILER-IFIC REVIEW BELOW THE BREAK because I wanna talk about a couple things...so be warned.

Ok, so the TL;DR on Fourth Wing is that it's a romantasy in a military training camp for dragon riders that is full-on enemies to lovers with a protagonist with a disability that reads like Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS). It's also very good, I basically inhaled the book around work and life. I also have THOUGHTS about this book.

Violet Sorrengail is our disabled protagonist, and the daughter of General Lillith Sorrengail was supposed to be a scribe, but her mother basically forces her into trying to become a dragon rider, with everyone from Vi's older sister Mira to her childhood best friend and fellow trainee Dain Aetos think will kill her because she is--as everyone in the damn book describes her--fragile. She obviously does not die, but put a pin in Dain for a second, because we're coming back to his ass after we talk about Vi and how disability was handled in this book.

I am...objectively kind of torn on how this book handles Vi's EDS. On the one hand, I am very much here for getting rid of the idea that a disabled protagonist doesn't belong in any type of story you want to tell, up to and including the ones that involve "graduate or die" styles of training camps. Disability is everywhere, and I am so, so very cool with disrupting the stereotype that disabled protagonists either cannot be in these stories or have to die at the end--and Vi is gloriously alive and kicking at the end of the book.

That said...there are like...hard ceilings and absolute limits on what you can push a body to do, and Vi...kind of doesn't hit EDS-related hard limits in a significant way. Some of that is because she works smarter not harder (poisoning her challenges is flippin' inspired), but some of it is also framed in the book as Vi exercising to strengthen her joints and being creative in executing tasks and challenges, which are great and can absolutely alleviate some symptoms. But then she also refuses the magical healing that has kept her functional (not cured, which I appreciate, just functional) for most of her life to avoid the appearance of weakness. So for someone with a chronic illness that also involves a HELL of a lot of pain and joint issues, this read to me like a combination of toxic strength and refusing actual medical care in favor of like...exercising the symptoms away? And while exercise can absolutely help, it being the only thing combined with bailing on medical treatment read really toxic. I feel like a combination of sneaky care hidden from the other cadets and the exercise might have been less toxic feeling. I know that everyone's bodies are different, and some people can probably manage with exercise, but I do not love the vibe I was getting of "sheer grit and exercise can completely replace medical assistance in managing physical disabilities so you don't look weak to people around you."

To be VERY clear: Needing medical assistance to function has no moral value. Needing it to have the best possible quality of life has no moral value. And I don't love when stories put a moral value on physical strength without medical intervention.

I did appreciate that Vi simply could not physically hold her seat on her dragon by brute strength alone, and that she was accommodated with a saddle with actual straps. And the book does go out of its way to highlight that Vi's moral courage and intelligence are ultimately more valuable to the people and dragons who love her than her physical ability. I just could have done without the firing her mender to avoid looking weak.

And this is where we remember that we put a freaking pin in Dain Aetos, because JFC I have not wanted to reach into a book and punch a fictional character as much as I have Dain in a LONG time. Dain spends the ENTIRE book cutting Vi's confidence out from under her because he's convinced she is too physically weak to survive in the Rider's Quadrant and that he's going to have to watch her die. He says this after she survives the parapet. He says this after she survives having her shoulder ripped to shreds in the physical assessment. He says this after she survives the Gauntlet. After she survives Threshing. After she has BONDED NOT ONLY THE BIGGEST MOST BADASS DRAGON IN THE VALE BUT ALSO A SECOND ADORABLE DRAGON. Dain literally has zero faith in Vi's abilities and instead of helping her survive, he actively gets in the way of her physical and emotional growth. I wanted to PUNCH this man in his smug-ass paternalistic fucking face.

And no, y'all, the whole "I would be absolutely destroyed if I had to watch you die because your body can't handle the environment" is in no way an excuse or even acceptable. It's paternalistic and shitty and moves the focus from VI'S ACTUAL LIFE to his man pain. We don't fucking have that in this house.

In fairness, the book also calls Dain out on this. Everyone from Xaden to Tairn spends the book bitching about how Dain isn't helping Vi. The fact that it's mostly the men around Vi bitching about how they're affecting or not affecting her life and choices isn't my favorite thing either, but I'll take the book calling out at least some toxic paternalistic bullshit, especially where it comes to wrapping girls with disabilities in bubble wrap and trying to put them on shelves against their will.

This also facilitates Dain and Xadens' narrative chiasmus (crossing over). Dain starts as the childhood best friend that Vi wants, and ends up worse than anything he ever accused Xaden of. Xaden, of course, starts out as the literal black-hatted villain with every reason to want to murder Vi himself and ends up as the boyfriend. I did appreciate that little narrative peice, because it was pretty well executed throughout, and Vi having feelings about it was very fun to watch.

The other thing about this book that was stunningly well done was the worldbuilding. Rarely do I see "oh shit, we're the bad guys" done this well, and with this many dragons. It was a ton of fun, and I will absolutely be picking up Iron Flame when it comes out in November. I cannot wait to see what's in store for Vi, Xaden, Dain, and Navarre in general.

#fourth wing #rebecca yarros #fourth wing spoilers #violet sorrengail #dain aetos #xaden riorson #adult fantasy novel #adult fiction #dragons #disability representation #disabled main character #books and reading #books & libraries #books and novels #books #book recommendations

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eruden-writes · 9 months

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Strictly Pleasure - Part 1 (Jek x Heidi)

orc x human paranormal romance

Summary: An awkward fresh-out-of-a-relationship woman and an orc that owns a sex store enter an adult theater together. She, intent on pushing her own boundaries. He, just looking to give her some sense of safety. Well, that and he wouldn't complain about having a bit of fun himself.

After they inevitably get interrupted, Jek deals with the problem while Heidi flees. Resigned, he believes he'll never see her again.

Thus begins Jek and Heidi's sporadic interactions until, eventually, they find themselves fumbling around each other daily at the very place it started: Strictly Pleasure.

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Masterlist | Next

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The human patron had been standing outside Strictly Pleasure’s theater for fifteen minutes. Jek couldn’t recall their name, didn’t think they ever introduced themselves on those occasions they came with their partner or friends. He watched them from the edge of his glasses, while pretending to read on his phone, as they ventured closer to the theater doors before turning away again. They’d busy themselves with some display or make a circuit around the shop before attempting again.

He only stopped watching the customer when Gnadi, his faun employee and co-worker, leaned over to whisper, “Boss, you should ask them if they want company.”

“Pretty sure they have a partner.” Jek kept his voice low and shook his head, but couldn’t help the amused smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. At twenty-six, Gnadi possessed both a hot-libido and aspirations to be a matchmaker. A dangerous combination for Jek, their senior by twenty years, since they were always trying to hook him up with patrons.

“Well, they’re alone now,” Gnadi pointed out, eyes shifting from the customer to him. Their expression made it clear what they thought. Someone alone in Strictly Pleasure without their partner? A break up. Or a soon-to-be break up. “Besides, you know how often the freshly-broken up do things not in their nature.”

With a noncommittal hum, Jek glanced back over at the awkward patron. They certainly looked out of their element, if he had any insight. And there had never been a time in the past when they came without someone, whether it was a partner or friend. If they were here alone, there was a reason.

Nagged by Gnadi’s intent expression and a soft-hearted curiosity, Jek heaved a sigh and pushed off his stool. He ignored his employee’s whispered well wishes in his wake. If he let the words settle, he would get embarrassed, so he focused on closing the distance between himself and the patron. When he was close enough, he lobbed the ever-professional question, “Do you need help?”

Startled, Heidi’s attention snapped up as one of Strictly Pleasure’s employees approached her. Of course, it was the orc. It couldn’t be the androgynous faun, but the orc - with their badge reading ‘Jek’ and ‘he/they’ beneath - that her ex commonly teased her for staring at.

In Heidi’s defense, Jek had an elaborate - involving scales, flowers, and miscellaneous imagery - colorful tattoo sleeve on his left arm, always covered up to some degree. Getting a new peek of additional details always delighted her curiosity. Plus, recently, he had dyed his hair - a braided fauxhawk pulled into a ponytail - a strawberry blonde, which only brought out their usual red under-eye shadow and the red scale-like design in their tattoo.

Further, it wasn’t as if he was hard to look at. Tall and bulky, as orcs were wont to be, and with a face Heidi would consider sculpted, jawline currently sporting a five o’clock shadow. A scar notched across his nose, but there were no other scars she could see beyond that. Not that she looked too hard, of course,

“I’m fine,” she squeaked, trying to maintain eye contact with Jek’s hazel green gaze.

“Really?” Jek tilted his head until he peered over his half-moon glasses at them. “Because it looks like you’ve been trying to head into the theater for about twenty minutes now.”

Another flash of heat jolted through Heidi, her eyes widening behind her glasses. “You’ve been watching me?”

The way their eyes widened made a small pang of guilt flash through Jek. It couldn’t be helped. After all, they hadn’t approached for help, but now that he was closer, he realized they were dressed differently than usual. Everything else - from their light brown hair threaded with gray hairs and dark brown eyes magnified behind square frames - made faint memories bob to his thoughts.

In the past, they’d worn jeans and a t-shirt with a hoodie whenever they came in. Tonight, the only thing familiar was their hoodie. Under that, they wore a wine red dress, low cut to show off ample cleavage and high hemmed to show off supple thigh. Vaguely, Jek wondered if they had bought the fishnets in his store, commending how the fabric strung tight around their plush legs.

Jek found his fingertips itching to coast over their legs, feel the ridges of the fishnet under his palm. Honestly, their entirety - from full breasts above rounded tummy down to their wide hips and pillow thighs - made Jek want to sink his fingers into them.

Not quite forgetting himself, he gave a mild affirmative grunt in response to their question.

His wordless reply made Heidi wince. It was his store and he did have to monitor customers, she reminded herself. That still didn’t make her anxiety lessen though. With her shoulders slumping, Heidi sighed and looked away from Jek and toward the theater. “Okay, okay. Yes, I’ve been trying to build up the courage to head in.”

“If you’re nervous, why not come with someone?” He leaned a shoulder on the wall by the theater’s entry point, thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans.

The easy posture just highlighted how tall and broad he was compared to Heidi. Even dressed in a simple graphic tee, jeans, and black unbuttoned short-sleeved button-up, there was something about Jek that oozed quiet assurance. Heidi couldn’t say the same for herself, with how often she fidgeted and tugged at her dress. It just felt so flimsy compared to go-to jeans.

“No, I don’t,” she mumbled in return, another flash of mortification gnawing at her insides. It shouldn’t be something to be ashamed of, she knew, but there was an implication in her current actions that made her feel juvenile. With a sigh, she fessed up to the feelings, “It’s a story you’ve heard a lot, I’m sure. Doing something new and exciting because my boyfriend broke up with me and I’m too embarrassed to talk to my friends about this.”

Jek definitely had heard the story before, whether it was a recent break-up with a significant other or a divorce from a now-ex spouse. When he was younger, he entertained plenty of them. Often during business hours and in the back room. Hell, he still did on occasion.

Usually, the newly-adventurous in these cases never returned. If they did, it was usually after they had found a new partner. Sometimes they were awkward around him, other times they were completely fine. As if whatever they’d done hadn’t even happened.

Something coaxed Jek to look over his shoulder. From the counter, Gnadi watched with a grin, stirring ghosts of embarrassment inside Jek. Gods, why was he even humoring his employee?

It wasn’t like he could back down no. Not after finding out what this person was going through and not with Gnadi observing. Fuck him, Gnadi would probably loudly ‘suggest’ Jek accompany the patron if he dared to return to the counter. Turning back to them, seeing their conflicted expression and attention turned back to the theater, Jek sighed. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

Once more, Jek surprised her. Her attention swung back to him, confusion creasing the spot between her eyebrows. Why would he want to come back there with her? Wasn’t he on the clock? “You have the store to look after.”

Jek nodded back toward his co-worker, putting off far more nonchalance than he felt. “Gnadi has it handled.”

Heidi glanced to where he motioned, finding the faun smiling and waving from the counter. She pressed her lips together as a concerns washed over her. “Is that even legal? For you to go back there with me?”

In return, Jek gave a lackadaisical shrug, grunting an ‘I don’t know’ answer.

Worrying at her bottom lip, Heidi glanced from Jek to the theater doors once more. If he could get in trouble, he wouldn’t offer, right? But who would get him in trouble? He owned the store and she wasn’t about to report him for helping her. Besides, having someone with her, someone that could keep her safe if creeps crept up in her, did ease her anxiety.

Trying not to focus on how embarrassing the whole ordeal was, Heidi nodded. “Alright, sure.”

Pushing off the wall, Jek headed toward the faun and the register. “Okay, cool. Before we head back there, you need to pay at the counter.”

Shock brought a strangled sound from Heidi as she half-jogged after him. Shit, of course she’d have to pay. Why didn’t she think of that earlier? Better yet, why didn’t he tell her earlier? Before Heidi could stop herself, she blurted, “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

For the first time since approaching them, a partial grin broke around Jek’s tusks. He inclined his head toward the customer, but didn’t pause in his transit. “It was funny watching you argue with yourself.”

He actually meant cute. It was cute to watch them torment themselves over going in, especially when they’d retreat to a safer distance and theatrically busy themselves with something. Few people enjoyed being the object of mildly sadistic amusement, though. Funny was safer than cute.

Heidi shot him a withering look, though she feared it was a little less potent given the flush on her cheeks. By that point, they had reached the register. Pointing out how rude his actions would be a waste of time.

Once more trying to ignore how warm her face felt and hoping her voice didn’t crack, Heidi turned to the faun. “What’s the cost for the theater?”

“Six bucks.” Gnadi’s grin shifted from amusement to a softer smile as they looked at her. While Heidi rifled through her purse for the money, Gnadi tilted their eyes back to their boss. She missed how Jek tensed under their employee’s gaze. “So, who’s your friend, bossman?”

“Uh.” Oh, right. He hadn’t bothered with formal introductions. After all, he wore a nametag and it wasn’t like most people who came into Strictly Pleasure gave their name and pronouns.

Before Jek could fumble through the question, she crisply cut in while handing the cashier her payment, “Heidi. She/they.”

Once Heidi and Gnadi exchanged cash and receipt, she jammed the paper into her purse and turned away. Determinedly, she headed toward the theater, propelled by embarrassment and the fact she had paid for entry now.

Gnadi waited until she was a few steps away before leaning over the counter and muttering to Jek, “Smooth move, bossman. Not even asking their name before propositioning her.”

“Oh, shut up.” Jek barely refrained from running a hand down his face as he turned to follow Heidi. Whatever feelings had buoyed her to the door must have run out, since she paused to wait for him.

Her nerves flared up around her as Jek pulled the door open, motioning her to go first.

Heidi peered into the darkened room, the sounds inside making curiosity and nervousness battle in her head. One glance up at Jek, who watched her with that annoying slight grin and cocked eyebrow, made up her mind for her. She’d show him to be amused by her inexperience and shyness.

Adjusting her purse on her shoulder, Heidi marched into the dark depths of Strictly Pleasure’s theater as Jek tailed after her.

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If you want more now, read the next part on:

*:･ﾟ✧ Patreon *:･ﾟ✧

I also love, love, love comments, tags, and reblogs! Seeing readers’ reactions motivates me.

#orc #monster #monster lover #monster fucker #human x orc #orc x human #paranormal romance #fantasy romance #adult fiction #strictly pleasure #sp #jek #heidi

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