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leighsartworks216 · 3 months

Text

Obedient Pet

dom!bottom!Astarion x male!sub!top!Tav/Reader

I saw a while ago something that said being dominant is not the same as being a top, and GOD it did things to my brain chemistry. So this mixed with my belief Astarion would be quiet in bed once he's comfortable and neglect to focus on his own wants/needs

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: swearing, dacryphilia/crying, dom/sub, collars, gagging, not being able to breathe (for a moment), anal sex, face-fucking, references to punishment

Word Count: 1,276

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The chain trailing from the collar around your neck to Astarion's tight fist rattled with every little motion. The sound would have been annoying if it weren't harmonizing with the wet slap of skin.

You kept your hands safely constrained, arms folded behind your back, nails pressing into your skin. You'd tried touching him once already; your cock still weeped from the torture of waiting. Your tears and quiet whimpers were music to Astarion's pointed ears, but the sight of you so drunk on his orders was truly something special.

"Slower," he ordered. You whined, but obeyed. You gasped as you forced your hips to pull out maddeningly slowly, until the flushed tip of your sensitive cock nearly slipped out. With the slightest tug at your chain, you thrust just as slowly back inside. "Good boy."

Astarion smirked at the visible reaction his words had on you. The chill that chased goosebumps down your body, the swallow to fight back your moans, the beautiful way your chest and stomach rose and fell with each hot breath. To say nothing about the feeling of your cock twitching within him, or the pitter-patter of your heart.

You were not dominant, that much had been clear to the vampire practically from the moment he laid eyes on you. Two hundred years gave one a sense for these things. He relished in fucking you face down into the dirt or settling your legs over his shoulders as he ruined you. But this? This was pure ecstasy. Being fucked by a pet who answered to his every command - now that was something.

"Are you close, pet?" he purred sweetly. You nodded with an acute franticness. He tugged at your chain, dragging your face closer, forcing your wet eyes on him as you keened so deliciously. "Use your words."

Like the pitiful whine of an injured dog, you cried, "Yes."

Even through your tears you could see the gears turning in his head as he decided whether to end your suffering or see just how much more you could fall apart. With a hum, he eased up on your chain, allowing you to sit back up on your knees. "Go ahead then. Cum for me, my dear."

He groaned as you set a frenzied pace. Fast, deep thrusts that tuned him into his own body, making him realize how much your own punishments and obeying had affected him.

You panted as you chased your high. It was right there, within reach. You could feel it coming up on you like a runaway carriage. You fought through the building euphoria to look at your lover. His head was tilted back into the pillow, mouth open and eyes shut as he lost himself to your own desperation. His cock lay heavy on his stomach, bouncing with each thrust and glistening as precum dripped onto his pale skin.

But the most maddening thing of all, the sight that sent you careening over the edge, was watching your dick fuck into him. You cock disappearing into his asshole as it clenched around you, pushing so fucking deep inside. Your breath caught in your throat, your thrusts became short. With his name on your lips, you buried yourself as deep as you could and released. Your cock twitched and strained as you spilled hot strings of cum inside Astarion.

He bit his lip, back arching. When you pulled your soft cock out of him, still dribbling cum, he growled quietly with frustration. He had not found his release. No matter - he was no stranger to finish himself off later. He would just-

"Ah~!" His eyes shoot open and nearly roll back in his skull as he watches you suck at the head of his dick. Your eyes are closed. Your hand guides him to your mouth, squeezing and stroking him in small, slow motions.

He props himself up on one hand, the one holding the chain, and tangles the other in your hair. "Good boy," he mutters, far too focused on your tongue licking at his slit to try sounding in any way dignified.

You bob your head, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly work more and more of him into your mouth. Your teeth graze his skin, like a silent threat. He wonders for a brief second if that is how you feel when he bites you; the trust that he will not drain you dry with the thrill that he could nonetheless.

"Fuck," he breathes sharply as his tip prods the back of your throat. He grips tighter at your hair, holding you in place, your nose pressing against his abdomen. He can feel the shaky breaths you take, struggling around his cock.

He lifts your head back up, almost pulling you off. Even now, you are so obedient. All the power is in his hands. It's addicting.

As you suck languidly at the head of his cock, you open your eyes to look up at him. Your pupils are dilated, lids drooped ever so slightly. Drool slips from the corner of your mouth, down your chin. Your cheeks shimmer with nearly-dried tears.

"So beautiful." He sighs as he guides you back down on him, groaning as you swallow around him. "Fuck. Such a good pet."

Your eyes shut again as you allowed yourself to be fully controlled. It started out rather slow, never pushing too far. All too quickly, it devolved while he chased his release.

He could not guide your head fast enough. With a string of curses you couldn't understand, he fell back onto the bed and grabbed your head with both hands. He held you steady as he thrust up, cock rutting against the back of your throat. You gagged and fought to breathe through your nose, but you did not stop him. More tears pooled in your eyes as your lungs ached.

With a few final, harsh thrusts and the sweet whisper of your name, hot cum filled your mouth. You clutched at the bed as you struggled to swallow it all. You aren't sure if he noticed your struggle, or if he'd only done it for his sake, but he pulled you off of him before he was fully finished, spilling the last of his seed on his stomach.

You breathed greedily through your nose as you swallowed the last of his cum, opening up your mouth and showing off the flat of your tongue to prove it.

His cool hands gently released your hair and worked instead to brush the tears and spit off your face. You tiredly leaned into the touch, welcoming every soft caress.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, worriedly.

You nodded slightly. Your throat ached, your hair stung where he'd pulled on it, your body was exhausted, but you were no worse for wear. You cleared your throat with a wince and murmured, "Just gotta breathe."

He brushed his thumbs over your eyelashes. "I'll try not to get so carried away next time.” He tsked. “You mortals are so fragile."

You smiled and finally opened your eyes. He grinned. Your body complained as you sat yourself back up, shivering as the cold chain brushed your skin. Astarion followed you up and worked quickly and efficiently to remove the leather collar. He set it aside in favor of brushing his lips over the raw skin.

"You did so well," he hummed. Your head fell to the side automatically, allowing him more access. As tempting as it was, you were drained enough without him taking a sip. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your jaw and pulled away. "Come on, dear. Let's get you cleaned up."

---

Tag List:

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#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x male tav #astarion x male reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #male reader #x reader #x male reader #smut

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daisynik7 · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Alucard x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

cw: vampires, blood, periods, smut – cunnilingus during a period, vaginal sex (doggy), creampie

Author’s Note: I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, thanks for all those who encouraged me by saying they'd read this hehe. Enjoy! Divider by @/ohmarigold!

It’s been a little less than a month since you waltzed into the desolate castle nearly ten miles from your hometown. You’ve heard the rumors about it through whispers on the streets and drunken confessions at the bar. It’s Dracula’s estate, the bearer of demons and disaster, though he has since perished. It’s been told that the deed was done at the hands of his own son, Adrian Tepes, better known as Alucard. Surely, you had to check this out for yourself to see if the legend stands true.

What you didn’t predict was falling for the allusive charm of the son of Dracula. That you’d be living here as a permanent resident and take the role as Alucard’s forever human plaything. And that you love it. You love him. In the span of a few short weeks, you’ve completely abandoned your mundane life to share your exciting future with this dhampir. It really is something out of legends.

Tonight, you lie in bed with him, snuggled close to his body. His breath tickles you, his fangs barely grazing skin as he presses delicate kisses along your neck. You giggle, running your hand through his silky hair, tugging him back to kiss him on the mouth. “Adrian,” you whisper, sucking on his bottom lip.

His fingers are nimble on your thighs, inching their way closer and closer to your arousal until you grab at his wrist, stopping him. He looks at you, confused. “What is it, darling?”

Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, turning your head the other direction to avoid his brilliant gaze on you. “I’m bleeding,” you answer meekly.

“Bleeding?”

You nod, confirming it, still too shy to look him in the eyes. He contemplates for a few seconds, understanding what you’re trying to say to him. Then, he laughs softly, giving you a delicate smooch on the cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. You think that’s going to stop me?” He nuzzles your ear, voice low and sultry. “I’m even hungrier for it now.”

Your cheeks burn, simultaneously flustered and aroused as he quickly positions himself between your legs, his golden eyes burning into yours, full of lust and desire. He tugs at your undergarments, already a dark spot of crimson leaking through it. Without hesitation, he sticks his tongue out, lapping at it for a taste before puckering his lips to suck on the damp fabric. He hums, delighting in the taste of you, of your blood. The mere thought of it makes you dizzy but seeing him smirk at you with your ruined panties between his lips has you aching. “Touch me, Adrian,” you beg, voice trembling.

He pulls your underwear down your legs, breath warm on your loins as he speaks. “Touch you how, sweetheart?” He knows exactly what you want, but he’s going to torment you just a bit for almost denying him this pleasure. “Like this?” He licks a stripe on your clit, causing you to squirm from the sudden contact.

“Yes, Adrian, fuck!” you cry out, your shout echoing from the high ceilings of his bedroom.

“You want me to taste you, is that right?” he taunts, giving you another stroke of his tongue, this time slower and more deliberate.

You nod frantically, clutching the sheets beneath you. He smiles, kissing the plush of your thigh, relenting his cruel teasing. “Of course, my love. I’ll give you whatever it is that you want.” He slides down, his mouth at your wet cunt, glistening with fresh blood and arousal. He licks his lips, ready to indulge in this fine meal you’ve laid before him.

His thumb rests on your throbbing clit, massaging deep circles into it while he laps at your slit, consuming every single drop of you. Soon, his lips are smeared rouge, his fangs stained red, his pristine skin blushing scarlet, completely enthralled in devouring you. He bucks his hips against the bed, desperate for friction on his hardening cock. A guttural moan emits from his throat as he fucks you into an orgasm with his tongue and fingers, eager to drink all of your juices up.

“You taste divine,” he purrs. “May I keep going?”

And who are you to deny a vampire of their deepest desires? You give him a weak nod, spreading your legs wider, body already quivering from ecstasy. He pleasures you into three more orgasms until your brain is mush and your limbs are limp against the sheets. Finally, he finishes inside you, taking you from behind, fucking his seed deep into your womb. He watches with a wanton gaze as he pulls out, cock dripping with your combined mess.

Alucard really is a legend, and you’re more than happy to have found that out for yourself.

#alucard castlevania #alucard x reader #alucard smut #alucard x you #adrian tepes #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes x you #adrian tepes smut #castlevania netflix #castlevania smut #cw periods #tw periods

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azsazz · 8 months

Text

Bleed for Me

Vampire!Azriel x Reader

Summary: for @hyemishii “I love it !! Maybe a next part with overprotecting Az at the meeting ??”

Warnings: blood

Word Count: will fill in later I wrote this on notes lmao

Notes: a lil vamp az is the perf bday treat, also not edited cuz I wrote this at work 😳

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“Hello there,” a soft voice greets.

You flinch, your nearly empty wine glass slipping from your fingers. You and the male who’s snuck up on you watch as the glass shatters on the ground, the dark red of the wine splashing against the bright stone floors like blood.

The room goes silent, and you’re entirely sure that the only sound in the room right now is the frantic pounding of your heart.

Glancing at the male, you take in his auburn hair, unruly and hanging slightly in his eyes in a way that looks so well practiced. His skin is pale, paler than most of the vampires in this room, making his freckles stand out across his strong cheekbones. It looks a little too closely like the wine splattered on the floor, and he takes you in with a hungry gaze, iris’ so burnt they almost look red.

“I—um, I’m so sorry,” you stutter. You don’t like the way that he’s staring down at you, tracing the lines of your body and pausing intently at the necklace of Azriel’s blood around your neck. He smirks and it makes your heart drop. “Let me…”

You trail off, sinking down to clean up the mess you’ve made. The male is wearing fine shoes, pristine and you want to hide, heat burning your cheeks because you see the flecks of wine on the caramel leather, and on the deep navy cuffs of his pants. You peek up around the room, grabbing blindly at chunks of glass as you search for Azriel.

You told him you’d be okay—demanded it really—while he went to speak to Rhysand and Cassian about some important manner. He’d wanted to take you with, but you refused. You don’t need his protection, you don’t want it. You thought it would be the perfect chance to escape, but now you just feel like a deer surrounded by bloodthirsty wolves.

Pain flashes through your finger and you hiss, jerking your attention back to the broken glass on the floor. You’ve nicked your finger, and a bead of red pools at the tip, your mouth parting in a curse as your body and all of the others in the room straighten and zero in on your wound, undoubtedly smelling the faint metallic that you can’t.

You shoot to your feet, searching the room for Azriel. He’s not here, you know it. You’d recognize the wings, the malicious aura that’s been pooling off of him since you were met at the door and he’d jokingly not been invited inside. You curse, wishing he were he now.

“Hurt yourself, did you?” The male asks, head cocked to the side. You catch the slight flare of his nostrils as he breathes in the scent of your blood. His pupils are pinpoints and his smile scares you. Taking a step back he’s already there, catching your wrist in his cold hands and bringing your hand up to his face, studying the wound. “Clumsy, little fawn.”

“Stop,” you plead., trying to pull your hand from his but it’s no use, you’re nowhere near strong enough. He brings you in, flicking his tongue against the crimson coating your finger and hums with pleasure.

“So sweet,” he answers, wicked grin flashing sharp fangs. “Has Azriel gotten a taste yet?”

You open your mouth to speak, to scream, but you flinch at the figure that appears over your shoulder, a dark mass that commands the attention of the room, even if he’s only a warrior and holds no power over courts.

“Yes, he has,” Azriel growls, a lie. “Unhand her. Now, Eris. Before you lose yours.”

Eris’ smirk widens for a moment, a tease, but he releases you and you fall back into Azriel’s chest. He tucks you into his arms and you hide your bleeding finger in the thick fabric of your skirts, feeling embarrassed and exposed in a room full of vampires.

“Azriel,” the male greets, smile turning salacious, “Don’t want to share like we did all those years ago?” The question makes your stomach twist, but you shove the feeling away. You don’t feel anything for the male who stills against your back.

He flashes his fangs at Eris, a warning. He won’t let anyone else touch you, that you know, but you can’t help but to think that there was a time when he’s let others play with his human companions. You’re not sure how to feel about the information, but you keep quiet.

Two more males flank his sides, and you recognize Cassian and Rhysand, the Night Court trio at your flanks. You belong to Azriel, to them, to their court. There is no doubt about that.

“We’re leaving,” is all Azriel says, before he’s taking your arm in his and guiding you through the crowd, glaring at every male who you cross paths with. His grip is firm on your arm and you wince, but you can feel the anger radiating off of him and keep it to yourself.

But, always attuned to you, he catches your flinch and lightens his grip on you, eyes going soft as you look over your shoulder at him but harsh again when Helion smirks your direction. He growls at the elder vampire, not giving a single fuck if it makes them enemies. You are his.

***

“You bled for him,” Azriel states. His attention is focused on the cut on your finger. It’s not deep and it’s already stopped bleeding, but he’s made it his mission to clean and wrap it for you, the image of your finger in Eris’ mouth burning behind his eyelids.

“I didn’t mean to,” you answer softly, because you don’t know how he’s going to react. Azriel is a ticking time bomb of anger and hatred, crazed and possessive, and you don’t know why. He could explode on you at any moment, even though you were trying your best to pull away from Eris at the party.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he answers gruffly, refusing to meet your gaze. He stands, placing your wrapped hand back in your lap as he turns to leave the room. He can’t look at you right now. His hands are nearly shaking with anger. He hasn’t even tasted you yet, and Eris took that moment from him.

You shove off of the counter, following him into your room. “I didn’t do it on purpose!”

And he knows this, he does, but he doesn’t care.

“Doesn’t matter,” he hisses, charging for the door. He needs to fly it off or something, he can’t be around you right now.

Apparently, it does matter.

“Azriel, please,” you scoff, “It’s not a big deal, it was an accident.”

He spins on his heel and is on you before you can gasp. His body is a freight train against yours, grabbing your hands in one hand and locking you to his front. He hopes you realize right now that this is what could’ve happened to you at the party. Eris could’ve grabbed you and taken you and you wouldn’t have been able to do a fucking thing about it because you’re weak. Just a human. He wants to yell, hiss at you for being so careless in a room full of vampires. He wants to scream because he put you in that position, and he hates himself for it.

“When you bleed,” Azriel growls in your ear, tracing his fingers across your neck with his free hand. His blood has long since dried there and it flakes off under his tender touch. He leans in, his lips a whisper across the pulse in your neck that’s pounding so damn fast you almost don’t hear his next words. “You bleed for me.”

You gasp, his fangs scratching your skin. He holds you tightly to his body and you can feel the blood bubbling up from the shallow cut he’s given you. You squeeze your eyes shut tight as his tongue lathes across the wound, hot and demanding, owning. You bite your lip, holding in the moan at the feeling of him humming against your skin, tasting you, but you let your body melt into his front, the vampire holding you up with ease.

It’s like he’s set fire to your body, his touch blazing under your skin. You pant, lifting your chin to look up at him through thick lashes.

He’s already looking at you, staring down at you in a way that makes you feel naked. Warmth buzzes between your legs.

You open your mouth but he’s shoving you gently away, and you stumble before righting yourself, hands planted on the soft comforter of your bed.

“Az…” you turn your head to speak but your room is empty, Azriel gone.

#azsazz #acotar #acowar #acomaf #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #vampire!azriel

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heartfullofleeches · 2 months

Text

Happy Birthday, C.C!

(And a happy belated Valentine's day. One holiday is a bit more important to me than the other. Gotta celebrate my favorite incubus's day or he may cut me. Reader is brief mentioned to be wearing lingerie, but there really isn't anything that suggestive in this fic- Enjoy!)

When asked what he wanted for his birthday, C.C gave the same answer nearly every year.

"Why would I want anything when I already have everything I need?.... A new pair of shoes would be nice, but I'm really not that picky about what I get."

A successful career, the funds to purchase whatever trivial possession he desired. If he hadn't found fame and fortune early on in his life on earth, C.C would have been more than happy to mooch off of the desperate, lonely humans who'd do give him just about anything for a crumble of his attention. A short while ago, the only presents that mattered were what he received from the select few in his family he deemed worth the title, but something that has changed recently - another person entering his life who he puts on the same pedestal as the blood he holds dear if not higher.

If there was one thing C.C didn't want for his birthday - it was waking up in an empty bed all by himself.

Reaching an arm over your side of the bed, the drowsy demon is rudely dragged from his sleep as he finds no one there next to him. It's funny to think that a year prior he would have had no problem with this. Now, his heart sinks every time there's no one at his side. You're cruel for making him so dependent on you like this - and not being beside him on his big day.

C.C grumbles something under his breath - stumbling out of bed, making a grab for his phone on the nightstand as he exits the room. The second he turns it on, he's bombarded with hundreds of birthday wishes from friends and fans across several social media accounts. C.C swipes them all away, only bother to read any of the notifications in case he misses a message from you saying you're out. Why you'd leave without him is beyond him, but it was the best his groggy mind could come up with. Turning the corner that leads to the living room, a sea of curses sound from the kitchen muffled by running water.

"Shit, shit, shit- Fuck, why won't it come off?!"

C.C would recognize that voice anywhere. He scurries into the kitchen - biting back a laugh at your unfortunate state of appearance. There you stood over the sink, frantically scrubbing at your palms with a sponge. It was all over your hands, the robe you wore, even your face - pink stains that stubbornly refused to come out no matter how hard you tried. On the counter behind you was a bowl filled with a pinkish mixture - a bottle of red food dye still mixing its top and covered in red fingerprints seating beside it. C.C creeps over while you're distracted and sticks his fingers in the batter.

It's pancake mix.

"Mmm... I think all that dye is supposed to be in the bowl, babe."

Startled by the voice behind you, the sponge hits the bottom of the sink with a wet splat as you look behind you - hands quick at fixing your robes over scantily dressed body. "C.C? You're awake?! You're usually not up til noon - I thought I had more time.... Happy Birthday!"

The more attempt to hide it, the more C.C notices parts of your skimpy attire beneath the robe he had got you on your own special day. C.C loved to see you in his favorite color, but the bright pink fabric lessened the nearly see through aspect of your underwear and top in this lighting. The stockings you wore made up for it well enough - another accessories he loved to see on you that he made sure to voice many times before.

C.C gathers some of the paper towels on the counter. "Well I see you were at least trying to make breakfast - or get readying for Halloween a few months in advance. Sexy vampire is always a nice look."

"The seal just wouldn't come off and when it finally did it spilled all over me... I'm sorry for messing breakfast."

"Hush." C.C pulls you in close, wetness bleeding through his shirt as he embraces you, but he doesn't seem to mind. "We still have everything we need. I'll help you finish up and then we can take a shower together and spend the day in bed. You didn't put that outfit on just for show, did you?~"

"No, it was actually meant to be your Valentine's gift but.... I still haven't gotten your birthday present yet. I was going to take you to the mall and let you decide since there's so many things you like..."

C.C holds you tighter - grinning from ear to ear as he looks over your shoulder at all you've done for him. 'Don't worry.... I have everything I want right here."

#C.C my oc #yandere incubus #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere fluff

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fandoms--fluff · 9 months

Note

Hey I love your right is so I don’t have words to describe but I now yo have a lot of hope baby sister but they adorable that I have to ask if you could do one we’re she is only 5 months and only what to be with Hayley and Klaus and Hope but if any of the others pick her up she starts to cry or get cranki

Favoritism

Baby female Mikaelson reader x Hope mikaelson (+family)

Warnings: None, just whole bunch of fluff

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Klaus bounces you in his arms while he walks into the courtyard of the abaittoir. Your rested against his chest with one arm wrapped around you and his other hand resting on the back of your head.

You move your gaze to everyone sat in the room. Hope is sitting beside Elijah on the couch, Freya is in an armchair, and Kol is in the other armchair.

Klaus civily greets his siblings and Hope, grunting when his phone starts to ring in his pocket. Taking his hand off your head, he pulls the phone out of his pocket. Marcel's ID contact shows on the screen. Sighing, Klaus answers the call.

He turns back around to face the four others, "I have to leave, seems Marcel has gotten into a bit of a dilemma" Klaus tells, not going into any detail. Everyone nods, Rebekah deciding to tag along with her older brother.

Klaus swiftly passes you to Kol since he was the closest to his younger brother.

After your dad leaves, Kol and you are just staring at eachother from where you're secured in his arms. "What?" Kol asks you (not expecting an answer), noticing how your gaze is not shifting off of his face.

You start squirming in your uncle's hold, wanting to get out. Before long, the squirming turns into tears running down your tiny cheeks.

Kol's eyes widen, not knowing what to do. He's never had any experience with this. Like at all. He was surprised when Klaus passed you to him in the first place.

Soon the tears turn into full on crying. Panicking further, Kol's eyes widened more than before and brings you against his chest to try and rock you like he's seen Hayley and Klaus do a bunch of times. It's doesn't help at all, at anything, it only makes you more worked up than you previously were.

He looks frantically over to his older siblings, "help!" Kol exclaims as he sees that they were just sitting there, staring, while he's now trying not to cry along with you.

Elijah stands from the couch and walks over. He bends down and picks you up out of Kol’s arms and into his own. Bouncing you in his arms and using the same techniques he's used with all his younger siblings and Hope when they were younger doesn't work. It only seems to have made you even more cranky than you were before.

Seeing the panicked face on her uncle's face, Hope stands up. She has a smidge of an idea about what's happening, but wanted to see how long it take her original vampire uncles or aunt to break because of a baby. Taking pity on them, and you, hearing how your cries and breathing have gotten more erratic, if she doesn't step in now, you might catch a cold, she stands up from the couch.

Hope walks over to her uncle and convinces him to pass you over to her. Sighing, he does, worries about you and doesn't want to put any stress on the teenager. Especially after what had happened when Hayley had almost died from Greta and how her son has used his niece.

When she cradles you in her arms, you immediately calm down, knowing it's your big sister. You nuzzle your face into her neck, her soft hair brushing against your cheek.

She walks back over to the couch and sits down. Her arms are wrapped tightly around you, making sure that there's no way you can get hurt. As she leans back into the comfy position she was in earlier, she feels eyes on her.

Looking around the room, her uncles and aunt are staring at her, mouths slightly agape, and eyes widened ever so much. "What?" She asks, knowing full well why they're staring.

"Did you use a spell to calm y/n down?" Elijah asks calm and collectively, unlike how Kol would be responded of he had the chance first. "No, but I've noticed how she's been only wanted to be held by mom, dad, or me. So I wanted to see what would happen if none of us were and how long it would last before I had to hold her" she explains as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Definitely no clear favoritism there" Kol scruches his eyes in mock anger and slight offense at you snuggled up with your big sister. Freya chuckles at her little brother's 'hurt feelings' about their five month old baby niece choosing wanting to be with her sister.

Hope just smirks at him, "I don't know what your talking about" she kisses the top of your head gently.

"What's going on in here?" Hayley's brow quirks up, she just got out of the shower. Telling by her still damp hair.

"Well your baby clearly has favorites" Kol says, flopping back into the couch with his arms crossed and a pout on his face. "I'm starting to wonder who the actual child here is, you or her" Hayley smirks and sits down next to her two daughters.

"Wow, first the baby, then the teen, and now the mother" Kol groans about how he can get insulted by all three of them in under thirty minutes. And you can't even talk yet!

Everyone chuckles at the teen original vampire, including you, copying what you hear your big sister doing and now your mama.

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson x little sister #little mikaelson reader #hope mikaelson x baby sister reader #baby mikaelson reader #baby mikaelson #hope mikaelson x fem reader #hope mikaelson x female reader #fluff #cute #kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #freya mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson

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princessanonymous · 3 months

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When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

19. 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻’𝓼 𝓠𝓾𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰

"Where is she?!" Dorian's frantic voice echoed through the estate, his worry palpable.

As servants scurried in a hurried search, their footsteps resonating in sync with the ominous silence that enveloped the estate, Dorian's desperation escalated. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, and the once serene atmosphere now crackled with tension. Meanwhile, Killian leaned lazily against a wall, a stark contrast to the frantic pacing of the distressed father. His nonchalant demeanor, seemingly unaffected by the unfolding drama. He appeared to be more an observer of chaos than a participant in the search.

In a corner of the room, the coffin manufacturer sat in a plush chair, bewildered by the sudden panic that had gripped the once serene household. His eyes darted nervously from one end of the room to the other, as if expecting answers to manifest in the luxurious surroundings. The elegance of the room juxtaposed with the disarray of emotions, creating an atmosphere that seemed almost surreal for the mortal.

"She couldn't have left without anyone noticing," Dorian reasoned, his brow furrowed with concern. The frantic search continued, but the mansion offered no clues to the disappearance of his daughter. The air was thick with uncertainty, and the urgency of the situation hung palpably in the atmosphere. The blonde, casting a penetrating gaze at Killian, turned to the other vampire with an accusatory tone. "Why don't you do anything?"

"What is there to do?" Killian retorted haughtily. "She left. Accept it."

Anger flared within Dorian. "Accept it!?" he repeated with outrage. "My daughter is out there somewhere, alone with nobody to protect her !”

As the words lingered in his mind, Dorian's panic escalated. The memory of (Y/n)'s previous escape, when she had been attacked by a sanguini, intensified his resolve. He wouldn't let this happen once again. She was mortal, completely defenseless and weak.

"Walking around aimlessly will not help," Killian answered with a sigh. "You may live."

Dorion looked at him, bewildered by the command before realizing the second part had been aimed at the coffin-maker who was still in the room. He turned his gaze toward the mortal, a bewildered look in his eyes as he processed Killian's command. The man, caught off guard, hesitated for a moment before nodding in acknowledgment. Slowly, he made his way towards the exit, leaving the room as instructed by the enigmatic vampire. He had forgotten about him, his mind having focused on the girl.

Dorian's focus, however, quickly returned to the pressing matter at hand – the whereabouts of his daughter. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him, and he couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart. The thought of his daughter being out there, alone in an unforgiving world, sent shivers down his spine. The once grandiose room now seemed suffocating, its walls closing in as Dorian's mind raced with worry. He couldn't fathom what his daughter might be experiencing, and the very idea that she could be subjected to unforgivable things gnawed at him. His protective instincts kicked in, overshadowing everything else.

Some people would not think twice about taking advantage of young, impressionable minds like his weak, fragile (Y/n). She was so frail; she wouldn't survive on her own. She was utterly, completely, truly alone. The child was so naive thinking that any mortal would simply take her in hearing her plight, but they wouldn't.

He felt Killian's hand on his shoulder. "Sit," he advised him while leading him to an armrest. "Your power is affecting the room; calm down."

He looked around, noticing the ice covering the place where he had been standing just moments before. "She's out there," he protested, clenching his fists, "I just can't..."

"You must stay calm," his partner said with conviction, "servants are already looking for her."

Dorian's eyes flickered with a mixture of frustration and fear. Despite the efforts of the servants scouring the estate, the absence of tangible information only fueled his worry. Useless. They were all utterly useless. It was preposterous. She had left once, and now once again they managed to let her slip through them. They would pay. He would deal with them after after finding his child. He could feel the seconds ticking away, each one adding to the uncertainty surrounding his daughter's disappearance.

He shook his head and stood once again, resuming his pacing, "There are three paths she could have taken," he mused out loud." The first is the one she took during her first escapade which I doubt she would take again. She can be quite clever. The second is one more remote that leads to a nunnery, but I doubt she even knows of the existence of this path. She would have had to walk through the nearby forest for at least an out by foot to even notice it. She doesn't leave home. She knows she isn't allowed to... and yet here we are. The third one however... while long, leads to a village and if this foolish daughter of mine—"

"The carpet; you're freezing the carpet," Killian admonished while pinching the bridge of his nose. "(Y/n) is a resourceful young girl, Dorian."

He tried laughing, but it sounded wet and slightly hysterical. "Don't be ridiculous. She can't survive on her own! She's so—fragile, and helpless and she could break at any second and— and she's out there!" He gestured out the window. He collapsed on the couch, shaking his head. "And if something happens to her... if something happens to my poor child..."

Each day, she mattered so much more to him. More than she had when he had first met her on that clearing. She had made him care for her. He cared so much for her. He couldn’t just let her go. He wouldn’t forgive himself.

If something happened to (Y/n), Dorian knew it would completely shatter him.

Dorian looked up, his eyes teary and filled with a mix of frustration, fear, and desperation. Killian, sensing the need for comfort, passed an arm around Dorian's shoulders. The touch, though subtle, carried a warmth that overcame their cold exterior. The blond vampire reacted by resting his head on his lover's shoulder, finding solace in the physical closeness. Killian's presence, like an anchor in the storm of emotions, had a way of grounding Dorian back to the present when he felt himself spiraling into the abyss of worry and uncertainty.

"Dorian," Killian whispered, "calm down, just for a second. Breathe."

He nodded, chuckling slightly at the suggestion. He didn't need to breathe. "Such a human thing to do," he commented, feeling himself calm down slightly, slowly but surely.

Killian nodded, agreeing, "You know me." He sighed softly. "Why don't we focus on something else while the servants search?"

"Like what ?' He questioned reluctantly.

"Forget the girl for now, Dorian," he suggested calmly. The words were said with a soft, yet confident voice. "I'm sure she is fine."

The bland looked up in anger at the remark. His anger grew once his icy blue eyes met Dorian's bright red ones. A cold feeling washed over him, realizing the other had tried to use a moment of emotional vulnerability against him. Leaning forward and clenching his fists, he demanded, "What did you try to do?"

Killian looked away, giving him no answer. The blond gripped his lover's arm, his nails digging in his skin. The other only flinched slightly, almost imperceptibly, "What did you try to do?" He winced, but Dorian did not care. Fury roared through his mind.

He knew his partner's power very well. Knew that he hardly used it, but knew nonetheless the signs of it. "Did you try to make me forget about her?"

His silence was enough of an answer on its own. He felt betrayed and furious at the mere idea that Killian of all people would dare to use his mind control powers on him. He was about to explode with rage, unable to understand why he would try to use them for this. Dorian had seen Killian and (Y/n) interact together, he had witnessed the bond they shared grow. He couldn't understand why the man would simply decide to let it go. One shouldn't let go of the people they cared about so easily.

Wheels turned inside his head, and realization dawned upon him. He stood up and Killian followed suit. "It is you," he accused, pointing a finger. "You let her leave.”

While Killian neither confirmed nor denied it verbally, Dorian already knew the answer. In a surge of fury, he lunged at Killian, gripping the other's shirt threateningly as his mind spun. "Killian, you—"

"Sir," a servant entered the room, breaking the tension. "It appears she has left on horseback; one is missing."

Flashes of worst-case scenarios flooded Dorian's mind. (Y/n) could have had an accident, been attacked. The horse might have rebelled. (Y/n) didn’t know how to ride a horse; he had never taught her for that reason. So that she wouldn’t attempt anything stupid. She could be dead by now. Dead, alone, and rotting in the wilderness.

He clutched Killian's shirt with a vice-like grip, feeling wetness in his eyes and his throat tightening. "You can't—" he glowered. "You can't do this to me, Killian."

The other offered no response. His eyes were cold and held no regret. He might have left the poor child to die and he did not care. Dorian’s weak pleas were met with indifference. This was his child, his daughter. He couldn't let her be taken away from him. How dare he do this ? How could he ? "Tell me!" Dorian pleaded desperately. "Tell me where you told her to go !"

No answer.

No reaction.

Dorian's face fell, and he began to tremble. "You can't do this to me, Killian," he whispered weakly. "You can't..."

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fanonical · 23 days

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Jamie's Mildly Pretentious Uquiz Adventures - A Masterpost

what is haunting you? you have been asked to rid a place of the thing that has been haunting it. tell me how you prepare, and i will tell you what you find.

which faerie will guide you? You have been invited to a gathering of the Fae, to meet the being who will become your mentor. It is an invitation you have both dreaded and anticipated. Make choices along the path, and I will tell you who waits at the end.

what thing is hunting you? there is something following you. it is time to run. gather what you can, take what roads call to you. there is something following you, and it will not stop until it catches you.

prepare a spell and i will tell you what sort of witch you are lightning strikes outside your door - the witching hour is close at hand. power swirls inside your form, magic strong at your command. enchantments thicken in the air, spells of word and clay and steel. but what is the charm that you shall cast; to help or harm, to hex or heal?

survive a journey through the post-apocalypse and i will tell you who you are long ago, the world came to an end. but you are still here, surviving amid the ruins. and you have a job to do. the road is long and harsh. there is little comfort here. but you will see it through to the bitter end, and discover your role in this strange new world.

try and save the world from the end and i will tell you what kind of hero you are the signs of the end time are nigh. the people flee, frantic, from the destruction that is to come. but there is a hero, one who will emerge in the last gasps of a dying world, to journey beneath the earth and bring forth an artifact that might, the sages say, avert the end times. and that hero is you.

Prepare to meet a vampire, and I will tell you what you find October has dawned crisp and cold. 'Tis the season of the macabre, of the blood-tinged, and you have been waiting for it a long time. This year, you are going to surpass every past Halloween. This year, you are going to find a vampire…and ensure they turn you into one of their kindred.

Travel out to sea and I will tell you your role on a pirate ship The bright sun beats down on the glistening azure waves. All around you, the docks are alive with sound - seamen and stevedores shouting, timber and rope creaking and groaning, the distant screech of a fiddle. You are a pirate, heading to your ship for a day's work. But what kind of pirate are you?

Which god chooses you? The Hall of the Gods has many idols. As an acolyte, you have become familiar with each of their faces. Now, you prepare for your initiation. One of them will accept you as their successor. Perform the rites, survive the trials, call the Divine, and see who answers.

death is coming for you. how will you escape? the end comes for all of us. some accept it, lay down and fade away. some are eager to find out what lies beyond. and some will kick and scream with every last breath. you just have days remaining, but you have a plan. you're going to cheat death. one way or another. you're going to win.

Create a monster, and I will show you your reflection Night has fallen. Lightning crackles in the sky above. It is time for you to create an abomination. But what manner of horror will spring from your hands?

#uquiz #Posting this just to have something to link to

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 7 months

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Ok so now that I've spent some time thinking about the whole "Chuuya was never a vampire" twist, I... still don't like it. For many reasons.

Here's my explanation; if you want to read it, please do. I strive to be fair. I want to wait for the manga release before making a verdict on whether it's bad writing or not, and I also want to see the start of next arc to see where they're going with all this.

If you don't want to read it, and you're having fun with the twist (it is funny. I will admit that much), then skip this and keep having fun! I don't want to ruin anyone's enjoyment.

First of all. It makes no sense. There are things that just do not add up. There was never an indication this was a possibility.

Bro. Did you put on costume makeup for the texture under your eyes? Did it wash off after nearly getting drowned and you had to frantically reapply it behind Fyodor's back and that's why we couldn't see your face for several chapters. Did you take it off again for your dramatic reveal here at the end? I demand smeared undereye makeup Chuuya in the manga when it releases hbfsdjhbfv

Ok this was more a joke. But here's what really irks me.

From what I can recall, this is. True. He needs to have made contact to manipulate gravity. It's also re-established in this very arc.

Great. So how the fuck did he slow the elevator? He was with Fyodor in a separate room! This makes no sense. Did he leave to stop the elevator and Fyodor was like "oh chill. ok come back soon"??? What?!

Here's another thing I want to address:

@ticklinglady I had this same question. However, on thinking on it again, I do have an answer that makes sense - they had to buy time for Sigma to use his ability on Fyodor, to gain knowledge on him about what he knows, and what his ability is. <-I feel confident in saying this is going to be important later. Sigma will still have a role to play and we will find out more about Fyodor!

Alright. Moving on to the themes, and why this also doesn't work (at least for me).

The theme in this arc is very much to do with the contrast between trust vs control. This is Fyodor's failing when it came to Dazai, and it is established very early on as the major contrast between them, in the Sky Casino arc. The vampires, though it seemed silly and random, fit nicely into that theming. And the conclusion, where Dazai showed extreme faith in Sigma and the Agency members (and what an interesting contrast that is; to have someone show faith in ordinary humans when his foil is a man who has faith in god but not humanity), that fits into that theming also. Ok, so this was an extension of that right? Showing faith in Chuuya, as always.

Yeah, no. I want to direct your attention back to this here.

This line is the one that had everyone going "oh man skk is going to fuck you up for that". I made an entire analysis back when this chapter first came out about the themes that we saw, and Fyodor's utter devaluing of the effectiveness of people beyond just their skills and abilities (it's here, if you're curious). This is why I suspected that, since Dazai and Fyodor are intellectually matched, it would have to be Sigma and Chuuya to catch Fyodor off guard - because he only values what people can do, not who they are.

Well, we got a little with Sigma, before Fyodor took control of the situation again. (Rip buddy.) Sigma's tenacity and unwillingness to fall for Fyodor's manipulating him away from helping the Agency was based off his personal choice and free will. He managed to shoot him! Fyodor was reduced to a cheap trick to get close enough to stab him! There was a certain level of payoff.

But Chuuya? I want you to think for a second. What did he actually do? Not a single part of this was Chuuya's idea. It was Mori's - he was at the very least sent undercover under orders, if not sent to Meursault under orders. He didn't even glue his own fangs in apparently. Now let's go over what he did. Why was it so necessary that it be Chuuya there? Well, obviously because gravity manipulation was needed to slow the elevator and the bullet. Oh... hm. So. His ability. Was what was needed, huh?

But it was necessary for it to be Chuuya because of the bond between him and Dazai, right? Oh. Wait. So, Chuuya's personality and goals don't matter - only his ability to read Dazai.

This twist makes it so Chuuya as a person doesn't actually throw a wrench into Fyodor's plans at all. All that matters is that he is Mori's executive and Dazai's partner. I guess he was "utilized" after all. I thought, with his characterization in Fifteen and Stormbringer, that we were moving away from this characterization of Chuuya only by his bond with Dazai. Do you want to scream.

You might be saying, okay, but at the very least it showed the depths of Double Black's bond! ...did it? Not really, at least not to me. The only impressive part of any of this was Mori's preparedness. This was barely an skk plan. It was a Mori plan. Double Black placing their lives in each other's hands is a Tuesday for them. This is nothing we didn't already know. And truthfully, it goes nowhere near the level of sheer trust we saw in Dead Apple. Mori sent Chuuya in sure, but it was only after everything settled down that he realized that Mori suspected Dazai would need help. Before that point, it seemed everyone thought Dazai was dead except Chuuya. Chuuya chose to jump out of that plane. Chuuya chose to risk his life. It showcased his personality, his free agency, and the level of trust they had far, far better. And it was emotionally satisfying! Dazai was extremely grateful that his trust paid off! Chuuya was somewhat conscious during Corruption, enough to weaken his own punch and shout Dazai's name! Dazai prevented Chuuya from having his ability be separated from him by the fog! They are an unbeatable team... but they were still left exhausted, and had to rely only on each other. How does what happened in this latest episode compare to that in a way that makes me believe they've actually outmaneuvered Fyodor?

Listen. I'll take twists that don't really have a great build up if they further the themes or character development, or it just makes for good drama. There's an interesting pay off, at least, so I say "okay, okay. Could've been done better, but I'll let it slide for the intrigue." But here? Nothing. It was boring. Are you bored.

Anime watchers were probably more fine with it. Maybe it was a little disappointing, but oh well. But manga readers have been having this plot dragged out for years. A lot of said fans (including myself) were excited to see Chuuya become main series relevant and receive present day development - and it seemed like we were going to get that with the recent publication of not one, but two Chuuya backstory novels, and the drama of this arc pitting Dazai and Chuuya against each other. Instead, this did absolutely nothing of interest for his character. Why was he even here?

Which brings me to the last point, which is the characterization.

Going back and re-reading this entire arc now, it becomes one big stage performance. Ok, fine, it's a little funny. But now there's hardly anything of value to these interactions. The only ones that actually matter are Fyodor and Sigma, and Fyodor and Nikolai. All that buildup to drama between Double Black, to another incredible display of trust, to something shifting and changing from the status quo... all that build up, and nothing has changed for Chuuya, or for Double Black. The show of trust wasn't even that dramatic really. Are you bored still.

This also weakens Fyodor's character to me. Fyodor witnessed their incredible show of trust in Dead Apple. I assumed he was prepared for skk-typical bullshittery, you know, being a genius on par if not greater than Dazai. You're telling me he was so overconfident he completely missed that Chuuya wasn't a vampire? Really? Fyodor really had nothing in place that would verify whether the vampires were actually under control? He wasn't constantly checking for a plan? It really was just red eyes and fangs, and he thought that was fine? That's it? Ok.

Truthfully, I was kind of :| about several of the preceding twists in the Meursault arc, particularly the dagger Fyodor pulled out when he started acting to Sigma, and the door railing being preemptively crushed by Chuuya before the drowning started. The dagger was actually ornate in the manga, which raised several questions - it couldn't have come from a guard. It made me think there was more to that interaction than just Fyodor pretends to have a split personality and that there was actually something to that knife. Well, it was made to be a regular knife in the anime, so I guess theorizing across those lines are dashed.

What bothered me the most though was the crumpling of the rail to stop the door from completely closing. There was no indication of this in the manga. None. No one could've predicted that - because it's stupid. The water filled so fast it couldn't get out of the crack in the door, even though it was huge??? Dazai was in the control room - you're telling me that there was no security camera focused on the door??? You know, where you would position a security camera??? It was dumb to me, but I was willing to roll my eyes and move on because I was expecting a good payoff to all this, and well, it was funny.

But now, the whole arc is one extended joke skk were playing on Fyodor. And you're telling me that's how our major antagonist goes out? Our major antagonist of several arcs? Be for fucking real.

And depending on when Dazai figured it out, it may even cheapen earlier scenes. If he found out after the elevator slowed like people have been theorizing, I could accept that. That's fine. But I need people to recall: in the actual episode he states "it was all an act".

Is Dazai probably lying to save face? Sure. But as of this moment we actually have no evidence it wasn't an act from the beginning. Remember that Ango was communicating the whole time with Dazai. Remember that Mori was involved and helped Tanizaki and Kenji get to safety. It's entirely possible it was all premeditated.

One last suggestion: the plan name was "Good-bye" as suggested earlier. This means that even if Dazai didn't know from the beginning, he knew by the time of his speech to Chuuya as he was drowning.

This means that his whole scheme with Sigma was not an extremely dangerous, life-risking play on his part at all (@daz4i has gone to explain why this sacrificialism isn't good for a suicidal character, which I recommend reading, but nonetheless it was still notable characterization for Dazai). And what about this?

Even his own flashbacks and memories were, what? A lie? A performance? For whom? Not for Fyodor, that's for sure.

For us. The readers. For the people who are invested in these two and their dynamic. For the people who wanted development between them, because there are actually issues there that have not been resolved. People wanted Dazai to show real concern. Chuuya is still bitter, even if Dazai thinks everything is fine and the same since he left. There was a tease that we're going to get how Chuuya felt when Dazai left the Mafia at some point in the future. People were making angsty art and writing and getting really excited because all the prior interactions had appeared to be set up for the payoff of this drama.

We get an introduction in the dungeon. We reveal their partnership and fearsome reputation during the Lovecraft fight. They perform flawlessly in Dead Apple. Throughout all this, they need no communication. They read each other and respond in tandem, always... but there's still an underlying tension in the way they do not talk to each other. I, and many others, had thought the prison escape arc was the breaking point for some development, since their prior appearances were all meant to establish them as a team, and this arc dealt heavily with the breaking of established things.

But no. Deus ex skk is perfect. They have no issues or flaws. Do you want to scream again.

Anyways. I recognize I'm probably just very disappointed right now and by tomorrow, I probably won't care anymore and will just roll with it. I think I was extra disappointed because while I tempered my expectations for, say, Yosano and Kyouka's involvement (sigh...), I fully expected skk would be handled well, being the fandom faves and where the money is at, so I guess I took the disappointment that much harder.

However, I'm eager to see how the manga tackles the ending, and if we will get any extra cues or better pacing there that may make me not quite so bitter. If it's any consolation, I do think we'll be getting Chuuya focus at some point in a future arc, and while I do think Fyodor is dead, I doubt he will have stopped haunting the narrative. He'll be back in some capacity. I'm pretty certain he's still the mastermind.

And I'm curious about the next arc and what's happening there. Maybe some things will be revealed later that will help smooth out the flaws here.

#storyrambles #listen by tomorrow i'll probably be totally chill and whatever about it #i just needed to get this out #bsd #bsd season 5 #bsd spoilers #bsd negativity

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tumbleweed-run · 6 months

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Raw

Kinktober Day 29 Breathplay 98% Bloodweave

“You’re going to die one day, you know, both of you,” Astarion announces, sounding petulant.

Gale has long learned that tone is covering up other things, things the vampire isn’t ready to face.

“Yes,” he says in agreement instead of arguing. They, he and Tav, that is, will die one day, hopefully far into the future.

Astarion huffs and turns from the window, clearly annoyed with Gale’s answer. “And what am supposed to do then? Now that you’ve dragged me into,” he waves a hand around the room, “this.”

Tav stirs in her sleep but is otherwise undisturbed by them. Gale spares her a glance, hopeful she remains that way. It’s far too late to be having this conversation, but having it, they were.

“No one dragged you. You were invited,” he reminds the vampire.

Another huff. Those long-dead lungs are busy tonight. “It remains. What am I supposed to do then?”

“Live?” Gale suggests the obvious. He’s not sure what’s brought this on. Their mortality against Astarion’s immortality has never exactly been a secret.

Astarion seems to consider that suggestion but then shakes his head, whether to dismiss his thoughts as a whole or the suggestion itself, Gale isn’t sure.

“What if I can’t?” It’s said so quietly Gale might have believed he hadn’t really heard it at all, except the other man is facing him now, face uncharacteristically raw and expecting.

“Then you’ll join us,” he says simply.

Astarion is next to him now, arms crossed, looking angry. “You make it sound so easy,” he hisses, fangs bared.

Gale resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead, he gently closes his book and deposits it on the table beside the bed. “It is, to a point,” he agrees softly, “you have only two options at that point. Each of us does.”

Gale isn’t one to pretend about things like this. He knows that if he lost them both, his grave would also be dug. He’d been willing to die for Mystra but chose to live for Tav. He doesn’t think his life is without its own merits, but there is little hope his heart would continue to work if he’d lost them. Luckily, depending on how you viewed it, they were all far more likely to go out together, be it through some accident or adventure.

If he had to choose a premature death, that’s his choice.

Astarion seems almost able to read his mind as he asks his next question.

“What would you do?” his voice is back to soft, but he seems deflated now.

“If I lost you both?” Gale asks, but Astarion doesn’t answer. He’s standing so close to the bed that his thighs are touching it. He’s turned his face away from Gale. “I would follow.”

This proclamation doesn’t seem to please Astarion. His face pinches, and his arms cross again.

“I think,” Gale says, carefully reaching out to grab one of the vampire’s hands, pulling it towards him. “That if I lost one of you that I would survive, we,” he emphasizes this with a tug of Astarion’s hand, “would survive. It’s a hurt that we could shoulder together.”

Astarion’s eyes are guarded when he finally looks at Gale, but he takes it as a good sign when the other man doesn’t rip his hand away. He’s unnaturally still for some time, and Gale lets him think. Then, it’s in a sudden flurry of motion that Astarion climbs his way into Gale’s lap.

“Astarion,” Gale gasps out a warning, looking next to them to make sure that, in his haste, Astarion didn’t knee Tav in the face.

Astarion looks then, too, and when they find Tav still sleeping, he starts moving again. “She’ll forgive us,” he whispers before his mouth descends on Gale.

Gale grasps the vampire’s hips and holds on. There’s little else for him to do. Astarion is nearly frantic with the way he presses kisses against his face. His fangs aren’t minded, and Gale knows he’ll look like he got into a fight with a particularly feral cat come morning.

Astarion breaks away from him, only long enough to rip Gale’s shirt over his head. Then he’s back for his skin. He dives for Gale’s Netherese mark, back bent in a painful-looking fashion. When the vampire’s teeth break the skin there Gale knows it's on purpose. He hisses and jumps but otherwise allows Astarion his attack. He stays there focused until Gale is hesitant to look down, convinced his skin will be flayed open.

The relief of Astarion letting up from his attack is brief as his lips return to Gale’s. Gale makes an attempt to return the kisses, if they could be called that. He tries to soften Astarion’s movement, hands smoothing up the other man’s sides. Astarion will not be gentled tonight. Instead, he sits back abruptly, one hand flying up to bracket around Gale’s neck.

Instinctively, Gale reaches up to grasp at Astarion’s wrist, but his brain catches up before he shoves him away. The vampire is just holding his hand there, not actually putting any pressure. It’s a warning, and somehow, given his current state, it’s a request. He looks at Astarion, chest heaving as he waits for something. The scholarly part of Gale is curious if his regression back to human tendencies is related to all the emotions he can see swirling in Astarion’s eyes. He’s not about to ask, very much aware of their current position.

The part of Gale that is nothing better than any man is aware his cock is already so hard it hurts. He wants to reach down and feel if Astarion’s in the same way. He’s almost certain he is. Beneath the near-feral look on his face is a look Gale’s come to recognize. But again, he does nothing.

That must be Astarion’s cue because his fingers twitch as he gradually begins squeezing at the sides of Gale's throat. Gale allows it but keeps his hand on the vampire’s wrist. If this is how Astarion plans to kill him, no amount of shoving at him will help; Gale knows this. Yet he doesn’t move more than to relax his body against the pressure.

His ears have begun ringing when Astarion releases the pressure, though he keeps his hand ringed around Gale’s throat. Gale inhales deeply for a moment but barely has time before Astarion is kissing him again. At least this time, he manages to keep his fangs in his own mouth. Gale leans up to return the kiss but comes up short, the the hand around his neck refuses to move or allow him to.

It’s Astarion who moves, one hand working to open his trousers. Gale takes pity on him and helps. Together, they manage to undo them, and Astarion finally moves his hand as he somehow manages to shimmy his pants off. Either he wasn’t wearing underwear, or he took them off with the pants. Gale can feel his cool skin through the thin fabric of his own sleep pants.

The hand is back around his neck almost instantly, and Gale sighs. “Is this how it’s going to be tonight?” He asks.

His response is in the form of tightening fingers. They squeeze harder this time and hold well past when the ringing in his ears starts. Gale’s vision is beginning to fade around the edges when Astarion finally releases his grip. He’s much greedier this time when he sucks in air, his gasp audibly. The rush of blood as it returns to his brain leaves him feeling lightheaded and almost giddy. Astarion slides himself forward on Gale’s thighs until their cocks brush against one another. Gale gasps and rocks up into the sensation.

Almost as soon as his skin stops buzzing does Astarion begin again. Gale grabs at the vampire’s hips and holds. He’s at the same place when Astarion releases. This time, Gale’s hips roll up immediately. Astarion’s eyes rolling back is the first thing Gale can see as his vision clears. He roughly keeps grinding their cocks together. His hold on Astarion’s hips much tighter than usual. There is likely to be bruising in the morning, to match the still stinging marks on his own skin.

Gale’s the one who groans when Astarion pushes up onto his knees to create a gap between them. He quickly shoves Gale’s loose pants down until his cock springs free. Astarion looks at it for a moment with the same hungry look he often gives to strangers’ necks, and it makes Gale shiver.

He moves quickly and Gale’s hands on Astarion’s hips are the only reason he’s able to push back against him. “Stop,” he grinds out, “you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Good,” Astarion rolls his eyes and tries to slam his hips down once more.

Gale realizes he’s losing and barely manages the incantation for oil before Astarion manages to win. The other man curses as he realizes it’s not a total victory. The oil coating Gale’s cock eases some of the discomfort he’d hoped to cause as he slides down onto it. It’s not his best spellwork, but given the circumstances, Gale is proud of himself.

A little too proud, apparently, because Astarion’s hand flies back to his throat and squeezes immediately. This time, Gale leans into the pressure, locking his eyes with Astarion. Neither of them moves while Astarion chokes him, both of them frozen in this tableau. It’s only once he’s release that Gale thrusts up.

It’s enough to knock Astarion off balance, which is a testament to his current state of mind, and he collapses forward onto Gale’s chest. Gale hesitates only long enough to see if Astarion is going to tell him to stop. When he doesn’t protest, Gale grabs at his hips and begins fucking up into him. Astarion is almost limp against him and Gale thinks about pushing him back up, to check on him, when he feels the brush of fangs against his already battered neck.

He tilts his head in invitation.

Astarion wastes no time in biting him. Gale has to restrain his thrusts in favor of not accidentally ripping out his own throat. Instead, he settles into rolling his hips upward gently, allowing each movement to drag Astarion’s cocks where it’s trapped between them. The vampire swallows mouthfuls of Gale’s blood noisily.

It's gone on long enough, and Gale digs his thumb into the crease of Astarion’s hip. Astarion makes a startled noise and pulls back quickly. There was no grace or elegance to the way he was feeding, and there’s a smear of blood from his chin to his nose. Gale can feel a small trickle of blood going down his neck and onto the pillow beneath him. Astarion’s eyes zero in on it, and he raises his hand one more time and presses his fingers against the bite marks. Whether he’s trying to be helpful and stem the blood or just fascinated with the mess, Gale isn’t sure.

Gale doesn’t care.

He begins thrusting up into Astarion once more, no longer constrained by the risk to his own life. Astarion makes little noises, grunts that sound punched out of him, with each thrust. He keeps his fingers pressed against Gale’s neck.

“Why do you let me do this?” Astarion asks after a moment.

Gale groans, only a little frustrated, but when he properly looks at Astarion, he slows his movements. For the first time since the other man finally spoke tonight, his eyes are clear, and he no longer looks frenzied.

“You know why,” Gale tells him.

Astarion shakes his head, “no, I don’t.”

Gale sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. “Because I trust you,” he says truthfully once he reopens them.

Astarion’s eyes narrow on him. “Why?” He pushes.

They’re doing this tonight, Gale realizes. There’s no way to side-track the vampire so they can have this conversation at a more reasonable hour, in more reasonable states of mind.

“Because I love you,” he admits, feeling a little like he’s admitting defeat.

Astarion’s hand grips his neck roughly, harder than at any other point tonight. “Don’t,” he growls, there’s wetness growing at the corner of his eyes.

Gale can’t do this again, he realizes almost immediately. His neck is too bruised already, and this time it hurts, badly. Not to mention he’s lost not an insignificant amount of blood, and what little he has left is trapped painfully in his cock. His fingers move as this realization washes over him, three sharp taps against Astarion’s hip.

Astarion lets go immediately, hand flying back almost as if burned. Gale keeps his hold on him, in part for his own stability but also to keep him from fleeing. Astarion sits rigidly, looking at him.

“Do you want to stop?” It’s Gale who asks.

Astarion sags a little but shakes his head. Gale wants to continue, his arousal hasn’t flagged, but the gnawing in his gut prompts him to smooth a hand up Astarion’s back and ask again. “Do you want to stop?”

Astarion nods but refuses to look up at Gale again.

Gale easily maneuvers Astarion up off of his cock and frees a hand just long enough to pull his pants back up. Astarion allows himself to be pulled back against Gale’s chest and doesn’t argue when he wraps his arms around him. Gale realizes they’re both still covered in sweat, blood, and cum but right now they need this more. He’s tense for a moment, waiting to see if Astarion argues against this. When he doesn’t, Gale relaxes back against the pillows. He even manages to find a corner of the covers and pull it over them.

He finally spares a glance at Tav again and isn’t surprised to find she’s awake. She’s watching the two of them quietly, and when she sees Gale’s looking, she gives a short nod.

“I do love you,” Gale says to Astarion, who seems less rigid against him. “We love you,” he amends, looking down at Tav.

Astarion makes a noise like he’s winding up to argue, but Gale rubs his hands against the vampire’s back over the blanket as he continues. “It’s okay if you can’t hear that now, but it’ll be there when you’re ready.”

#bloodweave #bloodweave x tav #gale x astarion #kinktober 2023 #breathplay #it's like 98% bloodweave with mentions of tav #this is hopefully more of an explanation to some of you confusion about 'connect'#i actually wrote this first like a week ago #posting early so I can post on AO3 and then go freeze to death at soccer semifinals

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franticvampirereads · 4 months

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Hello! I hope you're well! What's your top 5 romances you read this year? 💖

Hi Cath!!! I’m doing really well, we’re still getting settled into our new house but it’s going really well. How are you? I hope you’re doing well too!

I’ve read so many great ones this year that it’s hard to choose just five. But these are the ones that stand out for me this year:

1. Psycho by Onley James

2. Cherry Picked by May Archer

3. Bite Me! By Fae Quin

4. Two-Man Team by Amy Aislin

5. Legends And Lattes by Travis Baldree

And a couple honorable mentions:

Charisma Check by Charlie Novak

Spoiler Alert by Olivia Dade

Shelter In Garnet Run by Roan Parrish

What were some of your favorites this year? 😊

#frantic vampire answers #the refuge of books #bookish asks #asks #books #reading #romance books #booklr #queer books #lgbtq+ books

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neighbourshouse · 7 months

Text

Quality Time (WWDITS)

Nadja x Female Reader

Summary: Nadja wants to know more about you. (Fluff)

Warnings: Mentions of nudity, insecurity.

Authors note: Hi Hi Hi this is my first ever fanfiction.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

5:30 PM; The vampires wouldn’t be up for a while as the sun was still out and not to set for another hour.

Guillermo gets up around the same time you do, not interacting with each other as you both find solace in the quiet you two only seem to get in the daytime. Usually, you are awake around 12:30, getting ready as you wish and cleaning the house up before the vampires rise for the night. However, today you let yourself sleep in a bit later. Last night ran too long and the house was tidy(ish).

You kept your room dark- if there was one thing you did have in common with the vampires, you enjoyed the night. The room lit with warm-toned lamps, you stood in front of your mirror in a t-shirt, underwear, and socks, looking at yourself.

You have never really liked your body, a constant insecurity mainly while living with individuals who were quite attractive. You were especially bugged by your appearance today, looking at the shape of your hips and the curves of your legs. The t-shirt you wore was purposely large enough to hide your torso and release emphasis on your breasts.

You watched yourself for a few minutes, eventually turning to put on jeans and a hoodie.

“Why do you look at yourself like that? Also, why is there fabric up your ass??” Nadja was sitting on your bed, watching you. She squinted her eyes as her gaze roamed all over your body.

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN SITTING THERE?” you yelled, rushing over to the end of your bed where your pants lay. You quickly pulled them on, frantically zipping them up. At least now you were fully dressed.

“are you going to answer my questions?” She stated.

“NO, I’m not gonna answer actually. why are you up?? you should still be asleep!”

“I awoke early and was bored. What do you expect me to do? Clean the house?” She smirked as if the cameras were there.

“You could have at least knocked”

“ok well, I didn’t and I’m here now.”

There was a pause. You looked at her, brows slightly furrowed. For once you could see slight concern glint across her eyes. It made your gaze soften. You shouldn’t be rude, she is your Mistress after all.

You threw on your hoodie and sat next to her on the bed.

“Sooo…what’s up?” You asked, a little more care in your voice.

As Nadja and Laszlo’s familiar, they only ever really ordered you around. However, both were oddly protective over you for some unknown reason, especially Nadja. She even was the one who insisted you have a proper bedroom; Unlike Guillermo who unfortunately got the space under the stairs.

Nadja and you were the only women in the house. It was hard for you, so you could only imagine how polarizing and alone it must be for her. You know, being a vampire and all on top.

I mean, to tell the truth, you really liked Nadja, like, really liked her- but you could never say anything. You found her beautiful and her oddness was something you could connect with. At the least, you wanted to be her friend but she always seemed to stray away from you or demand things in front of the others. So this interaction was a first.

“I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to talk to you?… I feel a little bad, you’ve been with us for a while now and- I’ve not even bothered to get to know you.” Her eyes shifted downwards into her lap. You squinted and began to inspect her from afar. What the fuck is going on?

“Are you ok? Should I wake the others and get help?”

“No no, I’m fine, like I said I just….”

She looked at you. Was that a bit of sadness?

“Nadja, do you want someone to talk to?” You smiled slightly, trying to get her to look at you.

Her head lifted and she began to smile back- this still seemed too genuine for Nadja.

“I think I do. I also didn’t realise- how sort of interesting you are? I’ve never been in here.” She flicked her eyes around the room, taking in the posters on your walls and the knick-knacks and books on your shelves.

“Thank you…” you trailed off not really knowing what to say next.

Her eyes met yours again.

“y/n, I really do want to know more about you.” You blushed at her words.

“well…what exactly do you want to know?” You said slowly, she began to smile again. Gosh her smile is so pretty. She is so pretty.

“Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? Who are your parents? What was your childhood like? what is your favourite colour? What is your darkest secret?-“ She began to ramble on with different questions, you grabbed her hand to make her stop for a moment. She froze, looking down at the contact. Scared, you retracted your arm quickly as she looked at you.

‘oh shit, you done fucked it-’ you thought.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ apologies started to spew out of you.

“No no! it’s ok! I’m just not- used to that kind of thing.” She looked focused as her brain processed what had just happened.

You felt unsure of what to do, so, you let yourself fall back onto your bed. She looked at you nervously, playing with her hands.

Finally, she laid down next to you, both staring at the ceiling on your backs.

Another moment of quiet.

“My Favourite colour is red.” You practically whispered, turning your head to look at her. She turned to you and smiled. Nadja seemed so excited yet calm in manner.

“So is mine.” Her grin was spread from ear to ear.

“Are you sure you really want to know about me?” The question seemed to dissipate into thin air as Nadja looked at you sternly.

“Of course I do.” She softened her gaze but her answer felt like an order.

With that, you began to tell her about where you were from and what life as a mortal has been like for you. You told her about your friends and the adventures you’ve been on and your family. Her sudden interest in your life made you feel good.

What felt like minutes was really 2 hours. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. The sun had long set, it now being 7:30 PM. Nadja lay on her stomach, kicking her feet like a schoolgirl.

“Oh shit- it’s 7:30 already?? Nadja I gotta get to my chores and start helping out-” You started to get up but she pushed you back down with a firm hand.

“Nonsense! I am your Mistress and I say tonight your job is to hang out with me.” She could tell you were slightly puzzled and shocked.

“Bubs it is okkkkkk. You are mine, I get to decide what you do.” Her words made your stomach flutter and your cheeks flush.

“Ok…but what about-“

“Nuh-uh, the others are fine. Like I said, your only task tonight is to be with me.”

A bit of thought and you couldn’t deny her, you smiled, Nadja had been waiting for that. She began to smile back as well.

The thought of talking further about yourself felt exhausting, and at this, you realised you didn’t know a whole lot about Nadja. Obviously, you knew she was a vampire from Antipaxos that was 500 years old, and that she had a husband (Laszlo) and enjoyed pleasure and killing. But what else?

“Nadja?…”

“Yes my darling angel.” She was so trained on you.

“I wanna know more about you.” She stopped kicking her feet. A mixture of disbelief and sorrow crossed her face. You were unsure if you should have said that.

“What- what do you mean?” She tilted her head.

“I mean like- what are your interests? Passions? Beliefs?” As much as you would like to know her answers, you didn’t want to upset Nadja.

She went quiet for a moment.

“No one has ever asked me that before.” She looked at you with wide, sad eyes. It kind of scared you.

“I mean- if you don’t want to tell me or have the others know or just like want to end the convo here thats-“

She now cut you off by grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it. It was your turn to freeze.

“I do want you to know. I just…I just feel like it’s been hundreds of years since anyone has bothered to ask…” Your heart ached. Bits of pain felt like it trickled from her hand to yours like blood down her sleeve.

“Well, I don’t understand why they wouldn’t. You are so interesting and intelligent and cool and prett-“ You stopped yourself. Nadja raised an eyebrow at you.

“No please, go on.” She smirked now grasping your hand a little tighter.

“No, it’s ok!” You squeaked, it hurt a bit but you didn’t mind. You were more scared of her knowing what you felt.

Nadja let go of your hand.

“Well…I guess I really haven’t told anyone mu-“

Just then there is a knock at the door.

“Nadja darling, I know you’re in there. I and the boys need help wi-“

“LASZLO FUCK OFF! I’m busy with y/n tonight so you’ll have to find HELP ELSEWHERE!”

You hear Laszlo sigh on the other side of the door. He knew not to fight her on this. Walking away he calls to the others, “Welp, we are royally fucked.”

You laugh which draws Nadja’s attention back to you. She grins again.

“Do you think we should go and help them?” you questioned.

“No, they’re fineeeee. Where were we…”

And with that, Nadja talked her heart away. And you absorbed every single word.

#nadja x reader #nadja of antipaxos #what we do in the shadows #laszlo cravensworth #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #colin robinson #nadja wwdits #nandor #guillermo #the guide #laszlo #nadja doll #nadja x y/n

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leighsartworks216 · 2 days

Text

I Was Hoping You'd Find Me Here

Harvey x gn!Farmer

Inspired by how Harvey goes from saying "I was hoping you wouldn't find me here" to "I was hoping you'd find me here" after marriage when you find him in the hedge maze. Y'all when I say I dropped everything out of nowhere, actual *hours* after getting that line, to write this, I mean it. Also not proofread bc as soon as I finished the sex-repulsion started rearing it's ugly head so if there're any typos lemme know lol

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, hand jobs, blow job mention, anxiety, embarrassment, blood mention, praise kink, slight dom/sub

Word Count: 1,863

Masterlist

AO3

"I was hoping you'd find me here." Bright blush illuminated Harvey's face even in the shadow of the looming hedges.

The farmer smirked. "Oh, were you?"

They pressed closer into his space, until the leaves behind his back were catching on the fabric of his green jacket, rustling with the disturbance of his weight. He nearly leapt out of his skin when their fingers curled around his belt loops, pulling him closer.

In the shadows of the moonlight, smirking like a cat staring down its prey, he could almost imagine them being a vampire. He gulped thinking about their teeth on his neck, biting down until they drew blood. And the hot press of their tongue lapping it up.

"What are you thinking about, darling?"

Their eyes glimmered like they knew exactly what he'd just been picturing in his mind. He felt warmth reach the tips of his ears and travel down his neck. He wasn't a stranger to intimacy, but he was all too aware of their location, and Maru just around the corner.

His spouse granted him the mercy of not having to answer as they slotted their lips over his, nipping at his lower lip. It only reignited the thoughts from before. He groaned softly, cupping their cheek and leaning into the kiss. They tasted like the breakfast he cooked for them that morning with their produce. Their skin was dusted with a fine layer of dirt, no doubt from tending to the fields before the end of the season. His thumb began brushing it away without thought, his other hand sliding up their arm to cradle their neck.

He gasped, eyes shooting wide open as the buckle of his belt loosened. The smirk from before was now a soft grin, sweet like their fresh maple syrup. “Do you want me to stop?” they whispered.

Everything in his mind said yes. They were in public for Yoba’s sake! Everyone in town was here. There was no telling when somebody could enter the maze and stumble upon them. People who were his patients, who knew him professionally, and the very few who knew him more personally.

He glanced over their shoulder.

They were in the dark… And everybody who wanted to do the maze was already in here, lost somewhere out of earshot… His only concern was Maru, but even she wouldn’t come this way unless she had reason to.

The farmer waited patiently, listening to his frantic heart as he made up his mind. Their hands were still, ready to finish undoing his belt, or to help readjust it back in place. If he asked, they’d grab his hand and drag them back home, back to bed in a mess of sloppy kisses and whispered praises.

“Harv?”

He blinked. With another anxious swallow to tamp down his fears, he kissed them again softly. “I want this,” he muttered against their lips. “I-I’ll try to be quiet.”

They kissed him back sweetly. “Good boy.”

The pet name immediately sent chills down his spine, emboldened by his belt being fully undone and his trousers being unbuttoned. It wasn’t long before their hand pushed into his pants and wrapped around his hardening cock. He keened as quietly as he could manage into their mouth. They happily swallowed up the sound with another kiss.

Their thumb stroked over his slit, spreading the beads of precum already leaking from him. He felt a bit silly, truth be told, like a teenager who snuck out to see his partner in the dead of night, hiding under school bleachers to make out. It made him feel young again. He could almost imagine himself when he was younger, head still set on becoming a pilot despite everything going against him, with a paramour of his own, on a secret, late-night outing.

Though, his secret paramour being his spouse, who chose them despite every other eligible bachelor and bachelorette who pined for their affections, made this even better than in his fantasies.

They pulled away to kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Can you be quiet for me, baby?”

He nodded before his mind even fully comprehended the question.

Their kisses trailed further along his jaw, nipping just under his jaw where any marks wouldn’t be so easily seen. (If he were shorter, anyway.) They languidly pumped his cock in their fist as they loosened his tie next, fluidly unbuttoning the first and second buttons with nimble fingers and pushing his collar aside. Wet, open-mouthed kisses decorated his clavicle. Their tongue dipped in the hollow of his throat, before sucking over his Adam’s apple. When he swallowed, they grinned against it.

He bit his lip to remind himself to be quiet, breathing heavy through his nose as they unbuttoned a few of the middle buttons in his dress shirt and pressed their hand to his stomach, sliding around to his sides.

He shivered again. Their hands were calloused from farming for almost two years straight, rough and yet so gentle with him.

They squeezed the base of his dick before pumping around the head a few times. He whimpered, clamping a hand over his mouth to stop any further sounds from slipping out. If he could, he’d be fully leaned up against the hedge, using it for support as they worked him with as much ease as they ran the farm. Unfortunately, to do so would be to fall into the branches shrouded in the mess of dark leaves.

They kissed back up to his ear, nibbling the lobe, teasing the flesh with one of their canines. He sighed shakily as the thought of vampirism shot to the forefront of his mind again.

“Where do you want to cum, baby?” They whispered against the helix of his ear. “In my hand?” They accentuated the words by dragging their middle finger along the underside of his cock, along the thick, sensitive vein. “Or my mouth?” They sucked his lobe into their mouth, swirling their tongue along it.

They were so close, they could hear and feel the effect they had on him. His heart was racing so fast and loud in his chest, he would have worried it was sounding like a drum throughout the whole town, calling everyone to their location, had he the mind for it. Instead, all he could think about was images of kissing them like a madman as he finished in their hand. Or the feeling of their hair in his hand as they swallowed around his cock, milking him until he was utterly spent. For as much as he would have loved seeing them on their knees before him, looking up at him, highlighted only by the moon in this dark alley of the maze, he feared it would completely destroy his ability to be quiet. Already, he was fighting to stay hushed, when all they’d done is touch and kiss him.

He pulled his hand from his mouth, shaking as he decided his answer. “H-Hand,” he breathed. “P-Please, honey, let me cum.”

They pushed their face into his hand to move it out of the way without having to stop feeling the hair on his chest or trailing down his stomach, or the soft fat on his sides. “I will, darling.” They kissed him long and sweet, but his mouth chased for more and more, passionate and needy as he cupped both their cheeks and pulled them closer, closer, closer.

He moaned and whimpered against their lips as they jerked him off faster. The sounds rumbled low in his throat, like a beast within him was being drawn out with their ministrations. They coaxed his mouth open with their tongue, the bitter taste of coffee mixing with their sweetness. The concerns about being silent slipped his mind entirely as he fast approached his orgasm. They diligently muffled his beautiful sounds, their own mind flooded with love and adoration for the man they chose to marry. Their wonderful, nerdy doctor.

His breath caught in his throat sharply. His hips bucked mindlessly as his cock twitched in their hand. They covered his tip with their palm, stroking just under the head with their thumb as they caught the hot strands of cum. As his dick softened, he sighed shakily against their mouth.

They pulled away first, making sure they got as much of his spend as they could before pulling their hand from his pants. Their hand left his shirt to cup his cheek. He smiled when he felt them trying to fix his mustache.

“Good?”

He nodded. “Really good,” he assured them. A new wave of blood rushed to his cheeks as he noticed their hand, awkwardly held and covered in semen. He removed himself from their hold to fish around his pockets for a packet of tissues. He pulled a couple out of the plastic and cleaned their hand, wrapping the soiled tissues in another protective layer of tissue. When he looked back up at their face, tucking the packet back into his pocket, they had a big, dopey smile on their face. “What?”

They laughed. “You, that’s what. I just didn’t expect you to have tissues.”

“I’m a doctor,” he offered as an explanation with an embarrassed chuckle.

“You’re adorable.” He began rooting around his pockets again. “Hand sanitizer?”

He must’ve been as red as a ripe tomato when he pulled out the small bottle of sanitizer. But they just chuckled and held out their hands, diligently rubbing it between each finger and down their wrists. As they did, he began putting himself back together. He rebuttoned his shirt, tucking it back into his pants to give the illusion that nothing happened. Then he zipped, buttoned, and buckled his trousers once more. His spouse finished cleaning their hands just in time to fix his tie, pressing a kiss to his chin when they finished.

“Ah, thank you, for that, by the way,” he stammered.

They adjusted his collar and smiled warmly at him. “Of course. It was my pleasure.” They grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the alley. “If you wanna wait out there, it shouldn’t take me long to get the golden pumpkin.”

He tugged on their hand, pulling them to a stop just before the entrance of the maze. His heart began racing again as he tried not to regret what he was about to say. “C-Can I go with you?”

“Are you sure?”

He looked down the path, toward where Maru meandered about, trying to gather her sense of direction. It was lit well enough… He tried to ignore the grabby hands peeking around the corner.

The farmer squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to, Harvey. I know you don’t like scary things.”

“I…” He took a deep breath, looking at them once more. “I want to. You make me want to be brave.”

They beamed up at him, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Okay, if you say so. Don’t let go of my hand, right?”

He held on a bit tighter. “Right.”

Together, they marched into the haunted hedge maze.

…

Harvey stuck around with Abigail until the farmer came back with the prize.

#fanfic #fanfiction #smut #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv harvey x reader #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley x farmer

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atrueneutral · 2 months

Note

"It was an insult to be ignored for so long!" Haarlep has so much cat energy. I can honestly picture them pushing (breakable) stuff off tables in retaliation for being ignored for too long while also making eye contact with Raphael the entire time.

"... and the infernal quill snapped." WHY IS THAT SO HOT?!?!?

"What was to happen if Raphael’s confrontation included an equally flustered, moaning, orgasming little mouse!" Now I really want to read a follow up piece following Raphael's perspective as he is torn between raging lust and just rage when he finds the little mouse desperate and moaning (maybe she even entreats Raphael for help idk - then Haarlep could be all, 'See? Don't say I never do anything for you, brat.').

[PART I] It was because of Korrilla’s constant reconnaissance that Raphael knew where his little mouse and her companions were hiding out and licking their wounds.

It was an encampment just outside of Rivington, and Raphael walked into it as if he owned the land and each little makeshift tent that was built upon it.

The vampire spawn was the first to notice his arrival.

“What the devil are you doing here?” His question, which had come out more with surprise than anger, caused other nearby members of the party to turn, look and see who the devil in question was.

Raphael’s eyes darted to count heads; everyone seemed to be accounted for, either standing beside their personal tent or waiting around for the late night dinner that was cooking over the fire.

Everyone was there - except for their mischievous wretch of a leader…

“I’d also like to know why you’re here, Raphael,” Mizora's pet said, stepping up with his hand on the hilt of his rapier.

The wizard was scrutinizing him from the fire as he stirred what smelled to be a stew of some kind, and Zariel’s rogue soldier was glaring at him from a distance.

He would ignore the rest.

“Where is she?” Raphael demanded of the vampire spawn; of them all, he had established a rapport with Astarion - established trust.

“She’s in her tent,” Astarion replied, staring at him sideways. “Said she wasn’t feeling well…”

“And which hovel is hers?”

Astarion took too long to decide what he wanted to say or do.

“I can deduce the answer on my own, but your assistance would make my visit shorter,” Raphael drawled.

“What do you want with Tav?” Mizora’s pet asked.

It was then that a stifled cry sounded out from elsewhere in the camp, and Raphael glanced at the vampire spawn with rage prickling under his skin.

“She’s ill, you say?” he inquired, knowing full well what ailed their leader. Then, to Mizora's pet, “I have business with her regarding the contract she signed, and I advise that you do not try to stop me from discussing matters with my client.”

With that, Raphael brushed past them and headed towards the source of the cry.

The tent was uniquely her; the exterior of the shelter was overflowing with a hodgepodge collection of stolen items ranging from useless to expensive. The lantern that would illuminate her area had been extinguished, and the canvas flap of the entrance was closed, but he could hear movement and strangled moans coming from inside.

She was not sleeping, or ill, and blood flowed to his cock.

Raphael was grateful most of her companions had, by now, gathered around the fire - likely to speculate what ‘business’ called him to their camp. To confirm his hunch, he could feel the gaze of a multitude of eyes at his back.

Raphael stepped to the tent’s entrance and ripped open the flap of his mouse’s tent without warning or care.

It was only a second, but the second was long enough for him to get a glimpse of her arched, spread legs and the fingers that pumped into her sex before her other hand slid out from underneath her tunic to frantically throw the blanket of her bedroll over herself.

The heady expression on her flushed features was quickly replaced with dawning recognition, and his mouse’s eyes widened.

The scent of her arousal permeated the tent, and a tent was rapidly being built in his breeches.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she whispered, startled by his unexpected appearance.

“What were you doing in my House?” Raphael challenged in return.

He inhaled her aroma as subtly (and deeply) as he could.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Raphael’s head tilted and his eyes bored into hers - doubting her ignorance when the repercussions of her tryst with his incubus were presently on display.

“Fine! I-” Her concession was interrupted when she bit her lip and choked down a moan. He could discern subtle movement underneath the blanket as her eyelids fluttered closed. “I was there… I wanted, ah - to see your House in person…”

“Are you fucking yourself as we speak?”

Her eyes opened and the sensuous look she gave him sent another wave of heat to his groin.

“No - that, mm, would be rude of me,” was his mouse’s brazen and breathless response.

Raphael entered the tent, flap closing behind him, and he tore the blanket away to find that his mouse was, unarguably, continuing to fuck herself while he was talking to her.

“What is the matter with you?” she shouted as quietly as she could while simultaneously pulling her glistening fingers out from her sex and clamping her legs closed. “And get out of my tent!”

“Oh, don’t stop on my account!” he retorted. “There’s no need for modesty when I could return to my House of Hope this very instant and look upon every inch of your body - it’s mine now.”

Her back arched as she was hit with what must have been a wave of pleasure. “Mm, well, I wouldn’t have - ah! Played around with Haarlep had I known this would happen - fuck!”

At this rate, he needed release just as much as she.

“Put your fingers back into your pretty little cunt,” he demanded, his voice becoming a lustful and low purr.

“No!” she exclaimed, indignant.

Vexing creature!

“You will do as I say, or I will go back out and tell your party the specifics of your situation - unless they already know?”

His mouse scowled. She slowly parted her legs and put her fingers back into her pretty-little-soaking-wet-cunt.

Raphael’s rage and reasoning for confronting her became consumed by lustful hunger; he was hypnotized - enraptured by the sight before him; his little mouse pleasuring herself with fingers that rhythmically disappeared into her, her body writhing and squirming with pert, hardened nipples that were visible through the thin material of her tunic, her face - the way her lips parted and the way her eyes stared into his with want…

“Mm, you’re still in my tent, Raphael…” she stated huskily.

Her scent overwhelmed his nostrils - his blood, already naturally hot, was on fire with desire.

His mouse bit back another cry as her slick fingers moved to the sensitive bud of her clit.

“My companions are going to talk…” Her eyes glanced at his crotch and traced the taut line that pushed against fabric. “Maybe a few of them will think we’re fucking.”

She was twisting him around her finger…

“Yes, I suppose they will,” he murmured as he watched her bite her lip and moan.

And he would let her.

“Do you want to fuck me, Raphael?”

His answer was automatic.

“Yes.”

She moaned again, as if his confirmation was something she had needed to hear.

“Since signing the contract, I’ve imagined you fucking me while you wear the Crown of Karsus on your head…”

A growl rumbled in his chest, and his fingers twitched while his cock yearned to ravage her.

Is that what she wanted? Did she want him to lose control? Did she want him to take her?

“Haarlep’s been teasing me for awhile,” his mouse said. “And I can’t seem to come by myself…”

His mouth was dry.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Little Mouse?”

“Yes,” was her automatic response. She looked delirious (delicious).

Raphael nearly came then and there.

Her fingers were back in her cunt.

“Beg me to fuck you, Little Mouse, and I may oblige.”

“Please, fuck me, Archdevil Supreme Raphael - end my agony.”

And he would! Nine Hells, the strength and willpower - the control it took to not throw himself upon her! But a change in setting was necessary. For all the times he envisioned this scenario, none of them included taking the object of his desire on her unwashed bedroll that lay in the dirt of her tent of stolen goods while her companions were lingering outside waiting for any excuse to attack.

“Get up,” he ordered huskily.

She frowned, blinking at him as she stilled her movements; her sex-addled mind did not comprehend his meaning.

“We are going to the Devil’s Den. Unless you would like me to take you in this hovel?” he asked sarcastically. “I’m sure it’s been a fantasy of your party's; to eat while hearing the bliss-filled, melodic sound of their leader coming undone by a devil.”

Realization lit up somewhere behind her eyes.

“No…”

“Come along, Little Mouse,” he said. His eyes lingered between her thighs before they traveled up her body to meet her needful gaze. “And I shall give you what you’ve long desired.”

What he’s long desired…

Not needing to be told twice, she stood on shaky legs whilst grabbing the breeches that had been cast aside and hastily put them on. She then found a piece of parchment from her pack, scribbled a note, and placed it upon her bedroll.

“I’ve let them know that you haven’t kidnapped me - that we’re…” In a single step, his mouse was before him. “‘Discussing business’ elsewhere...”

She snaked a hand around his neck and pulled his head down to meet hers.

They disappeared from the tent with a burst of fire and embers.

#off to the devil's den #yes there will be a part three #raphael x tav #raphael bg3 #bg3 #raphael x tav fanfiction #baldur’s gate 3 #answered #drabble

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justcallmefox89 · 3 months

Text

Eavesdropping

X'aa'nath starts to come out of his shell and Gale gets jealous.

“Whatcha starin’ at?”

“Ack!” Startled by Karlach’s voice so close to his ear Gale flails about, nearly falling face first into the campfire.

“Easy there!” Karlach catches the back of his tunic and easily hauls him back into a sitting position. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Gale mutters, waving off her apology. “I was distracted.”

“By what?” Karlach follows his line of sight, quickly answering her own question. “Oh! Are you spying on Soldier and Astarion? I want to spy too!”

“Shh!” Gale looks around frantically, making sure no one have overheard. “And I am not spying. I am… satiating my appetite for information.”

“Uh-huh.” The tiefling grins at him, unconvinced. “Curious about Astarion and X’aa’nath’s nightly little gossip sessions?”

Several days ago the group discovered that X’aa’nath is fluent in Elvish. Ever since this revelation he and Astarion have become even closer, sharing secret conversations and giggling at each other’s private jokes and comments.

On one hand, Gale is thrilled that the two most stand-offish members of their party have found a someone to trust and confide in. On the other, less charitable hand, he’s more than slightly aggrieved that X’aa’nath chose Astarion over him. Since the confrontation with Wyll nearly two weeks ago the sorcerer has been even more closed off, keeping close to Lae’zel and Astarion and trying his best to avoid Gale all together.

Gale shrugs in response to Karlach’s question, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Aren’t you?”

“Not as much as you,” she replies, smirking. “But if you really want to know… Hey, Shadowheart!”

The wizard glares at her as she excitedly waves the cleric over.

“Something the matter?” Shadowheart asks, settling down on the ground next to them.

“We’re spying on Astarion and X’aa’nath and we need your help.”

“We are not spying!” Gale insists. “We’re just… curious.”

The cleric gives him the same unimpressed look Karlach had earlier. “And why are you so curious, Gale?”

He flushes under the women’s inquiring gazes, toying with the earring in his left ear as he considers how to respond. His interest in the gith sorcerer has crossed over from purely academic to something entirely more… intimate. How many nights has he lain awake, alone in his tent, fantasizing about taking X’aa’nath in his arms and… Gale shakes away the thought, shifting and adjusting himself to make sure his growing desire isn’t obvious to the two sitting next to him.

“Never mind,” Shadowheart says, smirking at him knowingly. “I think I understand now.”

“So what are they saying?” Karlach urges impatiently, batting her eyelashes at Shadowheart.

“Hush, you,” the half-elf replies, fighting back a smile and blushing prettily.

Perhaps I’m not the only one harboring illicit feelings for a fellow party member.

Astarion’s throaty laughter draws Gale out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see the vampire smiling and shaking his head at something X’aa’nath has said, gently poking the younger man with a hairbrush before returning his attention to the gith’s waist-length hair. X’aa’nath smiles shyly, obviously pleased by Astarion’s reaction, and closes his eyes in pleasure as the rogue works the brush through his hair.

“By Ahghairon’s lost nose, now they’re brushing each other’s hair?” Gale groans in irritation, a flash of jealousy overtaking him.

“Come on, Shadowheart, put the man out of his misery,” Karlach says, glancing at him sympathetically. “What are they talking about?”

Shadowheart motions for them to be quiet, tilting her head to the side and straining to hear over the noises of the camp. She wrinkles her nose in concentration, frowning a bit as she catches a stray word or two. She eventually gives up, shrugging slightly.

“So?” Gale prods her, trying to rein in his impatience.

“They’re just talking about Rolan.”

“Rolan? The apprentice wizard, Rolan?” Karlach asks, grimacing as if she’s bitten into something sour.

Gale frowns in solidarity. His fellow wizard has a rather prickly personality, and hadn’t really endeared himself to the members of their group with his foul attitude.

“What are they saying about him?”

“Astarion is just teasing him. Apparently X’aa’nath spoke to Rolan alone today. And not to threaten him.”

The trio share a look. For X’aa’nath to voluntarily seek out an outsider for conversation is unheard of.

But why wouldn’t he? Rolan is young, obviously talented- judging by his apprenticeship with Lorroakan, and attractive.

Something sour churns in Gale’s stomach, and his earlier jealousy returns, flaring stronger than before. He stands, forcing a smile. “I think it’s time I turn in for the evening. Thank you Shadowheart, for indulging us in this little endeavor.

Karlach sighs, watching Gale’s retreating figure as he slips inside his tent. “Damn,” she murmurs sadly.

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