#off to the devil's den
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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Look I get Raphael is the literal devil but thats not gonna stop me from thinking his voice is hot
#prince's talk tag#i finally. FINALLY. made it to act 3#and i was lockpicking all the hotel rooms in the sharess caress#walked in on two woman about to fuck before one of them turned to a mind flayer#but then i saw a door at the end of the hall and it was open so i go in#and once i do i see a familiar face and the title pops in saying 'devil's den'#and i was excited bc I'd get to here his voice again and suspicious bc 'Raphael. what do you want this time'#the devil knows how to put on a show ill say that much#heard people in the lobby talking about him and his sex life#also also i got the funny sex scene with the male drow sex worker i laughed so hard#bc if you say you wanna do missionary with the lights off he's so into it#and his line delivery killed me#i had astarion in my party and the drows tried getting him to join so it'd be all 4 but he wasnt comfortable#im surprised they knew he was my partner what gave it away? was it the multiple bite marks on my neck and bloodless status?#or was the way he looks at me whenever i talk to people
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top ten bastards who refuse to leave me alone
#OOC.#[ JUST....#[ he's on the Head#[ <- keep finding the scraps of j.abra art and feeling incredibly normal ab it#[ i love. when a guy is silly. and has a license to kill#[ when the. cares for nobody but His people#[ pathological liar yet gullible#[ thinks ab hcs...... thinks ab him actually having had a younger sister he was seperated from bc of cipher pol....#[ thinks ab him having carefully curated his garden... 'wolf's den'.... mancave except it's all greenery to stave off the violent tendencie#[ thinks ab. cannibalistic thoughts / impulses / desires due to devil fruit#[ orz#[ i want.... to do more w/ him/this blog..........#[ man.#[ but also <3 i think more people should have cipher pol mu--- ragdolls
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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐭. 𝟏
It was meant to be just a movie night, a chance to catch up with your best friend after a long week, but Bucky had other ideas. The two of you had danced around the obvious for far too long, and he was going to take matters into his own hands.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈
♆ Pornstar!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕
♆ 3.9k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔
♆ Fluff, angst / insecurity
჻჻჻ TROPES: Best friends to lovers
჻჻჻ SMUT: Fingering (F receiving)
჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, daddy, virginity
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆
♆ Please, someone take away my keyboards. I barely survived this.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔
♆ I Want It by Two Feet
♆ Like U by Rosenfeld
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂
♆ @smutconnoisseur
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕
♆ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟮 — Pornstar AU
— Masterlist
𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Movie night with Bucky was a routine that the both of you had maintained for god knows how long. Every Friday night, you would travel to Bucky’s home, or he would come to your apartment, and you would binge either a season or two of your shared favourite shows or a movie trilogy.
Only, it had become hard the past few months.
Bucky was your best friend, and you knew of his occupation. And, sure, you were curious as all hell to learn more – but it didn’t help the fact you had a raging crush on the ridiculously beautiful six foot plus pornstar.
It was an effort to keep the curiosity and feelings under lock and key – having been very successful at it, if you said so yourself. Tonight would be no different. Bucky would arrive at your door at any moment, take out in hand, and his handsome smile and irresistible charm-
No, stop it, you scolded yourself, taking a deep breath. “Chill, girl,” you muttered, gathering the final blanket from your closet for the blanket den in the living room. The butterflies in your stomach slowed a notch, and your muscles relaxed.
As if you had summoned the devil himself, three solid knocks on your front door announced Bucky’s arrival. “Come in!” you called, walking quickly into the living room to deposit the blanket. “I’m in the living room, Buck.”
The door swung open, and footfalls sounded in the entryway. “Hey, doll,” Bucky greeted loudly, the rustling of plastic bags and fabric as he took off his shoes followed his call. “Sorry I’m late; the shoot ran later than I had hoped.”
“You’re good,” you soothed, that same fire sparking at the mention of his work. “How are you?”
“Just fine,” Bucky said, right behind you. You jumped and spun round to find him grinning happily. “How ‘bout you? Ready for tonight?”
The sight of him rendered you speechless for a second – his broad shoulders and chest were covered in a black Henley and leather jacket, and his thighs were clothed in tight black jeans that were stylistically faded. Normally, Bucky wore his hair up in a low ponytail, only keeping it loose for shoots (not that you knew, of course not), but something was different about it right now… Tonight he had it down, fanning to rest at the base of his neck and spreading over his shoulders.
Shit.
“Cat got your tongue?”
You startled and blinked – staring, you had been staring at him. Fuck, you cursed silently. “Sorry, Buck–long day,” you lied, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the thought that Bucky left his hair down- Oh, god, no- “But it’s been good. And you don’t think I can’t take a marathon, huh?”
Bucky smirked. “I know you can’t handle a marathon, cutie.”
“Bucky!” you sputtered, and he just laughed, shaking his head.
“Sorry, sorry–you walked into that one. Anyway,” he said, looking at the blankets laid on the couch. “You get the plates and shit, then we can start.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” you retorted, making him snort. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw Bucky taking off his jacket out of the corner of your eye, and he placed it on the back of the recliner. His back and arm muscles rippled with the movement, and you couldn’t help the way your mouth watered, the fire roaring at the sight. Get it fucking together, you chided yourself, hastily reaching for the plates you needed.
Bucky groaned loudly as he flopped down onto the couch and into his spot, his head thrown back. “Fucking work, I tell you. They’re making me fit more in each damn day,” he complained, running a hand over his face.
You frowned – it wasn’t like him to complain about his job. He loved it, truly loved it. “Are you alright, Buck?” you asked from the doorway.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Just… I just wish they’d take in and listen to what I want to do, y’know, into account. Like,” he gestured mindlessly. “I love what I do, but I just want something else. Fucking twinks and blondes all day is great. Don’t get me wrong–I just want something else, just once. Variety is the spice of life or some shit.”
Unable to think of anything in reply – more so the candid comment about just who he fucks, you walked into the living room and sat down on the couch next to him, grabbing his hand. “I know, bubs, you need a change.” Bucky smiled softly and squeezed your hand. Curious, you looked into his eyes and asked, “What is it that you want to do? I’m sure it’s something hella interesting.”
The look Bucky flashed at you was unreadable, almost considering; calculating in nature. “Just something, doll,” he said evasively. “Now, let’s dig in. I’m starving.”
You smiled and reached for the remote, handing it to Bucky. “You chose, you deserve it.”
The TV played quietly in the background as you two ate, catching one another up on the few day’s ventures from when you had last seen one another. Bucky had many, many shoots – his popularity skyrocketing, going by the analytics of his latest uploads of which he bragged heartily about. You congratulated him, despite the pride and jealousy swirling in your chest at the words. Sincerity wasn’t an issue. You were, in fact, very proud of him, but you wanted it – wanted him.
Inwardly sighing, you began to regale your couple of days. Work had been busy, and the annoying co-worker was being useless, as usual. The small frown on Bucky’s lips at the news made your heart flutter. “Y’know, doll, you could always-”
“No,” you interrupted, “I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t think it’s for me.” Never mind that you’d never experienced anything within the spectrum of his career – too busy with your own job and life, and no one gave you a second glance. “Anyway, I wouldn’t wanna steal your fanbase,” you teased while winking, which pulled a laugh from the brunette.
Dinner passed quickly after that, and you were curled up on the couch, blanket on your lap as you focused on the TV, the scene tense when Bucky shifted. You looked over, but he was still staring at the TV, though he was closer to you – his thigh almost touching yours.
You raised a brow, staring at his profile until he glanced over at you. “What’s up, buttercup?”
“What are you doing?” you asked, eyes narrowed. “Don't try to deny it, I see it. You're planning something.”
“I am not,” Bucky said innocently, smirking.
You continued to stare at him, brows furrowing. “You know, smirking while saying you’re innocent negates the fact that you are, y’know, innocent.”
Bucky snorted with laughter and shifted even closer. “I just wanna be next to you. That alright?”
“Okay…” The warmth from his bulk made you tense – unsure how to cope with the fact that the man you wanted much more with had moved to sit right next to you, his intentions unclear and unknown.
Half an hour later, the TV rolled the credits, and you sighed happily, stretching to the ceiling. “Another?” you asked before turning to look at Bucky.
The expression on his face made you freeze in place – warmth enveloped your entire being, and your mouth fell open slightly. It was a devastating stare, hungry and predatory all in one, and he looked famished.
“Bubs? What–?”
“I have danced around this for so fucking long, and I can’t do it anymore.” Bucky shifted, his body now fully facing yours, and you gulped. “I have seen the way you’ve been looking at me for months now, doll-”
“But-”
Bucky held his hand up, and you fell silent. “Let me finish, sweetheart.” The use of a pet name caused butterflies to come to life in your stomach, and you gave in. You leaned back against the couch cushions to better see him. “I know you know about my lifestyle, and yet, you’re not afraid to get close–you’re my best friend, and I know it’s greedy and downright selfish, but I want more.”
Silence. You couldn’t breathe – couldn’t think… “What?”
“I want you, doll.”
“Oh,” you managed, voice high pitched. “Uh–”
“Take it easy, I don’t mind waiting for you,” Bucky soothed, his hand reaching out to hold yours.
“But–but I haven’t–” You swallowed, hesitating and feeling the dreaded panic start to flood your nerves.
“Haven’t what?” Bucky asked gently, his eyes searching yours.
“Had a… a boyfriend,” you mumbled, grimacing. “I-I, um- I haven’t had one before.”
Bucky stared, eyes slightly widened. "You haven't- Wait, are you telling me you've never had a partner romantically or sexually?”
Shame curled in your stomach, and you shied away, looking down into your lap and doing all you could to avoid his gaze.
“No, no–don’t hide from me, sweetheart. Look at me,” Bucky pleaded, “please, please look at me.”
You looked up slowly, meeting his gaze. Tears lined your eyes, and you felt embarrassed – the heat that had consumed you a second before twisted into shameful nausea. Of course Bucky would be ashamed, he had sex for a living, and yet, here you were, a virgin at your age with no experience-
“Stop. I mean it, stop it, doll,” Bucky cut in firmly, his hands squeezing yours tightly. “I can see those ugly thoughts in your eyes.”
“But, me?” you whispered, sniffling quietly. “Me? When you could have literally anyone you wanted?”
“It’s always been you, sweetheart,” Bucky replied, expression pained. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long.”
“Oh, wow,” you breathed, your bottom lip trembling. “But, Bucky, I’ve never-”
“If you’re telling me you’ve never had sex, that ain’t what bugs me.” The words made your brows furrow, and Bucky sighed. “What bugs me is that you’re so upset that you’ve not got experience–baby, if I am your first for anything, I would be fucking honoured. If you would have me.”
You stared at Bucky for a moment, considering. He was your best friend, the one you’d fallen head over heels for – trust had long been established, and you felt safe with him. This is what you had wanted for so fucking long.
Fuck it, you thought.
“Please,” you whispered, looking at Bucky. “Please.”
Bucky smiled and leaned in close. “Can I kiss you, baby?” His breath fanned over your lips, and you nodded, moving into the feel of his hand cupping your cheek. “Fuck.”
Your lips met softly in a chaste kiss that shocked you with the feeling of utter passion and devotion poured into it. A small noise escaped your throat without your consent. Bucky's reaction of pulling you closer boosted your confidence, and you shuffled into his space, almost effectively sitting in his lap.
The sensation of his hand moving to cup the side of your neck made you shiver, and Bucky slowly pulled back from the kiss. "You're sensitive, aren't you, baby?" he remarked.
You bit your lip. “Never felt that before-”
“Oh, baby,” Bucky purred, grinning widely. “I am gonna blow your mind, but first, if you want to stop, you tell me, and I’ll stop. I will not hurt you.”
“Okay.” Bucky’s hands moved from your face and neck to your waist.
"Lie back for me, baby girl," he said, directing you to recline on the couch. "I want to show you something." Following his direction, you landed gently on your back. "Now, I want to double-check with you–do you want this? Want me to be your first?"
Without hesitation, you said, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted–I want you, Bucky, please-”
Bucky moaned quietly, and you found you wanted to hear that sound again. “You’re gonna be the fucking end of me, sweetheart.”
His hands moved to your hips again, and he grabbed the waistband of your pants, giving a small tug. You lifted your hips in permission, all while shivering in anticipation, and Bucky worked your leggings and panties off – your lower half was bare, and you had no idea what to expect next. Sure, you’d seen porn, and you knew what sex was, but experiencing it? It fucking terrified and exhilarated you.
“Have you got protection, baby?” Bucky asked suddenly, tossing your clothes onto the coffee table next to the abandoned food.
"Bathroom." Bucky raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged. You watched as he walked into your bathroom, and then a second later, he appeared with a box and a tube.
"Now, have you ever used any toys or had any kind of penetration before, doll?" Bucky asked, looking at you with a reassuring smile.
Embarrassment surged up your spine and curled your stomach again. Bucky sensed it, and he smiled softly. "I need you to be honest, sweetheart. If you haven't, it's alright–I told you, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. I'm going to take care of you.”
“No…” you whispered.
Bucky swooped in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for being honest with me, baby. Good girl.”
A small squeak left your lips at the praise, and Bucky grinned. “Oh? You like being called a good girl, huh?” Unbidden, your thighs clamped together, and he saw. “You do… that’s a good thing, sweetheart. Because you are my good girl–daddy’s sweet little thing, huh?”
His voice was so deep and low that you swore you could feel it in your very bones, and the words shot straight to your cunt that had started to leak. “D-Daddy?”
“I know that you know about that, baby. You call me daddy, and I will give you anything you want.” Bucky shrugged, a coy smile on his lips. “Now, I’m gonna kneel right here,” he pointed at your thighs. “And you’re gonna lay there while I work. I can’t let that pussy be empty any longer–I know you must be aching.”
You whined – a sound you’d never made before, and Bucky moved in like a wolf to its prey. His hands rested on your knees as he settled, and before you knew it, he was resting his weight against your shins, staring at you with a softening expression. “You open these fucking gorgeous legs when you’re ready, sweetheart. We do this at your pace, okay?”
“Okay,” you replied quietly, and you bit your lip as his hands rubbed up and down the outsides of your thighs. “Okay–I’m ready.” Opening your thighs, Bucky exhaled heavily, his gaze immediately honing in on your pussy.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, “already wet for me, huh? Bet you’re real fucking keen to know just how it feels to be pleasured.”
You nod, eyes widening as Bucky’s hand moved to cup your sex. The touch was gentle, and you huffed in surprise when his fingers danced over your folds. “Yeah, y’are. Good fucking girl, proud of you already.”
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, squirming slightly. “Bucky-”
“Never been praised, sweetheart? That’s a shame,” he hummed, leaning close until his body hovered over yours. “Get used to it, baby, because when I’m done with you, you won’t know which way is up.”
A moan fell from your lips, and Bucky grinned. “Now, I’m going to go real slow, I need to stretch you out first. I would fuck you with my tongue, but I’m a lil’ impatient–I can do that later.”
“T-Tongue?” you stuttered, eyes wide. “You–?”
“Oh, baby, you really are an innocent kitten,” Bucky purred, and you shivered violently. “That’s alright, you’ve got a whole new world to experience, and lucky for you, daddy knows all the tricks of the trade.”
You laughed nervously, and Bucky kissed your nose. “Now, sweet thing, I’m gonna play with your clit a bit–get you excited.”
“O-Okay–Ah!” Insistent pressure circled your clit, and you keened. Having masturbated before this, it wasn’t a new sensation, but having another person do it was intense, and it pulled a cry from your lungs. “Bucky, oh my god!”
“I know, I know,” Bucky soothed, his fingers moving a little faster. “Stay with me, baby. I know it feels good.”
The circles on your clit continued a moment longer, each pass making you pant from the new, overwhelming sensation. “Alright,” Bucky mused, looking down at where his hand met your cunt, and he pulled it away. “Look, baby, look how wet you are.”
You glanced down and gasped quietly at the sight, then you looked at Bucky, who was grinning like a madman. “I think you’re ready for a lil’ more.”
“More–? Oh, oh, fuck-” You gasped, jolting in place at the feel of Bucky’s fingers trailing to your opening and pushing with the slightest pressure.
“Relax, baby girl,” Bucky whispered, leaning forward to mouth at your throat. “You gotta relax for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Taking a deep breath, you willed your body to unclench, limb by limb, until you were pliant under him again. “That’s it, good girl.”
Bucky’s finger pushed in, the intrusion burning a small amount, and you hissed. “You’re alright; I promise I won’t do anymore,” he reassured, placing a kiss on your forehead again. “You’re doing so, so good for me, baby–just stay relaxed. I can feel how tense you are.”
“Bucky, I-”
“I know, relax for me–relax for daddy, alright? Breathe,” Bucky soothed, smiling down at you. At his words, you tried again, and he smiled wider. “That’s it, now, I’m gonna insert another, stop, then add just one more. That’ll do for the moment.”
“Okay,” you sighed, moving your hands to grip his broad and still clothed shoulders. “Wait, please, I want-” You tugged at the Henley, pouting.
“You want me to take it off?” Bucky questioned as he watched you curiously, and you nodded. “Okay, hang on, baby.” His fingers pulled slowly out of your pussy, and he pulled his shirt off, exposing the muscle and expanse of tattooed skin of his chest. “That better, sweetheart?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, running your hands over his chest, and he shivered. “Daddy looks good.”
“Doll,” Bucky groaned, stilling his movements. “Don’t. Not yet.” You giggled, and he sighed, glancing down at your pussy once more. “Ready for more, baby?”
“Yeah,” you replied, smiling and wiggling your toes. “Please.”
“Good manners,” Bucky praised, kissing you on the lips. “Here we go.”
You moaned at the feel of a second finger, and Bucky paused, the small twitches of his hand ricocheting up your spine like an earthquake. “Why- Oh my god, you’re moving-”
“I’m not, I’m not, baby,” Bucky rushed, voice strained. “It’s just you- Fuck. You’re so tight, and your pussy is squeezing me–I’m trying to keep my cool; I’m sorry.”
“No, no, don’t say sorry,” you said quickly, shuddering through another twitch. “Just feels- It feels good, oh-”
Bucky grinned, the two fingers now purposefully moving along your walls.
“Bucky!” you squealed, your stomach tensing and pulling you up off the couch cushions. “Why-”
“Let it go, baby, let yourself feel,” Bucky whispered, doing it again. “I’m going to give you a third finger and then see how you do, alright?”
“Ye- Fuck!”
“Such a sensitive kitten, and fuck, does daddy love it,” Bucky rumbled, moving to loom over you again. “Taking my fingers so well, baby, squeezing them just like you will my cock.”
The words made a violent shiver grip your spine. “Oh, fuck, daddy,” you breathed.
Bucky shushed you, and his fingers twitched again. “You think you’re ready for me to move them, sweetheart?” The words were followed by a sweeping motion, and you keened. “Like that. You tell me when you’re ready.”
“Ye- Yeah,” you rushed, gripping his shoulders. “Please, daddy, I want it.”
“Okay, kitten,” Bucky said, shifting slightly. “Here we go.”
It started subtle – small movements that made your eyelids flutter, then the sweeping motions got bigger, bolder, and you let out a low moan, your chest heaving for breath.
“Stay with me, baby. I’m looking for something,” Bucky said, biting his lip. You watched through heavily lidded eyes as his brows furrowed in concentration, the sweeping motions getting harder. "Hang on, one second. Oh baby, that's it. Hang on, give it to me. Be a good girl. Come on.”
“What- What are you looking for?” You panted, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. It felt so fucking good, and you were growing needy – wanting more. “I don’t-”
“It will be new for you, baby girl,” Bucky breathed, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s going to be very intense, but it won’t hurt–do you want me to stop?”
“No, no, no, don’t stop,” you pleaded.
“Alright,” Bucky replied, nodding. “Just breathe for me, sweetheart–you’re gonna feel something-” Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, and your eyes bulged. “Like that,” he continued, “but a lot more intense. I need you to trust me.”
“I trust you,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the new feeling. It was like being struck by lightning, and your thighs quivered. “Please, I trust you.”
“Good girl.”
Bucky’s fingers moved again, this time with a mission, and you swore loudly. “Oh my- Fuck! Daddy! Oh my god! Please, what-”
“Easy,” Bucky breathed, smirking, his fingers keeping up a steady stream of sensation as they curled inwards – each brush making your head swim. “That’s it, just take it, baby. Take it for daddy, c’mon.”
“I don’t- Ah, fucking hell,” you babbled, grasping at Bucky’s shoulders, neck, hair – anywhere to ground yourself.
“That, baby girl, is your g-spot,” Bucky soothed, still moving his fingers. “And each time I hit it, it makes you wanna scream, doesn’t it? It makes you want more, huh?”
“Yes!” you cried, squirming. “Please! I-I, don’t-”
“Cum for me, baby, c’mon,” Bucky encouraged, voice raised above your moans. “I know you want to; give it to me.”
Pleasure blinded you, and your back bowed to the ceiling. “Bucky! Bucky–please, please! Oh my god, I think- Think-”
“Don’t think, kitten, just let go, I’ll catch you.”
A loud cry tore from your lips, and you shook under Bucky, your climax stealing your breath and ability to move or think. You could only hear the pounding of blood in your ears and the faraway sound of Bucky’s voice calling over the waves, “That’s it, good girl–good fucking girl, give it all to me. Daddy wants it all, c’mon.”
Slowly, your vision returned, and you glanced around, still panting for breath. “What the fuck,” you gasped, and Bucky laughed.
“Now that was a fucking sight that I will never forget, sweetheart,” Bucky said smugly. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and leaned forward to kiss you full on the mouth, his tongue parting your lips greedily. “My baby girl is a greedy one. Even when cumming, you begged for more.”
“Huh?” you asked, dazed and confused.
“You screamed for more when you were cumming–it was fucking beautiful,” Bucky praised. “And I will give you more, sweetheart, but I need you to catch your breath first. Are you alright?”
You blinked once, twice, and looked down at your body. A sheen of sweat had settled over your stomach and chest, your cunt quivered through aftershocks, pulsing every other second, and your thighs quivered. “I am great,” you said, grinning.
“Atta girl,” Bucky laughed. “Catch your breath, and then you can have more.”
“Okay, daddy.” Bucky winked and sat back on his haunches, running his hands over your calves this time. “Fuck, that was…”
“A lot?” Bucky finished. “Yeah, you won’t last long with my cock in you, either, but fuck, you’re gonna be like heaven, sweetheart. And I can’t fucking wait to bury myself in that sweet cunt a’yours.”
“Jesus, Bucky,” you mumbled, eyes wide.
“Just you wait, gonna see how filthy my mouth really gets when I fuck you, kitten,” Bucky teased.
And you couldn’t wait, not now that you knew just how good his fingers were.
And I–
⠈⠂⠄𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#alternate juneiverse 2023#rookthorne's works#II1
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bad idea right? - raphael x f!tav
your companions have made their stance on making a deal with a devil clear but as the stakes of your quest grow you aren't so certain
a/n: i am shouting out @angellayercake for screaming about this with me and for also having to deal with this:
this is my first raphael fic! i tried :) 2.1k words. smut! mdni! 18+ please. both tav and raphael make bad decisions! ao3 link.
Your muscles and bones ache as you toss and turn in bed, eyes squeezed shut while you try to force yourself to sleep but to no avail. The bed creaks as you shift, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. Sleeping used to be easier before the tadpole, before your abduction and before you somehow became the hero of this story. Your eyes flicker across your companions, watching as they sleep, their chests rising and falling between soft breaths. You knew booking a room at Elfsong would be good for them, allowing them to sleep in actual beds for the first time during your adventure rather than bedrolls on the hard ground. You care for them, more than you’ve cared about anything before, putting their needs above yours. Perhaps that’s why you’ve taken on the role as the heroic leader.
But you don’t want to be. Not anymore. You’re exhausted from trying to go about this the right way when there is a slightly easier way to go about it.
The second those big, brown eyes fell upon you in the Devil’s Den he knew you were exhausted. You still went about the delicate dance of learning what he truly wanted from you and how you refuse to make a deal with a Devil. But deep down, you wanted to and he knew. The way his lips quirked into a slimy smirk as you left, your eyes met his and you gave him a knowing look. He would be expecting you to come back.
You just didn’t think you would be back so soon but you aren’t able to get your thoughts to quiet down. You need your plans in place to quiet your mind enough to rest. Gravel crunches beneath your boots as you make your way back to Sharess’ Caress, a cautious eye scanning the streets for anything out of the ordinary. You miss the days when you could walk these streets without worry, when signs of danger were few and far between.
The hair on the back of your neck stands on end once you reach the door to Devil’s Den, a lump forming in your throat. Ever since Raphael showed his smarmy face and performed his rehearsed speech to your group, you couldn’t help but be curious about him. A devil, a cambion to be more specific, coming to you with a deal was never even a possibility that crossed your mind before, let alone having multiple run-ins with him since you escaped the wreckage. There is always something far too tempting about him and his schemes.
I’ve grown fond of you, in my own way.
You think about the way those words rolled off of his tongue more than you would like to admit. An infernal creature fond of you. You can’t help but feel special. A quick thought blips to the front of your mind, a sudden worry that it’s too late at night for you to be disturbing him. You suck in a deep breath and shrug the thought away — you are his favorite client, after all. The door to his room clicks and you push open the door, revealing Raphael still perched at his desk almost as if he hasn’t moved since you left him earlier.
“Back so soon, mouse?” The devil tilts his head, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You put on quite the performance earlier, I figured you would take a few nights to stew over it before you came crawling back.” His voice drops deliciously low as he curls his fingers underneath his chin, his eyes scanning your body. You feel warmth start to blossom in the pit of your stomach but you choose to brush the feeling off. It’s just like him to continue this little game of his when he knows full well what you are here for. You decide to play along.
“Where is the hammer, Raphael?” You ask, annoyance dripping from your town while you walk completely past him and into the bedroom. He trails after you curiously, watching as you start to go through the drawers of his bedside table. You know it’s not here but you must play along with him, wanting nothing more than to hold his attention. Raphael lingers behind you, peering over your shoulder with a bemused expression.
“It’s not here, my pet. You’ll receive it at the right time — if you accept my deal.” You feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and your cheeks flush, your grip on the drawer tightening.
“How do I know you won’t screw me over?” You don’t dare turn around, almost afraid how close he is to you. One of his hands grabs you by the waist and you can’t help but give a startled mewl. He snaps his fingers and a contract appears in front of you, the infernal script too complicated for you to understand, and a quill floats beside it.
“You wound me.” Raphael purrs into your ear, savoring the position he has you in. The chase, the seduction is always his favorite part. “My deal is fair. We get what we both want. I promise you, my dear, I would never lie to you. You are my favorite client, after all.” His lips touch your earlobe and he can practically taste your desperation. He sucks in a sharp breath to compose himself while his hand on your waist drifts lower. Raphael has you right where he wants to and he’s relishing in having the hero of the sword coast in his grasp.
“Raphael—“ His name catches in your throat as his fingers slip inside your waistband. You shudder and your eyes flutter open and shut, your cheeks bright red as he continues lower. For Raphael, this is something that happens every so often with his business — having to sweeten the deal with a little bit of devilish delight, but this felt especially sweet. Raphael is corrupting you himself, in more ways than one. His fingers stroke along your opening, your folds already slick to his pleasant surprise.
“My, my.” He teases and you can feel him smile against your ear. “Seems that you are quite ready to accept my deal, little mouse. Take the quill.” His voice is a mere whisper now, his fingers teasing at your entrance. You hesitate for just a moment, putting on a small act of reluctance before following his command, the quill feeling impossibly light in your hand. Raphael hums his approval and presses one of his long fingers inside your dripping cunt. You dip your head back and lean into him, resting on his shoulder as your eyes close and lips part, an embarrassingly soft moan falling from them.
A rush of desire courses through Raphael, so strong that it nearly distracts him from the task at hand, a blush rising to his cheeks that unfortunately you can’t see. He gives a low growl, his mouth finding your neck and sucking on the delicate flesh while he starts to curl his finger inside of you. You gasp and drop your hand to grab his forearm, fingers digging into his sleeve as he continues, your body writhing and your toes curling in your boots. Your body is impossibly hot, your mind thinking only about how sinfully good his finger feels, the dangers and worries of signing his contract far away now.
Raphael is lost in your taste. His tongue and lips drifting along your neck, planting wet kisses and sharp bites, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy. He slips another fingers inside, stretching you open with deft digits as he sinks them even deeper. You’re putty in his hands and you hate that it feels so right, that this is what you wanted, what you dreamt about after first laying eyes on him. Your knees start to buckle and the tension in your abdomen is almost at its breaking point, stuttering moans and huffs clawing their way from your throat. Raphael nearly forgets himself, so utterly wrapped up in your taste, your scent, but he’s able to catch himself before he takes it too far. He pulls his fingers from you and starts to stroke lightly at your fully drenched entrance.
“Sign the contract, my little mouse, and I’ll finish you off.” His voice is gravelly and you feel the words vibrate from his chest. You don’t hesitate this time, feverishly signing the contract as his fingers lazily circle your cunt. The second you’ve signed the contract ignites into flames and disappears, quill included. Raphael wastes no time, plunging his fingers back inside and thrusting them roughly. Your hips buck and your eyes squeeze shut, riding his fingers to the edge of the precipice. His teeth find your earlobe, grazing it before giving it a rough nibble that is enough to send you toppling over the edge. Your body trembles and convulses, breathing heavy as your vision blurs and it overtakes you.
Normally, Raphael would have slipped away from his mark, leaving them alone to bask in the delicious shame of making a deal with a devil. But he can’t leave you. His nose scrunches as his eyes meet your glassy ones, your cheeks an adorable shade of red and your lips shiny and pink. He shouldn’t be feeling this way, not for you, not for anyone, but he can’t help but want you. Raphael hasn’t felt this kind of want in ages. His heart pounds in his chest, his gaze drifting to your lips. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But he can’t resist you.
Raphael’s lips crash against yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You groan at the taste of him, cherries and musk, and you melt into the kiss. It’s fierce and possessive, his strong hands grabbing you again by the waist and clumsily pressing you back into the nearest wall. It’s like he can’t control himself which is alarming given how carefully he has crafted his image for hundreds of years just for you to tear it all away in a moment of weakness. He can’t stop himself though. His hands are groping you all over, drifting from your ass to your breasts, with one firm hand settling on your throat.
You can’t breathe and you’re sure Raphael has forgotten that you need to breathe. You manage to tear yourself away from the breathless kiss, air filling your lungs as he bites at your jaw, those caramel eyes never leaving yours. He uses his free hand to tug at your pants, ripping them in the process but he doesn’t care. He needs you. He needs nothing but you in this moment. You’re not used to how quickly he moves, suddenly finding your legs wrapped around his waist while he holds you up against the wall with one hand, his hard cock already pressing against your slick entrance.
You brace yourself against the wall as he slams into you, his sharp nails digging into your ass and a deep moan rumbling from his chest. A scream leaves your lips, your hands pawing at his chest before curling into his doublet to hold on. He keeps the pace desperate, the mere strength of his thighs pounding into your ass enough to leave bruises. You squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and he whines, a sound you want more than anything to hear again. He captures your lips in a kiss again, his burning tongue dominating the kiss as he fills you so deeply, deeper than anyone has before. Your hands drift up his shoulders to settle around his neck, fingertips brushing the soft curls at the nape of his neck and you swear you hear him purr.
Raphael’s teeth, somehow sharper than before, sink into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you give a sharp yelp, your body jerking as the pain sears through you. His breath catches in his throat before giving a deep, rumbling snarl against your lips. One last thrust and he’s spilling himself deep inside you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Your eyes are wide as you take in his face, his forehead glistening with sweat and a few loose strands of his usually perfect hair, his cheeks flushed red. His gaze meets yours, seeing your reaction and immediately disappearing, only to appear a second later in front of you and tidied up except for a hint of redness in his cheeks.
Meanwhile your lips and teeth are stained with blood, your hair is a mess and your pants are still around your ankles with the devil’s cum dripping down the inside of your thighs.
“A pleasure doing business with you, mouse. We shall keep this a special secret between us.” Raphael sounds almost angry with you, nearly growling between gritted teeth but there is something else that catches you off guard. His face – his words sound threatening but his face looks unsure, perhaps even worried?
Raphael leaves in a flash of fire.
part two
#raphael x tav#raphael x reader#bg3 raphael x reader#raphael bg3 x reader#bg3 raphael x tav#raphael bg3 x tav#bg 3 fanfic#baldurs gate fanfic#raphael bg3#bg3 raphael#raphael#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#baldur's gate raphael
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Can I request a part 2 for His Mother (Yandere Damian Wayne x naga reader x Yandere Bruce Wayne)🙏🙏🙏
Yes! For sure you can!
( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)
Note: this oneshot is continuation of this fic.
Tw: mentions of drugs
The faint scent of soaked wood was in the air, and your den's condition was stimulated so well that if it wasn't for the walls around you, you'd feel at home. Minus the sunlight of course, and a fresh breeze, the air made you feel weak and sleepy and its scent was sort of sweet on your tongue, as if it was spring already and the flower petals were in the air. Every day, all you did as time passed was either spent sleeping or taking care of the little one who unlike you was extremely energetic, cooing and babbling as she crawled around with her tiny hands, still not old enough to learn how to crawl with her tail. She could be a menace and a little angel at the same time, crawling on top of a few branches and then jumping down onto you, giggling, which was her favorite pastime that left you alert most of the time to her presence. Lately, a few teeth had grown into her mouth and she had started to nibble on things, including your tail, and feeding her with your hands had turned into a challenge. Now that you looked around, you could see her bite marks on the plants around you. That little thing had explored the whole invisible cage so many times that you'd wondered if she had learned to crawl on the walls as well...it wasn't that unlikely of her.
Speaking of the devil...
Lulu's head popped up from under the water as she splashed the water around her "Mama, mama!" She reached out for you, and you slowly reached out and took the baby in your arms, she could breathe underwater unlike you, which meant her parents were water-based Nagas. Handling her wasn't easy, but it was for a few hours before they came along. Bruce and your boy, Damian. They somehow knew how to handle both you and little LuLu, or as they called her, Lucy.
You looked down at the cooing baby in your arms, smiling softly, Lulu was pure white, her large eyes having a red hue to them, you thought the poor thing was sick for not having a color to her scales or little puffs of hair, not knowing that she was a very rare albino, oh how many nights you had spent on worrying about her health not noticing that she was chubbier than most of baby Nagas you had seen, which meant she was quiet healthy.
As you held the baby, she nuzzled into your chest, liking the fabric of your topwear. Bruce would provide you with them, and not much to your liking, he'd take it off or put it on you himself. Lulu's tail wrapped around your arm as you rocked her, watching her play with the tip of your tail, poking it with her chubby fingers. You let out a soft sigh of irritation as she reached for the tip and started playing with it, you didn't know when you found that abandoned egg you'd end up like this, you were mateless and young, without much experience, you didn't know how to handle the baby, and she didn't help you with handling her either...well, except Damian, at least he'd listen. Your mouth turned downwards, remembering that he was the reason you were now captive. Poor you, you didn't have much luck in both parenting and mating...well, as for mating, Bruce still tried to woo you, you could easily deduce that, but how did he know of Naga culture and their ways of courting, you weren't sure.
Lulu squirmed out of your arms and swam into the shallow pond, splashing around as she swam to the other side of it, you sighed again, too tired to follow her around. "Lulu...honey come back" You tried to take her attention, but she was already on her way to creating chaos once more. You relax your upper body on the warm sands close to the pond, and your lower half rests in the water, soaking in. Today none of them came along, were they unwell? The thought made you feel bad, both with the image of them being sick and your thought of caring about them made you feel bad. You couldn't deny you worried about them as well, but...Were you being tamed like a beast? Never! You wouldn't allow that!
You were too busy rubbing your temple as you let your thoughts circle in your mind like a swarm of irritating flies, to notice the door of your gilded cage opening. Damian and Jon's heads popped in, noticing that you were far away from their side of the cage they let out a sigh of relief. Knowing you, if it wasn't for the sedatives you'd be charging at them already. You looked at the two humans entering slowly, struggling with blinking to keep your eyes open, you rested your head on top of your hand, watching them walk to Lulu, who was already crawling toward them.
"Dami! Dami!" Lulu squealed with excitement as she spotted Damian, her chubby cheeks flushed with the struggle of crawling faster to her brother. Damian smiled at the little one and bent down and picked her up, her giggles filling the air. You smiled softly at the scene, looking at how Damian's one snake-like eye's iris widened at the sight of his sister, a sign that he loved her.
You hummed his name under your breath, remembering the time you had to put your special balm on his wounds, made out of your blood and a few different herbs, unknowingly giving him some sort of mutation, making him gain some snake-like features. How precious he was when he held onto you tightly, seeking comfort, fever haunting his body because of the infection in his blood. You wanted to be mad at him for bringing that man, Bruce, to take you away from your swamp, but you couldn't, he was your boy.
When Damian turned around to take Lulu away you felt a little surge of panic rush into your reptilian heart, where was he taking Lulu? "W-wait-!" You were too slow and the boy and his friend had left with the little one, leaving you there, filling your heart with worry. You moved into the pond, getting closer to the door of the cage, you knew you couldn't move past the invisible walls of it, naturally you didn't know of glasses, thinking of them as invisible walls, you didn't know how to move past them, but you still tried. You moved your hand and slammed it on the door of your confinement with the remnants of your energy in a struggle to make it open, you knew it would be in vain, but you still did so, but much to your surprise, the invisible door opened, letting clean air come into your cage, you could see a different light coming from there...oh?...oh...OH!
....
"Just be quick, I need to put Lucy back with Mom..." Damian told Jon as he put Lulu in the little tub to keep her from crawling around. The baby Naga was a little distraught by the unfamiliar nature of her surroundings, her small fist tightly holding onto Damian's finger. Jon moved closer, with a few little dresses that his mother had tailored for little Lucy. "My mom said they are water resistant," Jon said with his proud smile and helped put the dress on top of Lulu's body, she giggled as her head popped out of the neckline of the little pink dress, finding it amusing that Damian tried to pull her little arms into the holes of the sleeveless dress, to her everything seemed like a game.
"If you want to take pictures, I have a camera you know" Dick appeared behind the two young boys startling them slightly. Jon nodded enthusiastically, while Damian huffed "Let me at least tidy up her hair". He said as he ran his fingers into her white messy locks. "Say cheese!" Dick spoke as he used a rattle to gain Lulu's attention as he held the camera, chuckling slightly as Lulu looked up at him with a large smile, her few teeth shining. The picture of the Naga in her cute dress was taken with a bright flash from the camera. The bright light made a huge shadow behind them appear on the wall the three humans tensed up visibly, turning around slowly, their eyes widening in shock.
....
"E-easy, Y/N..." Bruce groaned out as your tail made another circle around his legs, tightening around them not so gently. You were on top of him, your hands holding him as you glared down at him with your snake eyes. You had crawled out of your cage and since you weren't inhaling sedatives, you were gaining back your strength, so you had startled Bruce on his seat in the bat cave.
You looked down at the man you had pinned to his seat, unconsciously moving your hand to trace the different parts of his face, you were too focused on his blue eyes that you didn't notice his hand move to push a button, it'd give you an electric shock to stop you from doing something reckless, but his hand paused as he watched you lay slowly on top of him, trying to get some warmth from his body. "Mate..." the word came out of your mouth in a whisper, you had realized that struggling was futile, Bruce was the alpha predator of your chain of family, and you should submit to feel happier, he knew how to handle Lulu and Damian and seemed to like you, even now that Lulu was away from you she seemed happy enough, so why resist?
"Mine..." you added, making Bruce smile nervously, something that he had thought would happen with force, now had happened easily. His hand moved away from the button to caress your hair, chuckling slightly as he heard Lulu's voice as Damian approached them with her in his arms "Mama! Mama!" Her voice echoed in the cave, promising a new future in a much different world for you with your new family.
#blue answers#yandere batfamily#yandere batman#yandere#yandere damian wayne#yandere bruce wayne#yandere robin#yandere x reader#naga reader#dc comics
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Aces
prompt: ( requested ) during a terrible storm, you're invited to stay at your boss' house. years of tip-toeing around one another comes to an end when emotions are finally laid on the table.
pairing: Tommy Shelby x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders
word count: 3.5k+
warning: honestly, it's pretty tame. some cursing, kinda-sorta one bed, most def OC Tommy, fluff, author is def on the Grace Hating Train but it's mild.
With a grunt, you threw the file of paperwork from your hands across the empty room; scattering across the floor. You were agitated, grouchy, beyond exhausted, and yet, there was no use in trying to leave when the worst storm to ransack England was being unleashed from the seediest parts of hell.
All you wanted was to go to bed for about 16 hours, but as midnight ticked closer and closer, that dream was dwindling. You'd be lucky to get a few hours at this point since your job was demanding enough to warrant early mornings and late nights. But this night was later than ever before.
You often wondered if your employer's antics brought this hell-storm upon you all, but figured, God didn't care that much about Small Heath. He most certainly didn't care for the Devil running it.
"Woah!" A voice laughed when the file went flying. "Gott'an arm on yah, love! Nearly took me fuckin' eye out!"
"Ha-ha," you mocked John Shelby, your employer's younger brother. "What're you still doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same," he smirked, squatting so he was in front of you with an exaggerated pout. "Why're you still here, love? Tommy's still gotcha workin'?"
"No, it's my own vocation."
"Tommy don't pay overtime, sweetheart."
"No shit," your eyes rolled. "In case I'm the only one capable of seeing it, there's an outlandish storm outside that prevents me from getting home." You gestured around where you sat on the floor, surrounded by files and other paperwork, "So, what else was I gonna do to pass the time?"
"It's not that bad," he waved you off. "C'mon, I'm off t'the Garrison, come with me, love. We can drink 'til the storm passes, huh?"
"John, seriously, I'm warning you," you deadpanned, watching him adjust his flatcap.
"C'mon, sweet cheeks, we can endure it," he laughed, opening the door and literally being shoved back by the force of the wind. You didn't make a sound, just reaching to hold down the papers around you as he grunted and groaned, trying to shut the flailing door; only able to once he threw his entire weight into it.
"Told you," you mused, his face and coat dripping wet from the short time the door was open.
"So, you're staying here, then?" He asked, panting, trying to play off the entire ordeal.
"I figured I'd get some more work done, it's not like Tommy gives any days off," you shrugged.
"He'd give you whatever you asked for," John smirked, taking his coat off.
"No, he needs me to do shit on the daily, there aren't days off, John Boy," you rolled your eyes playfully. "But I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to work for you idiots."
"Hey," he pouted.
"Oh, honey, if it helps any, you're my favorite idiot!"
"Good," he pointed at you with a small laugh. "But seriously, love, if you need the day off, Tommy would do it."
"No, there's so much to do here," you frowned. "We're on track to reopen in a few weeks, and if I take a day off, we'll fall behind, and you know Tommy doesn't do delays."
The gambling den the Shelby's operated was getting a make over now that The Shelby Company Limited was soon to be up and running. Hence why you were there in an empty room with only files around you and a dimly lit lap, you were trying to get shit organized before furniture could be moved back in.
You would have to restock Polly's office, Tommy's, Arthur's, and John's - all of who were Company members and would need their space to work. Not to mention the completely different office Tommy was currently eyeing to use as his base of operation, something you, as his personal assistant, was expected to help with every step of the way. Honestly, it was a miracle Tommy was ever able to get shit done before you - an organizational Goddess.
"Well," John sighed, looking around for a moment before shrugging and placing his hands on his hips, "want some help?"
You chuckled, "No, it's all right, John, you go on. Surely the lads will be home soon - "
Speak of the Devil!
And He will appear!
The door burst open, sending your files every which way from the gust of wind; several bodies shoving their way inside before the lone, single body of Tommy Shelby stalked in last. He shut the door without issue, being a force of nature himself; a professionally observant, silent, lone menace that commanded the attention of any room he walked into. People on the street parted for him like the Red Sea, flocked to the darkened parts of the streets just to get a glimpse of the gangster in motion.
For as long as you can remember, you've harbored overwhelming affection for your boss, but never once vocalized it out of sheer fear of rejection.
He was Thomas Shelby. He was an enigma; a mysterious, stoic man that instilled a sense of fear and respect from those around him. You included, but yet never dare let your admiration for your employer be known in public. You loved him from a distance; admiring him and feeling yourself fall further into your unrequited love due to the intimate proximity you shared. He's always treated you as exactly what you were - a valuable member of the Company and his personal assistant. You worked intimately together on a daily basis, and each night you went home, you would scream into a pillow out of sheer frustration.
Being his personal assistant meant you were constantly in close proximity, and no matter how hard you tried to fight your feelings, it was impossible. He was Thomas bloody Shelby - insanely suave, charismatic, a deep nut to crack, but once he opened up, he was insanely loyal, caring, even decently amusing. He was all you wanted, but never felt secure enough to admit your feelings for him.
You were greeted happily by the men, all piling into the Shelby home to take refuge from the storm. You were left to silently rock to your feet and start gathering the papers that had gone flying in their entrance, glancing up when a hand offered help in rounding up your supplies. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby, but I got it," you insisted quietly, accepting the pages he handed you.
Tommy always had a soft spot for you.
He was silent for a moment, then asked, "What're you still doin' here?"
"Storm makes it impossible to get home," you shrugged. "I was waiting until it lessened, but it doesn't seem to," you glanced out the window, still shuffling files and papers together.
"You've worked all day," he sighed, "c'mon."
"Uh... Where?"
"Think you've earned a drink," he eased, already striding out of the room. You quickly finished gathering your papers, stacking them all together, but was pleasantly shocked when Tommy returned to the empty room with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
"Mr. Shelby, don't - "
But he was already sat on the ground, back against a wall, watching you with amusement. "Think a man's too good to sit on the floor?" He asked, uncorking the bottle.
"When their suit is so expensive that I have to take it to a specific cleaners, perhaps, then yes," you answered truthfully.
"I've money to spare, I can send this suit to be cleaned by another errand boy, you won't have to any longer," he poured two glasses of whiskey, "but tonight's company is too good to pass up."
You laughed, "Oh, no, what did you do?"
"Hmm?"
"You're kissing my arse a little, what've you done? What mess do I have to clean tomorrow?"
He smirked as you finally sat beside him, a bit stiffly, but accepted the drink he served. "Nothing, love, this storm's put a halt on everything," he gestured to the window, unaware that your heart stalled in your chest when you heard him call you 'love'. "What is it you were working on?" He asked, fingering the few files stacked between you. "Ah," he mused, reading the titles of the packets, "trying to get a jump on tomorrow, huh?"
"Not very much else to do," you shrugged. "I... I got a little frustrated. I think I'll need Polly to go over a few things with me."
"I'm sure you've got it," he spoke quietly. "I wouldn't have hired you if incapable."
You nodded, "Right, of course, sir."
Mr. Shelby offered you a look, taking a swig of whiskey. "You know, after hours, you don't have to be so professional."
"You didn't hire me to be unprofessional, though."
"No, I didn't, but this isn't a work meeting," he offered his glass. "We can still be friendly, can we not?"
You clinked his glass with yours, "Sure, of course we can..." How the hell could you be 'friendly' to the man you've pined after for the past two years? "So, I heard Grace skipped town," you started, instantly wincing when you realized what you said. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Shelby, I didn't mean to - "
But he chuckled, "You heard correct." He waited a long moment, then offered, "She's gone - for good."
You tested the waters, "Is... That a good thing?"
"It is."
"I thought you liked the barmaid?"
"I thought I did, too, but I've been wrong before."
"I doubt that."
"No, truly," he smirked, "I've made my fair share of mistakes."
"That you'd be willing to admit to?"
"Well, that's a different story," he mused, downing the last of his glass. "C'mon," he decided, sitting up, "the others are in the den, if you'd like to join?"
"Oh, no, I don't wish to intrude."
"Where were you going to sleep, then? If this storm doesn't die off in the next hour?" You gestured to where your coat and belongings were bunched up beside you, shrugging lightly. "No, absolutely not," he glared when he took in your makeshift bed, "you're coming in, you'll stay the night here."
"No, you lot are having family time - "
"And why do you assume you aren't family yet?" He asked sharply, making you reel back a little. "Three years, you've worked with my family, a portion of that before any of us came home. C'mon, love, you're more family than others wish to pretend to be."
"You mean that?" You worried softly.
He offered a look of mild offense, "I don't speak to hear the sound of my own voice. I would not say it if I did not mean it."
The whiskey in your system encouraged you to offer a sharp look, snipping, "It would not kill you to just say, 'Yes, I mean it.'"
Tommy smirked lightly, nodding, "Yes, I mean it. Come, you'll stay here tonight."
You couldn't fight off the smile even if you tried. With your coat and purse in one hand, Tommy took the other to help you off the floor. Like a gentleman, he took your belongings before leading you further into the Shelby home; leaving the empty gambling den to find the others all stuffed around a table with a card game loudly being played; fireplace stoked to life.
Polly greeted you happily, not knowing you were still here. Tommy set your things to the side as Arthur wrangled you into the seat beside him - insisting you had to be on his team! A quick sniff of his tea mug assured he was waist deep in the whiskey.
"Okay! New player at the table!" John announced, yanking all the cards back to hand over to Polly. They were all smoking, minus you and Finn. "You all know the rules - hey, hey, hey, no! Tommy's not on her team!" He pointed at you and his brother, who had sat beside you to sandwich you between Shelby's.
"Why not?" Tom asked, accepting the tea from Polly as Finn handed you your own.
"Thank you, little love," you whispered, pecking his cheek as he giggled.
"Becuase you two can communicate without words - it's fucking weird!" John insisted. "All right! Polly, you're with Tommy - the fucker likes to cheat."
"Being better than you isn't cheating, John Boy."
"Is when there's money on the line!" John laughed, Arthur leaning over to explain to you the game. He was actually a very good teacher, and even for a few rounds, you weren't a "viable player" just to let you watch and get the gist of things.
However, when you joined the game, it was far more intense than you had given credit for. But the Shelby's were competitive lads, Polly just happy to laugh and remind the boys of the rules; letting them dominate the table as you were content to just watch, laugh, and sip your tea. After a few rounds, Finn came over and hopped up on your lap, declaring you two a team now, and believe it or not, you won the next three hands!
"CHEATERS! AYE!?" John yelled, laughing right after as a boom of thunder rattled the home.
"No, call that beginners luck!" Arthur tried to defend, Tommy lighting a new cigarette.
"Or maybe John's just not accustomed to losing?" You grinned. "Especially from a lady?"
"I lost to a lady? Where? Where is she?" John looked around comically, earning a swift kick under the table that rattled the tea cups.
"All right, all right, next hand, we play for money, come on, come on, bets in the center," Polly instructed. "Finn, don't," she warned and you reached up to push the lad's hand down as he was ready to toss in a few pounds.
"Here, I'll cover us," you told the little lad, both grinning when you offered money to the center. Unknown to you, Tommy was keeping mental track of however much you were betting - intent to pay you back. Yet he didn't say anything, content to watch you and Finn have fun together.
Arthur and John were the most vocal of the group, arguing about scores and tallies and who won which round. You chuckled as Finn leaned into your chest, everyone waiting for the two to finish arguing; Polly looking over with a broad smirk before dropping her gaze. Tommy had seemingly naturally moved closer to you, one arm extended behind your chair to keep you close to his warmth.
Neither seemed to notice.
Not even when you would turn to crack a joke directly in Tommy's ear, his lips spreading in an easy smile that made Polly fight off her own grin. Grace was something special to Tommy, sure, this was true, but after the time together, she could tell that the two of you had become something more - without even verbalizing it.
Never realizing.
Hours passed, the storm still raged, two cartons of cigarettes was smoked between the lot of them, and there was no clear winner in sight. Finn had fully deflated into your embrace, asleep despite the loud thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. Your head had lulled onto Tommy's shoulder, sleep clawing at your eyelids as you listened to a drunken John and Arthur still argue about the card game. Polly eventually called it quits and bid everyone a goodnight, smiling softly when she noted the cozy seating between you and Tommy.
The longer you sat there, you more exhausted you became.
"C'mon, love," Tommy whispered softly, rousing you from your half-sleep, "let's get you to bed. C'mon, up you get," he smirked, aiding you from your chair as you kept a firm hold on his little brother. "We'll see you lot in the morning," he told his brothers.
"Night," John and Arthur waved, still deep into their argument, but smirking to one another when Tommy lead you up the stairs. When you were gone from sight, John leaned in and asked his eldest brother, "Think Tommy'll make a move tonight?"
Arthur glanced up the stairs, musing, "If he doesn't, he might be stupider then we thought."
John agreed.
Upstairs, Tommy opened the bedroom door and let you lay Finn softly on his bed, pausing to tug his shoes off and cover him with his blanket; moving his stuffed teddy bear closer and watching his sleeping hand naturally curl around it. You snuck out of the door, Tommy shutting the door, and tangled your hand with his.
Silently, he lead you to his bedroom.
It was small, ridiculously small, but it was enough for his single person. Tommy shut the door after you, moving around, muttering, "You can sleep in this," as he handed you one of his shirts, "and I'll be in the drawing room if you need me - "
"Tommy, I'm not kicking you out of your room," you sighed. "I can sleep on the sofa for the night, it's not - "
"I'm not letting you do that," he refused sharply.
"Then we seem to be at an impasse," you decided with perked brows. "Either we're both sleeping on the sofa or we both crash your bed. You choose."
He chuckled dryly, "And here I thought the whiskey would make you less stubborn."
"Wishful thinking."
He nodded, letting you have the room to change and get under the covers. It was decently cold in his room, more so without pants; the storm doing nothing to remedy that, and when Tommy returned, everything felt different.
A good different, but still different.
Neither of you made eye contact, him joining you in the absurdly small bed after blowing the candles out. You settled on your side, facing the wall, and after a few moments of adjusting, Tommy was settling down - but hesitating to deflate in comfort.
"Is it all right if I, uh... If I...?"
"Yeah, 's all right, Tommy," you whispered, reaching for the hand that hovered over your waist and pulling it so he was curled around you. It was all he needed to readjust, sigh to himself, and deflate against your back. You shivered slightly when his warm breath fanned over your neck and shoulder; his hand splaying over your belly and rubbing his thumb mindlessly. "Thank you for letting me stay the night," you whispered.
"Wasn't gonna send you home in this weather," he answered, voice vibrating the shell of your ear. "Besides," he whispered in a sigh, "this is where I wanted you, and where I wanted to be."
You chuckled, "Oh, yeah? So cold in here you need a warm body in bed with you?"
"No," he whispered, "but I've been in love with you for months now that I didn't want you far from me. Doesn't feel right, seeing you go home without me - everyday. I was overjoyed to come back and see you still here."
"What?" He didn't let you turn around, just kept you both there; locked in your spoon. "Tommy, what're you saying?"
He took a sobering breath, "That this is what I want, this is where I want us to be."
"That's the whiskey talking."
"No, love, it's you," his lips danced across your ear, making you shiver. "It's always been you, but I wasn't in my right mind to do anything about it."
"And now you are?"
"I might be, I couldn't go another minute with you thinking I don't want you - that I don't value you in my life. The fact that you were ready to sleep downstairs hurt me more than I'm willing to admit," he sighed, "and I knew, I needed to confess a few things so you know, you're welcome in this family. You won't ever sleep downstairs, love, you're meant to be here... With me... If you want to be."
You had to slap his hand to get him to loosen his grip and let you turn around to face him; but his hand remained on your, moving up to grip your ribs. In a whisper, you asked, "You're being honest? Genuine?"
"I can't lie to you, you can always tell. So, am I lying?"
"I don't think so," you whispered with skepticism, eyes narrowed. Neither of your voices rose above a whisper, "Why say any of this, Tommy?"
"Because the idea of going another day without at least trying to tell you how I feel was beginning to feel suffocating."
"What about Grace?"
"It's taken me a bit, but I know now that I was infatuated with her simply because I had already decided you were out of my league."
"Do you hear yourself?" You grinned, caressing his cheek. "You're everything I've wished for, Tommy, but know I can't have. You're the one in a league of your own, I'm the one unable to touch you."
His head shook, "You're all I've wanted and more. I wasn't sure you'd think it appropriate - my affection for you - given you work for me."
"The same reason I feared voicing my affection for you, too."
"Now that it's in the open," he whispered, "how do you want to proceed?"
"We can figure logistics out later," you smiled, tracing your fingertips over his face, "but for now, I just want to enjoy this. I never thought you'd look at me the same way, and now that you do, I don't want to look away."
"You won't have to," he whispered. "I'm in this for us, my sweet, if you are."
"Nowhere I'd rather be," you whispered, cuddled close, and simply breathing the same air. For a single moment, Tommy felt unparalleled peace; the shovels quiet, heart content, and body warm.
requesting rules and masterlist
Peaky Blinders masterlist
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby drabble#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x f!reader#tommy shelby x fem!reader#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x y/n#peaky blinders#peaky blinders tommy#tommy peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders x y/n#tommy shelby one shot
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Hi love!
Okay so we all know I love your writing, especially for Raphael.
How about a scenario where Tav is in mortal peril and Korilla is NOT around/able to bail them out. Raphael has to do it himself. Well, he doesn't "have" to, but he will.
_________
A/N: MY QUEEN. I will do my best. Think this is the first time I've done a Tav who is DOWN BAD (in more ways than one).
_________
Korilla never failed him.
It made it all the more shocking when the dwarf appeared at his side, stinking of sweat and brimstone. Her robe, ever flattering, was torn at the shoulder, and the slightly sweet, slightly sick, stink of burnt flesh filled the Devil’s Den. He reached out a hand on instinct, stabilizing her swaying form. The deal he’d been brokering fell by the wayside. A sinking feeling settled in his chest, all too familiar. His carefully laid plans might come apart at the seams. He felt invisible hands pulling at his stitches.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Korilla shook her head. “Your project…your mouse.” She winced. “Got in over her pretty head.” His warlock squeezed his wrist, “Raphael, I couldn’t…” She’d failed to protect his asset. “I kept them off her, but…”
The weight, curling, twisting; fate was determined to spite him again. And beneath that, more insidious, a second thought. Rage. Something had dared to touch her; something had maimed his pet.
The cambion bowed to his guests, lips pursed. “My associate here, lovely as she is, shall have to entertain you for a moment. Beg pardon, my dears.”
Raphael snapped his fingers.
_________
Pain blossomed through her side. Tav staggered back a step, bringing her weapon up to intercept the blow. The blade doesn’t break the skin; she managed to stop that much. The impact…she’s less fortunate. Her muscles screamed, something tearing in her shoulder.
She’d been stupid. Stupid and shortsighted…
All she’d wanted was a moment's peace. Tav had slipped from the party’s shared room at the Elfsong, determined to watch the sunset in silence. As dearly as she loved her friends, they could be loud and opinionated. After months on the road, with no privacy or distance, she figured she’d earned that much.
Bhaal’s cultists were waiting. If it’d only been a handful, she could have handled herself. It’d been more, so many more. An inane thought chased through her head as she danced out of the way of another strike: how many changelings were left in Baldur’s Gate? How many Bhaal cultists did Orin have? It seemed excessive.
Dozens. There were dozens of the damned creatures. For every cultist she killed, another three seemed to arise, like some hellish parody of the hydra. Tav was tired. One of them moved behind her, knife flashing in the dying light. Fresh pain as the blade tore through the muscles in her calf. She screamed. No, no, no, she had to keep moving. They couldn’t hobble her; she couldn’t…
“How dare you.”
She barely recognized the voice. She was aware of his heat before anything else; the cambion appeared beside her in a wash of flame, catching her attacker by the throat. Panic flashed across the changeling’s face, the briefest hint of emotion before Raphael’s claws tightened their hold. A warm spray of blood coated her face as he tore its throat free, leaving it choking through the ruin of flesh.
“Insolent creatures! You would touch what is mine?”
They tripped back, almost as one. Tav stared up at her savior, confused, vision swimming. The cambion, red, so red, fire and blood, his right-wing curled around her shoulders. Cherries and sulfur fill her nostrils, too sweet for the night air. Too soft in the face of his fury. Raphael snapped his fingers, and the air around them seemingly combusted. Hellfire consumed her would-be killers. Tendrils of shadow and flame consumed every ounce of flesh and bone, leaving nothing but a black mark on the streets.
She blinked, staring up at him. Raphael’s eyes continued to blaze, his jaw set. He dusted a nonexistent speck of dust from his sleeve, lips curling in a sneer. “Strange, I expected the god of murder to employ hardier thralls.”
Tav swallowed. Her throat burned. “Stealthy.”
“Hmm?”
She tried again, struggling to her feet. Raphael caught her elbow. Tav tried to ignore the press of his claws, itching, so full of potential, and the heat of his skin. It had to be the blood loss. His eyes glowed in the half-light. “Orin isn’t looking for hardy. They just need to be quick enough, quiet enough, to catch their victims off guard.” She frowned. “Tonight, they were.”
“Yes.” The lowness of his voice chased along her nerves like a caress. “Are you bold or stupid, pet? The city wants you dead, and here you are.” He motioned to the darkness surrounding them, the alley nearly bereft of light. "A little mouse, alone in the dark."
She scoffed. “I needed…I wanted a moment to myself. Is that too much to ask?” His gaze flicked to the scorched flagstones, brow arched. Tav shook her head. “Regardless, thank you. It…” she chewed the inside of her cheek. “Thank you. For saving me.”
“I sold myself as such, did I not? A friend and savior?”
Tav smiled. “Truth be told, I didn’t believe you.”
“And you’re more clever for it, sweetling.”
Color flared in her cheeks. He was too close for this. Too close, too sweet-smelling, too handsome, and too much. The air in her lungs felt overheated and stagnant by comparison. The blood loss, undoubtedly. Tav chewed her lower lip. “Did you…Raphael, before the…did you call me yours?”
His eyes narrowed. “Careful, pet.” It’s an answer in itself. Raphael extended his free hand to her. “Come. The devil shall return his erstwhile heroine to her companions.”
“I can make it back on my own.”
The severity of his expression left no room for argument. “No, you’ve lost the benefit of the doubt. I shall leave you safely in your bed. Not before.”
She hated the flare of heat in her belly. Raphael's hand settled at the small of her back, wings curling more closely as he whispered the incantation to return them to her room. Weak as it may be, she wrapped her arms around him.
The devil said nothing. But he bent, pressed nearer. Solid and strong, smelling of cherries and fire. Some part of her wondered what he would do if she kissed him.
Tav was saved from any potential embarrassment. Raphael left her at her bedside, bowing, smirking as if he’d followed the line of her thoughts. The damned creature took her left hand and kissed her knuckles.
And then he was gone in a swirl of fire and ash.
#raphael bg3#bg3 raphael#raphael x tav#asks#my writing#love you friend#hope you like this#raph: i'm protecting my assets#Tav: I want to kiss him on his stupid sexy mouth
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hii ogm!! i'm loving the drink event and can't wait to see more stories! i wanted to request a manhattan with muzan (fem reader) where muzan is a politican, similar to in Kimetsu Academia where hes a politican!
sorry if i wasn't being to direct!
feel free to deny the request etc and have a great day! <3
The grass is greener on the other side.
Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;
Format: one-shot;
Warnings: nsfw, age gap between Muzan and the reader but the reader is 21, corruption kink, anal sex, modern au, unprotected sex, mention to reader stretching herself out before the encounter, pet names, slight degradation, use of handcuffs;
Plot: You knew only one thing for sure and thus was that Muzan Kibutsuji was your father’s rival. With the incoming election day, you were busy running errands for your father, when you found yourself face to face with the devil himself. From that infamous night, you always found yourself tangled into the silky bedsheets of Muzan’s bed, allowing him to strip you off of your sense of self-preservation, dignity and purity with every secret meeting.
Drink chosen: MANHATTAN (anal sex, corruption kink, handcuffs, shy reader);
MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
"Dad, I can't make it to the conference in time. My flight got cancelled. I'll take the next one in the morning" you blatantly lied to your father, eyes staring at the golden number decorating the white door of the hotel room you were supposed to meet the reason of your little defection at.
It was not the first time you abandoned your duty as the daughter of a man running for becoming the next Prime Minister to follow your lecherous whims. You felt ashamed of yourself, when this started. You were not that kind of girl, but this man had clearly brought out the worst in you, convincing you it was perfectly fine to fight for what you wanted. To be a little selfish was essential to live without regrets.
Even if your choices would have hurt and disappointed the ones you loved.
But if they did not know about your whereabous, they would have not suffered, right? Therefore, here you were, telling lies to the man who raised you, spoiled you and treated you like a princess since the day you were born. All of this for the sake of a secret affair with his younger rival, the very man he was competing with to conquer the hearts of the electors.
“Don’t worry, honey! You have already done so much for me. — your father reassured you from the other side of the phone, causing your stomach to clench as the remorse ate you from the inside out — You will attend the next one” he exclaimed confidently, while you fluttered your eyes close and nodded your head mournfully. If only he knew where you were, if only he saw you now, wearing that scanty dress to please Kibutsuji, he would have undoubtedly watched his perfect little girl turn into a stranger, a backstabber deserving nothing but vituperation.
“I’m sorry, dad. For real. I’ll be rooting for you anyway” you said with a tinge of sorrow in your voice, right before knocking on the door and hearing the sound of footsteps approaching it from the other side.
“Oh, sweetheart, I know you will. I really have to go now! Take care” your father said then, right when two piercing red eyes locked with yours on the threshold of the hotel room you deemed as nothing more than the Gates of Hell.
Your breath was suddenly stuck in your throat and you barely forced yourself to end the call with a “Bye, dad” before Muzan snorted and stepped aside to invite you in. He was visibly displeased at the sweet way you had whispered the epithet rightfully reserved to the man you shared the same blood with.
He hated the fact that you were his daughter and, if he had to be honest with himself, he had decided to lure you in his den to get back at him. At least, at first. Horrified at the idea of growing attached to you, something that had inevitably already happened, he tried to act distant, but you constantly made it hard to let him consider you nothing more than a cheap harlot. Why? Those eyes of yours, your shyness, were endearing to say the least.
“You can’t stay away from me, can you?” he mocked you, closing the door behind you and watching as you kept your eyes transfixed on the polished marble floor under your shoes.
“I wish I could. It’s not that simple” you whispered, shrugging your coat off of your shoulders and abent-mindedly hooking it on the clothes hanger.
The moment your voluptuary curves were exposed to his gaze, you felt it. Shivers ran down your spine, while you did not dare to turn around and face him. It was unncessary, anyway. He walked stauntered towards you like a predator, his hands searching for yours as he pressed you against the wall. His cologne intoxicated you, while his hot breath fanned the shell of your ear in a scandalous way that made your thighs squeeze together. Planting your palms to the wall before you, he intertwined yours fingrs and nuzzled your cheek with his pointy nose.
“I think it’s true what they say. The things we love are frequently the ones that destroy us” he murmured in your ear, his lips tracing your jawline hazardously.
No matter how many times you had crumbled at his feet, granted him the chance to break you down and build you up again, his touch left you always in a haze. Your cheeks heated up, a knot between your eyebrows, as you tried to hide your face from him. If only you could understand how much that tender trait of your personality drove him nuts.
“Don’t hide from me” he stated, surprisingly tenderly as he reached his hand up to wrap it on the back of your neck.
His grip was secure, when he forced you to crane your neck to meet his gaze. His lips captured yours shamelessly, hungrily, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lap at your parted lips and enter your mouth with the same confidence he held when he walked on a stage. Arrogant and unhinged, demanding and never coy he snaked his arm around your waist to make sure your back was flattened against his firm body. Timid moans fell from your lips, sounds he galdly swallowed, whilst leading you towards the king-sized bed at his back.
Lifting your lids to peer up at him, you hesitantly turned around to be face to face with him and your hand cupped his smooth cheek to run your thumb over his cheekbone. Theoughout the time you two had spent together, you had learned to read his body language. He never gave you the chance to be the master of your sea, but he did not disdain small attentions that oulked the strings of his heart. He had almost given you the impression he was touch-starved, as a dog who had been forced to just bark and growl all of his life and showing off his sharp fangs to keep potential threats at bay.
Muzan had barely opened up with you about his past and personal life. All that he asked of you was someone to keep his bed warm at night, even if you had to crawl into the darkness with him to quench his thirst for you.
You kissed him again, slowly, making sure your bodies were pressed up, that not an inch stood between you two. He reciprocated your attention, careful to remark how you were merely able to take the initiative because he had reluctantly allowed you to. You would have never forgotten it anyway. Not when his hands unceremoniously tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders and proceeded in ripping it apart. You gasped, the sound of the garment coming apart at the seams making you knee buckle.
Muzan flicked his gaze up, tugging the ruined item down your curves to expose your body to him. The way you bit onto your lower lip nervously, still striving to avoid his plum red eyes made him want to ruin you over and over again. Every single time you two met, Muzan stripped you off of things he had yet to touch. Today was not an exception.
“What? Are you sulking over that dress? – he taunted you, quirking a dark eyebrow up before unbuckling his belt hastily – Ask your dad to buy you a new one. After all, he would be ecstatic to shower you in gifts” he bitterly commented, discarding the leather item onto the floor and shoving you down onto the bed by pushing onto your midriff.
His cold touch made your skin sizzle and your mouth went dry, when you lifted yourself up on your elbows, watching him stride to his suitcase and delving his hand into it, rummaging to draw something out.
“Or you wish it was me the one who sent gifts to you, huh? I bet you do. But, mon chéri, you know your dad would toss them into the bin. Therefore, I am forced to give you something else. Something your dad cannot see” he bantered again, his words sounding like a dagger in your heart, words representing the lyrics to the melody played by some metallic object clinking in his hands.
With your heart thrumming into your chest, you let your eyes wander to figure out the source of the chiming only to feel your breath hitch in your throat, when you found out they were shiny handcuffs. The look on your face spoke volumes, your body shuddering in anticipation as you kept on switching your focus from the object dangling from his index and his face.
Mischief twinkled in his eyes, watching in delight as you shifted your position on the bed in sheer desire and pure terror of exploring your tastes, terrorized to find out that you were probably as deranged as he was.
“You are noxious to me. You’ve poisoned me. I should not be here and let you mess me up” you uttered, sitting in a kneeling position on the snow-white sheets of the bed.
Muzan grinned and grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, face dangerously close to yours as he grinned at your face “Then why are you here? Why are you not in the crowd rooting for you daddy, huh? You’re royally screwing up, darling” he cooed, forcing you to lay face down on the bed.
With your cheek pressed against the rose-scented blankets, you chewed on the inside of your cheeks in a spiral of self-deprecation. He was right. You had deliberately chosen to follow him that infamous night and, much to your dismay, the following ones. It was all on you and your greedy heart, hypothetically assuming you still had one in your chest.
Muzan climbed on the bed behind you, his hands reaching for your wrists and pinning them togther behind your bed as he slapped the cuffs around them, factually preventing you from moving your arms freely.
“Have you done what I had asked of you?” he then inquired, hands already slipping underneath the waistband of your thong and dragging the thin item down your thigh.
“Yes, I did” you whispered, ashamed of yourself as he hummed in return.
The things you had done for him, things that had not even crossed your still innocent mind made you want to rip yourself apart. But how? How could you blame yourself for wanting him?
“Splendid. — Muzan chimed, reaching for something behind him on nightstand — Just relax. Look, I’ll let you see your beloved daddy while I fuck you up, alright?” he sarcastically taunted you, as you began to put the dots together. The remoter, he had grabbed the remoter. He remembered the exact hour your dad was supposed to speak to the Country.
Sweat beaded your forehead as you squirmed underneath him, a hoarse chuckle rambling from somewhere deep into his chest as the screen of the tv projected the smiling, proud face of your father. His eyes seemed to bore right into yours as Muzan fumbled behind you with his pants and grasped your hips into his calloused hands.
“Ah, look at him. My rival has a good taste in neckties. Where does he buy them? Marinella? Those are surely italian-coded” the raven-haired man behind you noted, deliviring another unfathomable kick in your guts.
“You are a bastard” you whispered, eyes widening as he pressed the girthy tip of his cock against your puckered hole. The stretch left you breathless, eyes watering in the process. Frankly, seeing the face of your father partially blurry was far way better than having a clear vision.
While Muzan grunted, makinf sure you could feel every inch of his cock dilating you, the words your dad said made you choke out an uncontrollable sob.
“My sweet daughter could not be by my side today. Her presence is a blessing. Hopefully, she’s now somewhere out there to bless someone else’s day. I love you, sweetheart!” your father said and there was a burst of applause to echo throughout the room.
Wincing softly in pain, hips rotating to accomodate to the intrusion in your most private area, you had to endure the way Muzan sneered and began to rhythmically thrust into you, a crazed expression on his face as he pounded into you without much care of your condition “Oh, you have no idea. Her ass is a fucking blessing, sir” he mocked your father, earning a stifle moan from you.
You wished you could space out, but it was impossible. The stimulation you were receiving was driving you mad. The pain gradually subsided, causing a series of unbridled moans to erupt from your throat. Drool was running down the angle of your mouth, back arching convulsively, as you heard every words your father said and felt every comment Muzan made.
“Fuck… Nah, I’m going to have to send my regards to your father, kitten. — he rasped out, giving you one last thrust, before pulling out with a groan and releasing onto the small of your back — After all, I’m going to steal his lucky charm from him, once I beat him” he whispered after a few seconds.
Trembling, astonished, you closed your eyes and laid there with a drained expression on your face. Muzan Kibutsuji was going to be the death of you.
AUTHOR NOTE.
Hello there! The third request for my event is done! Honestly, I hope you’ve enjoyed this one as much as I did. Why? Guys, come on, it reflects my main story “Guilty pleasure”. I felt like I had deprived you of ‘Politician Muzan’ for way too long not to write this one as soon as possible. Now, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!
Until next,
X O X O
TAGS: @doumadono @axesfordays @tomorika-pura @cursetopia @the-dark-creature @yazzzmints
#muzan x reader#muzan x you#muzan smut#muzan kibutsuji x reader#kibutsuji muzan x reader#muzan x y/n#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#kny smut#muzan kibutsuji
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Bath, Bed & Beyond - Raphael x Tav
After weeks of constant battles and near-death-experiences, it was a slap in the face that the Crown of Karsus ended up in the Chionthar.
It could have fallen anywhere else but in the river.
It could have been easy.
Had it landed on the docks, Tav would have plucked it from the ground like any other item she pilfered. She’d have put it in her pack and would have promptly gone off to deliver the all-powerful Netherese artifact to Raphael - satisfying the terms of her contract.
But no! Nothing was ever as easy as it could have been; it wasn’t easy convincing Rolan to spend time on the docks casting spells on her and supplying her with potions; it wasn’t easy deep diving into the murky river waters for days on end; and it certainly wasn’t easy finding the godsdamn Crown of Karsus!
Bloody thing was a pain in her ass…
She should have listened to her friends, and she shouldn’t have made a deal with a devil…
Much to Rolan’s chagrin, Raphael had shown a number of times over the course of her search. He, apparently, “wanted to see how she was faring”, and, according to the wizard, seemed to find amusement in her desperation of trying to find the object that would see him rule the Hells.
One night, after failing to find her missing treasure, Tav wondered out loud why Raphael didn’t help her; it didn’t make sense that he’d prolong his ambitions after all of the salivating he did whenever he spoke of the Crown.
Rolan suggested maybe there was a secret time limit buried in the nooks and crannies of her contract. Maybe Raphael wanted her to fail because he wanted her soul.
“He’s waited this long, I’m sure he can afford to wait a bit longer to ensure he gets both you and the Crown of Karsus. He’s a devil - are you really so surprised that he’d desire to keep you as well?”
To that, she called Rolan crazy, but Tav searched harder in the days that followed (out of fear that she was racing an invisible clock), and she eventually found what she was looking for.
—
Tav entered the Devil’s Den without knocking. She cared not that it was rude. She cared little about anything outside of fulfilling her contract, taking a bath, and sleeping for a very, very long time. Fatigue wreaked havoc on her body after recent events and days of stressful swimming, and the too long of a walk that brought her to Rivington drained her to the brink of wanting to fall over.
She ambled into the suite, and Raphael’s mortal visage made a face at her appearance - namely her water-logged countenance of damp hair and damp clothes that reeked of river water.
She hoped her exhaustion came off as apathy.
“Your message stated you had something specific for me?” he asked.
He was referencing the message she sent with a Scroll of Sending roughly an hour and a half ago. With it, she said: “I have your stupid Crown. Where should I meet you? Are you coming to the docks? Please come to the docks.”
Panting had, unfortunately, been included in-between some of her words.
Tav blinked, and her eyes went from staring longingly at the steaming bath littered with flower petals to the cambion who appraised her with a raised brow.
“I do,” she answered, and Tav reached into her pack for the Crown. She crossed over to him, revealed the artifact, and Raphael’s mask of composure cracked.
Ambition bled from the fissures - his dreams would not remain dreams much longer…
With the current most important dream realized, a shaky breath left Raphael as he accepted and held the Crown in his hand. Tav rummaged around for the Netherstones, and she placed them on a nearby desk when it became clear that Raphael was having a moment between himself and his new shiny and dangerous toy.
She glanced down to see if he had an erection, and sure enough, a bulge was forming from inside his pants.
“Raphael?” she prompted.
“Hm?”
The Crown and fantasies of grandeur had successfully enthralled him.
“Is my contract fulfilled?”
“Yes.”
When he did not procure said contract, Tav sighed.
“Can I trust that you’ll see to completing my contract… when you’re done?”
“Mm, yes.”
Rolan was wrong; he did not want her or her soul. Raphael’s interest in his little mouse was purely in being a delivery tool for his precious artifact, and Tav found herself feeling oddly crestfallen at the verdict. It was nothing more than devilish amusement (or a form of punishment) that kept him from helping her fetch the Crown from the Chionthar.
“Great, thank you. Goodbye, Raphael.”
She turned and took a step for the door.
“Leaving so soon, Little Mouse?”
The rich purr of his voice stilled her.
“The delivery has been made, and you are preoccupied,” she answered, facing him again.
“Pardon my momentary lapse - I assure you it won’t happen again.” As if to make a point, he went to where the Netherstones were gathered and placed the Crown beside them. He leaned against the desk, blocking the artifact’s view from him and her. “Thank you for bringing me the Crown. I knew you wouldn’t fail - just as you knew failure wasn’t an option. You must regale me what the depths of the Chionthar look like sometime over dinner. The smell of the river, however, I could do without.”
Understanding his insinuation that she smelled, she gave him a thin lipped smile. “Then I shall be on my way...”
“You misunderstand, my dear!” Raphael gestured theatrically for the bath, and his features became predatory. “Stay awhile, won’t you? I will fulfill your contract before your very eyes, and you will sleep soundly tonight knowing you made the right choice in bargaining with a devil.”
The bath did look inviting…
“If you’d like, you have my permission to rest your weary head in this room,” he continued. “The bed is quite cozy - not nearly as comfortable as the bed in my House of Hope, but you know that already, don’t you?”
Tav’s blood went cold at his mention of her uninvited visit.
“Sorry about that…” she offered sheepishly, meaning it. Haarlep’s use of her body had become a nuisance, yet it often aroused her to think it was Raphael who benefitted and used the unintentional gift she left behind.
Based on the look in his eyes, he did.
Snap!
A contract materialized from within a plume of smoke and embers, and the infernal words etched into the parchment glowed. At Raphael’s behest and a wave of his hand, a new emblem-like symbol was magically inscribed before the parchment went up in flames.
“It’s been an Absolute pleasure doing business with you, Little Mouse.”
Oh no - his stare was making her feel warm in places.
Maybe Rolan was right in some regard.
Maybe Raphael did want her.
“Likewise,” Tav responded. “And I appreciate you loaning me the room.”
She waited for him to leave.
She expected him to leave.
Oh no.
He wasn’t leaving.
“Aren’t you leaving?” she questioned, intending on taking advantage of his offer to stay and use the room’s bath and bed.
“Leave? And miss the sight of you bathing? I think not.”
She flushed.
“Ah.” Tav peered at the bath, then back at Raphael. “You’re not planning on joining me are you?”
He smiled devilishly. “Would you like me to?”
Yes.
“No, that’s alright.” Tav went to the bath and began to shed her pack and gear. When it came time to remove her boots, she decided to test the waters by turning the act of undressing into a show. She sat upon the bath’s edge and, with deliberate slowness, gracefully peeled away her footwear. “Are the flower petals your idea or are they an added flourish from the staff?”
“Do you like them?”
“I do.”
“They are my personal touch - just for you.”
The expression she threw at him while she undressed was filled with skepticism.
“You can stop trying to charm me, Raphael. The contract is done, you got what you wanted, and I’m in the middle of taking my clothes off.” Somewhere along the way her voice became decidedly more… seductive. “I wouldn’t normally allow you to watch the latter, but it’s conjecture to think that you’ve already seen me naked.”
It was thrilling to see that she enthralled him just as much as the Crown of Karsus. He was silent, his eyes blazing as he watched her stand and push her breeches down. Tav’s thumbs next hooked into the top of her panties and she slowly, teasingly, shimmied the undergarment past her thighs. They pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of them and her breeches, pushing both aside to be with the rest of her stripped attire.
He could not yet see her sex, as it was hidden by her tunic, but the shirt was soon gracefully pulled over her head and thrown onto the pile.
Raphael visibly swallowed.
Tav reached around to undo the fastenings of her brasserie. The undergarment went slack, and she quickly held the front to her with a hand before it could fall away.
She turned to face the bathwater and discarded the top with a flick of the wrist.
The cambion let out a low hum. Whether in approval of seeing her bare backside or in disapproval or not seeing her nude state in its entirety, she couldn’t tell.
“Was this your plan?” Tav asked innocently as she bravely stepped into the steaming water. It was hot - excessively hot, but after waging and winning a war against a Netherbrain, after spending too long in the cold Chionthar, and after completing a deal with a devil…
It was heaven.
“What plan are you speaking of, my dear? I have many.”
Tav waded to the center of the bath, water rippling up to her thighs. She glanced at the cambion from over her shoulder with a smirk, and then rotated to give him a full-frontal view.
A deep-rooted hunger befell Raphael, and Tav mentally marked a point under her name: where the Crown failed in fully arousing him, she succeeded.
“When I sent my message to you, you sounded insistent on meeting here and advised that I shouldn’t tarry. You could have come to the docks, which, by the sound of things, you were fond of doing.” Tav lowered into the water while wincing and biting her lip at the temperature. “I was going to accuse you of wanting me smelly and exhausted so you could easily persuade me to take a bath as you watched, but, now that I’m thinking about it, I do recall there being a full bath and a smattering of flower petals when I initially met you here and signed the contract. Who was the bath for then? Voss? My companions and I?”
“I was merely setting the scene for my most important client of the day! I would never go to such efforts for Voss, nor your companions - nor for any other mortal whose name is but a tiny drop in the ocean of souls I’ve collected. It was all for you, Little Mouse.” Raphael crept towards the bath - a predator moving in on his prey. “Today I wished again to set the scene - with a reward. Now that you are without your troublesome friends and an even more troublesome tadpole, you can relax and enjoy without impediment! Soak, my dear! Soak and be content in your hard-earned and well-deserved bath, then off to bed with you…”
Tav reached for a fresh bar of soap that smelled distinctly like cherries and she ran it across her chest after wetting it. She batted eyelashes that suddenly felt heavy due to the talk of bed.
“Are you going to tuck me in, Raphael?”
His chuckle was downright sinful.
“Yes, I’ll even read you a bedtime story.”
“Oh?” Tav languidly rubbed aromatic suds into her skin. “What’s the story about?”
His eyes followed her hands.
“A fox who secured all that he wanted.”
Tav smiled and she briefly submerged herself.
“Did the fox secure the woods?” she asked after breaking through the water’s surface.
“He did, and the neighboring woods.”
She placed the bar of soap back onto the edge, and Tav scratched at her scalp and combed fingers through her hair.
“I presume he secured the animals inside of the woods as well?”
“Every single one.”
She made a point to stare into brown, dilated eyes.
“Including the mouse?”
“You’re going to spoil the story for yourself…”
It was at that moment that a yawn formed in her throat. She did her best to ignore the symptom of drowsiness (things were becoming interesting), but the yawn was persistent enough to force an escape. Tav covered what she could, but it was the kind of yawn that made her eyes water. When she blearily looked at the cambion, the desire on his face had been replaced with warm humor.
“I was wondering how long you would be able to keep your guise up,” he remarked.
Another smaller and shorter yawn broke through.
“Finish up,” Raphael ordered, and he walked away - disappearing to the other half of the room.
Tav complied. She rinsed out her hair, finished scrubbing in all the necessary places, and by the time she was done, Raphael had returned. He held out a plush red towel for her to take when she moseyed to the bath’s edge and climbed out.
“Thanks,” Tav said, fighting back what could possibly be an endless string of yawns. The towel was soft and thick, smelled like Raphael, and she made a note to steal it in the morning as she wrung out her hair and dried herself off.
“I won’t miss it,” Raphael said knowingly.
“How - I don’t steal everything, you know,” she scoffed.
“I am aware.”
Tav made a new mental note - to not steal the towel in the morning.
Sufficiently dried, she cheekily dropped the towel to the floor and peered at a bed that had been prepped for sleeping.
The urge to sprint and throw herself into the covers was extinguished when she was unexpectedly scooped up by arms and swept off her feet.
“This is becoming ridiculous,” Tav muttered. Despite her tone, and against her better judgment, she foolishly liked the feeling of being held by the cambion - the feeling of his hands on her...
“Did you not ask to be tucked in?” Raphael retorted, carrying her naked body up the couple steps that led to the bedroom portion of the suite.
She was too tired to think of a witty comeback, so Tav stayed silent while Raphael transferred her over to the bed.
“What do you normally sleep in, Little Mouse?”
Usually just her smallclothes.
Tav glanced up at him. “I sleep naked, of course.”
His eyes flared, and she could read that he wanted to do far more than simply tuck her in.
He gently laid her upon the satin bedding. A fluffy pillow was beneath her head, and the sheets were smooth against her skin. Raphael reached over to draw the top sheet and comforter over her, and Tav was enveloped by heavenly, toasty warmth.
“Would it be possible to have the room for the next day or two?” she murmured, making herself snug under the covers.
Her eyes closed as the fox smiled brightly.
“Oh, my Little Mouse, stay as long as you’d-”
And she was out.
#this started out as a prompt fill but turned into something else#womp womp#bg3#raphael bg3#raphael x tav#raphael x tav fanfiction#baldur’s gate 3#my writing#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction
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BTS Fic Recs ☆ Tumblr (i)
These are all available on tumblr as of April 2024. Some are likely crossposted on ao3 as well.
~Ao3 RECS HERE~ ~Recs (ii)~ ~Recs (iii)~
Almost all are complete works, those with “+” after WC are incomplete. Most are BTS x (F!)Reader.
Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly
If any authors tagged here wish to be removed/untagged, please lmk! | Shoutout to @ggukkiereads who does an amazing job creating rec lists, which helped me find many of these fics
F2L = friends to lovers ; E2L = enemies to lovers ; FE2L = frenemies to lovers ; R2L = rivals to lovers ; BFB = best friend's brother ; BBF = brother's best friend etc
OT7/Multi
☆ BTS Reactions by @dreamescapeswriting | SFW + NSFW |
☆ BTS Scenarios by @btsjfans | SFW + NSFW |
☆ BTS Scenarios by @bulletproofwhalien | NSFW + SFW |
☆ BTS Scenarios by @salvejoon | SFW + NSFW |
☆ BTS Scenarios by @sunshine-and-bangtan | SFW + NSFW |
☆ Desperado Series by @heartbeatan | Mafia AU | PJM + JJK + KTH (in progress) | 60-160k(+) each
☆ The Company series by @btsmakesmehappy | Agent AU | 25-37k(+) each (in progress)
☆ Mafia BTS Reactions by @ninetailedfoxmanchi | Mafia AU (+Yandere AU) |
☆ #CodeBTS series by @yminie | Mafia AU | 1-12k each
Kim Namjoon
☆ The Ghost in Apartment 1403 series by @notsoguiltykpop | Ghost AU, Supernatural AU, Roommate AU? | ?k
☆ beauty & the bookworm by @jungshookz | E2L Library AU, Uni AU | 20k
☆ la vie en bonsai by @jungshookz | S2F2L Neighbours AU, Baker AU | 38k
☆ The Seven Nights series by @theunknowncryptid | SMAU, Mafia AU | 13k
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☆ {Unavailable}
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☆ suit & tie by @jungshookz | CEO AU, Office AU, Coworkers AU, PA AU | 21k + drabbles
☆ hellish by @jungshookz | E2L Demon AU, Roommate AU | 22k
☆ strike a chord by @snackhobi | S2L Pianist AU, Bar AU | 16k
☆ straight shooter by @snackhobi | F2L/E2L Cyberpunk AU, Dystopian AU | 14k
☆ devil with the mint hair series by @theharrowing | E2FWB Brother's BFF AU, Stoner AU | 11k+
☆ a wager of lords and love by @hisunshiine | S2L Historical AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 7k
☆ daechwita by @chemicalpink | Daechwita AU, Assassin AU | 10k
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☆ daechwita by @se0kie | Daechwita AU | 4k
☆ make me proud by @moonscriptsx | Established Relationship AU, Canon Idol-verse | 6k
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☆ a brew of wings by @inkedtae | S2F2L Dragon AU, Witch AU | 10k
☆ fury of their scales by @kpopisthereasonihavenolife | Dragon AU | 18k
☆ inheritance series by @jincherie | Hybrid AU | 21k
☆ tuxedo series by @whatifyoulivelikethat | Cat(-shifter?) AU, Roommates AU | ft JJK | 49k+
☆ Assuage series by @btsqualityy | Omegaverse AU, Werewolf AU | ?k
☆ show by @httpjeon | Pw/oP ft BTS | 2k
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Jung Hoseok
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☆ the bride of ashmedai by @jeonggukingdom | Demon AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 13k
Park Jimin
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☆ Set It Off series by @btsqualityy | Mafia AU | ?k
☆ the hunt by @httpjeon | Shifter AU, Fantasy AU | 8k
☆ lovebug by @httpjeon | Hybrid AU | 12k
Kim Taehyung
☆ Pied Piper by @untaemedqueen | Mafia AU, Established Relationship AU | 10k
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☆ kinda hot by @kimnjss | BFF2L SMAU, Uni AU, Fboy AU | ?k
☆ nip it in the bud by @opaljm | Brother's BFF AU, Piercing AU | 10k
☆ heatwave series by @curly-bangtan | F2L Roommate AU | 12k
☆ under the covers by @jessikahathaway | Agent AU | 23k
Jeon Jungkook
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☆ blizzard by @curly-bangtan | S2L Roommates AU | 16k
☆ Sparkle by @btsmosphere | F2L Roommates AU | 3k
☆ Hands-On Learning series by @ladyartemesia | Uni AU | 5k
☆ kiss it better by @jincherie | Uni AU, Sports AU, Cheer AU | 12k
☆ ghosts just wanna have fun by @sugaxjpg | Ghost AU, Supernatural AU, Uni AU | ft MYG + KTH | 20k
☆ tell me your secrets (i'm all ears) by @jinpire | Uni AU, Hybrid AU | 7k
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☆ overtime by @cupofteaguk | CEO AU, Office AU, PA AU, Coworkers AU | 12k
☆ I won't stop you series by @imsarabum | Vampire AU, Fantasy AU, Office AU, Coworkers AU, CEO AU, PA AU | ?k
☆ life eternal by @jungkookiebus | Fae AU | 9k
☆ hotter than hell series by @chateautae | Demon AU | 136k
☆ Hellblazer series by @jungkookiebus | Demon AU, Constantine AU | ?k
☆ agent of love series by @ppersonna | SMAU, Agent AU | ?k+
☆ strawberry kisses series by @kimnjss | SMAU, Brother's BFF AU, Tinder AU | ?k
☆ drag me down (to hell) series by @kimvtae | Mafia AU, Single Parent AU | 58k (abandoned)
☆ Concealed Weapon by @gimmesumsuga | Mafia AU, Husband AU | 10k
☆ hate sex by @yeoreos | FWB Pw/oP | 4k
Overall Favourite Authors (If I recc'd all their works like I want to/more than I have, I'd have to make this series even longer >.<)
☆ @bonvoyagenoona's masterlist
☆ @chateautae's masterlist
☆ @flowerwrites06's masterlist
☆ @here2bbtstrash's masterlist
☆ @hollyhomburg's masterlist
☆ @icyhobi's masterlist
☆ @jungshookz's masterlist
☆ @justcallmenikki7's masterlist
☆ @kpopfanfictrash's masterlist
☆ @ladyartemesia's masterlist
☆ @luxekook's masterlist
☆ @magicalsalamander's masterlist
☆ @yminie's masterlist
☆ @yoonia's masterlist
#bts fic recs#group: bts#type: fic#i think i did a pretty good job of hiding my yoonkook bias if i do say so myself :]
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Yi Joo might fight and deny it all she wants, but she is attracted to Do Guk, not only because he is insanely hot, but because he keeps throwing her off her axis and turning her world upside down. She gets to experience so many things for the first time with him - like being welcomed home when she arrives and with a smile to boot, as opposed to being ignored or abused. He probably doesn't even realize because it's something mundane to him, but it's rare and special to her.
The way he knows she would be starving herself until late night and decides to become her personal chef and food taster, to elevate her fears, without putting any pressure or expectations on her to accept. It's such a purely unselfish act, pouring out so much effort and heart into making her feels safe.
There is no doubt now, Seo Do Guk has declared war on Yi Joo's family, naming himself as her general/prince/knight in a shining armour. The first surprise attack - check, now it's time to shore their defences... HE GIVES UP HIS OWN HOUSE AND TURNS IT INTO HER SANCTUARY WHERE SHE CAN ESCAPE AND HIDE FROM HER FAMILY AND ALL HER ENEMIES,...
...and he turns into a giddy puppy when he gives her a tour of the house, I thought I died when he opened the kitchen cupboards he filled with enough packed food to feed a small army. (I mean, if Napoleon had Seo Do Guk, Russians would be speaking French now.)
More like showing her their newlywed den and waiting for her approval. Also, he is such a shamelessly and irresistibly adorable flirt, Yi Joo stands no chance against this charming devil.
However, then he takes her to her room and my soul has left my body, because it's the complete opposite of her room (and even her room from the future). Also, it's definitely NOT following the latest trend since it's everything but monochrome and minimalistic. It's basically a suite with its own bathroom, huge windows, a closet full of furniture and clothes he handpicked for her himself (he literally handpicked everything in the room with her in mind, eager to give her everything she was cheated of) - he has created a safe space for her, a place she can call her own without being spied or intruded on or abused; it's huge, full of colour, and things she loves: an easel, canvas and paints.
Remember how in episode 1, the rich housewives were shocked Yi Joo painted, since her mother had gone out of her way to keep it a secret, but Do Guk is somehow aware of it; another reason he knows more about her than he lets on.
He is no subtle whatsoever at trying to convince her she doesn't need to leave the place ever again, because he will make sure she doesn't lack anything and will give her the moon if she asks for it. Also, when Do Guk says "everything you need is here" and he is standing in the middle of the room so vulnerable, insecure and shy, you just know HE is everything she needs but hasn't realized it yet.
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An Indecent Proposal
Raphael x FemTav/Reader
NSFW mdni
tags: inappropriate touching, edging, panty sniffin', raphael is a dirty little pervert, clothed male, naked female
summary: you barge into Sharess' Caress ready to give Raphael a piece of your mind. however when you get there, things do not go as planned.
read on ao3 via source
(this is pretty dialogue heavy because Raphael likes the sound of his own voice. and I don't blame him. this is also silly.)
You don’t bother to knock when you reach the door with the little shiny plaque that says “Devil’s Den” in an ornate script. The door isn’t locked, so it swings open effortlessly when you barge in. The tirade ready to fall from your lips falters as the door closes with a soft click behind you and the hand you had raised in righteous anger pauses before limply falling to your side.
Raphael is lounging in one of the overly gilded armchairs that furnish the den, a glass of something that looks both incredibly alcoholic and expensive dangling from one hand as he regards you with that infuriatingly knowing smile. None of that is why the cat suddenly has your tongue; it's that he has shrugged off the outer layer of his clothing and sits there with his white shirt unbuttoned. The view of his bare chest isn't a particularly novel sight—after all, you share a camp with several people, and some—like a certain large elf—enjoy being one with nature on any occasion they can get. It's more of a shock to see Raphael in such a state of undress; it would be a lie to say you had never considered what lay beneath his neatly tailored clothes. But you would have bet all the gold in Faerûn that Korilla stitched him into them every morning to ensure they stayed perfectly in place. Right now he looked so...deliciously dishevelled.
“My, my," comes his amused voice, "does the squirming tadpole hinder your manners as well, little mouse?” The gentle timbre of his voice washes over you and it's enough to snap your attention to his face. “Or have you always been an uncouth little beast that flounces in without knocking?”
You frown at him, your irritation flaring up again. Your fingers flex—though not in a fit of pique but because your mind has been lost to the thought of running your fingers through the hairs on his tanned chest. That bloody distracting devil. Why did you come here again?
"Did you come all this way to gawk like a gutted fish or did you have something you wished to say?" He raises a brow, tipping his drink towards you. "If you wish to stare, I am, of course, happy to oblige—though that will cost you. This establishment operates on a quid pro quo basis, you know."
Quickly you shake your head, trying to wrangle your thoughts. The devil stands, unfolding himself gracefully from his chair and languidly striding over to a nearby credenza on which an array of bottles and glasses sit. He moves with care, never rushing, and with a deliberate air you can’t help but admire. He makes you feel clumsy.
You watch him carefully pour some rich amber liquid into his glass. It looks like steam rises and hisses above it for a moment before disappearing. The man turns to you, the corner of his lips quirked.
“I’d offer you a drink but I’m certain you’d decline.”
That presumptuous bastard. You’re too irritated to wonder if this is a trick on his part, which is foolish. But he too easily gets under your skin and so you open your mouth to retort.
“I would love a drink,” you say petulantly. You watch him take a sip, hating how you can’t stop yourself from watching his tongue flick out to catch the remnants of it on his lips. He fills up another glass before passing it to you. You watch the amber liquid swirl a moment before throwing it back quickly.
An incredibly stupid thing to do. Whatever it is, the liquor burns your throat and has you spluttering as you bend over coughing. You hear Raphael’s low chuckle of amusement before a glass of water is conjured out of thin air and hovers before you. You snatch it, guzzling it down just like the beast he claims you to be.
“What the bloody hell was that?” you ask, wiping at your mouth with the back of his hand. You catch his nose wrinkling at your lack of decorum. “I think my insides are melting!”
“Cease your melodramatic caterwauling,” he says, casually taking another sip of his own drink. Smug bastard. “It will pass.”
You cough again, feeling the liquor heat up your veins. You blink a few times before the alcohol simmers down, leaving just a pleasant warmth in your belly. Liquor and spirits had been few and far between while on your little adventure—well, anything half decent that is. The swill you’d managed to get was no better than vinegar. You’d stupidly agreed to let Astarion steal some expensive-looking vintage from the wine festival in the Lower City…which had ended up with you spending the night in a cell. Sometimes that elf was the clumsiest person you’d ever met. With that thought, you suddenly remember why you’ve come here.
“I would like for you to stop sending Korilla to spy on me,” you demand as the devil places his drink down so he can re-button the cuffs of his sleeves.
Did he go deliberately tan on some beach, you wonder? That thought spirals and you’re suddenly picturing lying in the sun on some perfect beach while his skin glitters with salt and sea.
“You should be thanking me.” His lilting words are annoyingly pleasant and they drag you out of your daydream. “After all, if dear Korilla hadn’t been with you a few nights ago you’d probably still be a trapped little mouse in a cell.” He smirks, picking up his drink again and tilting the glass toward you. “Stealing wine, really?”
You decide to keep your mouth shut, something that you mentally congratulate yourself for. It was true that Korilla had been the one to free you from your dank cell. Which was a lucky thing; you didn’t want to hurt people while trying to break free, but it would have come to that if the warlock hadn’t intervened. Raphael watches you carefully, an easy smile on his handsome face, his confident casual air annoying you more than anything else.
“I will withdraw Korilla’s eye from your camp,” he says after a few minutes, his voice thoughtful, “if you give me something in return.”
Of course. You sigh. What did you expect?
“I’m not giving you my soul just for that, Raphael,” you scoff. “If I wouldn’t take one of your deals for the hammer then I certainly won’t trade it just to stop your little dog from following me around.”
“I wouldn’t dream of asking such a thing,” he says smoothly, ignoring your little jab about Korilla. “I desire a mere trifle. Inexpensive!” The devil laughs, a warm pleasing sound that has your lips twitching and skin flushing despite yourself. “I promise you won’t even miss it.”
You frown. What did you have that he would want? Soul coins, perhaps? But surely Raphael couldn’t know you had some in your possession, could he? But also they weren’t inexpensive…not in the least. What in Balduran’s name could he possibly want from you?
“What?” you ask, eyes narrowing.
He tuts. “You really do need to acquire some manners, little mouse. Too much scurrying around with scoundrels and vagabonds.” He sighs, taking a sip of his drink before grabbing a different bottle. You watch him uncork it with ease and pour the dark red liquid into a silver chalice. When he proffers it to you, your hands take it carefully. “Perhaps this may be more pleasing to your sensitive mortal palate.”
You watch the candlelight flicker over the wine before you bring it up to smell. Inhaling, you let the notes of cherry and plum assault your senses, the sweet richness of it utterly inviting. When you take a sip, you let it sit on your tongue for a moment to savour it before you close your eyes and swallow. You hadn’t had anything that good in…well, you don’t think you’ve ever had such a decadent wine before.
When you meet Raphael’s gaze again, you shift on your feet. Your fingers grip tighter on the stem, remembering where you are and who you’re talking to.
“It’s nice,” you say, idly swirling the glass. “Well, what do you want then?”
“Your knickers.”
There is no hesitation in his words, he shoots them out quickly and effortlessly—like Astarion would shoot an arrow. You nearly spill the wine in your shock. You’re certain you’ve hallucinated his words or perhaps this is a weird dream. Maybe you are still tucked in your bed at the Elfsong Tavern, dreaming about devils and their insanity.
“You want my what?”
“Your knickers,” Raphael repeats, his easy stare watching you as a multitude of emotions flicker over your face.
So you had heard him correctly. The man doesn’t even act like he’s asked for anything unreasonable. Disbelief has you standing there with your mouth agape. Is he trying to humiliate you? He must be. Was this some sort of strange ploy to get you to agree to his insane deal of the hammer for the crown?
“Why?” The word falls out of your mouth gracelessly, but you aren’t here to cater to Raphael’s want for proper etiquette.
“Why anything?” His voice is low and tinged with amusement as he finishes his drink. He leaves the glass on the credenza to walk closer to you, his hands gesturing as he continues to talk. “Why does the fox chase the hare? Why do little thieves steal wine? For the thrill?” He pauses, head tilting to the side as he regards you. He grins at you. “For pleasure?”
You despise the way he inflects the last word. It sends a rolling shiver down your spine.
“If you’re trying to humiliate me, consider it done.”
He feigns hurt, or you think he does, as he sighs dramatically. You wish he would he would dress himself back in his tunic again, or at least do up his shirt buttons as your eyes can’t help but flick to his exposed throat and chest as his shirt shifts with his movements.
“I would never dare dream of humiliating you, my dear.” Raphael's words sound sincere, but you do not trust him. He’s a devil. It’s like a constant mantra you have to repeat yourself. You are aware that devils can’t lie, but they can certainly bend the truth—just enough—so that it won’t break. “How it claws at my heart to hear you even utter such a thing.”
“I didn’t know you had a heart,” you retort.
“You wound me again, sweetling.” Hand over supposed heart, Raphael smiles. “Indulge me. I do not ask for much.”
It was true, it really wasn’t much. A heavy sigh and then you hear yourself utter a resigned, “Fine.”
It was ludicrous but you couldn’t see any harm in it. And he hadn’t produced a contract to sign—just a gentleman’s agreement, as it were. You were not going to tell any of your companions that you had traded your panties for some freedom. Nine Hells, you hoped you could sneak back into the tavern without them noticing. Perhaps the alcohol has loosened your resolve and has you acting so stupidly but you can’t see anything wrong with the arrangement. With another sigh, you ditch the wine on a nearby table before you turn to leave, but Raphael calls after you.
“And where are you rushing off to?”
“To the tavern,” you say, turning back to face him, “to fetch you your perverse prize.”
“No.” He takes a few steps closer and you catch that hint of spice and musk that wafts from him. “The ones you are wearing, little mouse.”
You suppress a shudder. He’s never been so close to you before, he’s manoeuvred himself into your personal space. The heat and power that radiates from him is intoxicating, more so than any drink upon your tongue, and you’re suddenly reminded of what he is underneath his welcome facade. Yet that doesn’t stop your mouth from opening.
“There are plenty of boutiques around here if you’re that desperate for some new lingerie, Raphael. No need to take mine.” You stick your chin out, matching his stare as you can’t help but add, “As lovely as I think you’d look in pink lace.”
The man’s face doesn’t change, the easy smile remains but you can see the brightness of his eyes—as if you can sense their true infernal nature behind his human disguise. He seems pleased with your reluctance to submit to him easily. Something that you hate to admit makes you pleased in return.
“Pink’s not really my colour,” he muses, fingers tapping his chin thoughtfully, “though I am sure the flush of it against your skin suits.”
Those words do not help you’re suddenly racing heart but you try to ignore his silver tongue. Shifting on your feet, you try to get your mind back in order. Your eyes dart around the room, searching for somewhere to change though there doesn’t appear to be anywhere.
“How I do enjoy watching the little wheels turn in that pretty head of yours.”
You glare at him. “Where can I change then, devil?”
He laughs and then spreads his arms wide. “Right here.” At the look on your face he continues, “You mortals are so easily flustered.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Please, as if I have not seen bare flesh before.”
Later, when you are tucked in your rented bed, you will blame the alcohol. But for now, you simply begin to undo your clothing, starting with removing your boots. He takes a mere step back, those eyes watching you the entire time until you are standing there in nothing but your underclothes. Feeling self-conscious, you feel the flush begin in your chest and work its way up your neck but you refrain from trying to cover yourself up and stand there with your hands by your side as your body tenses. The look on his face hasn’t really changed, but again there is something behind the eyes. A reaching hunger. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you, can devil’s see a soul? Does it call out to him and do his hands itch to pluck it free?
Raphael walks behind you and instinctively you go to turn but his warm hands reach out to hold your shoulders, keeping you where you stand and your toes scrunch at the soft rug beneath to curb some of the tension now beginning to coil in your gut. The lingering touch as he holds you burns into your skin, not due to his infernal nature—though you do sense that he feels rather warm than a regular man—but due to the way your traitorous body reacts to his touch.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“I just want to remember you as you are now, before your flesh is torn asunder by writhing tentacles.” His hands slide down your sides, leaving a trail of gooseflesh and a horrible twinge of arousal. “Before your lovely skin is slippery with mucus and…” he leans in and you feel the tip of his nose behind your ear making you shiver, “you lose that delectable scent.”
You can feel the deep rolling timbre of his voice against your skin. You are too aware of him behind you, your muscles tense as you try to resist the entirely too tempting urge to step back into him.
“I am not giving you the crown.” You manage to utter the words though they come out in a whisper. But you are still somewhat proud that you can utter them at all.
“You will.” His fingers touch your neck and you can’t suppress the shudder. “I see your little vampling has taken a bite.”
You twitch as the soft pad of his finger grazes against the puncture wounds on your neck.
“It helps him fight better.”
His hum in response tickles your neck but you refrain from responding. What would you say? That you like letting the vampire feed on you occasionally? That the searing flash of pain mixing so deliciously with the heady feeling of Astarion drinking from you is unlike any sort of pleasure you’ve experienced before? No. The devil did not need any details.
“I’m sure it does.” Raphael's words float against the shell of your ear and you are momentarily aware that you have a literal devil hovering by your shoulder.
The pad of his finger once more traces the puncture wounds from Astarion’s bite. It feels like a bolt of magic whenever he touches you, though the shock of it is far too pleasant and it goes straight between your legs. Your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth but you manage to unstick it just as he pulls away.
Raphael moves around you until he is once more facing you. You feel flushed, far too aware of how your pulse is thudding in your neck, yet he looks perfectly calm and collected, breathing even and standing there as if you were merely discussing the weather. When he drops to his knees before you, you want to scream but you are too transfixed at the sight of him before you. You can barely think when his hands reach up towards your underwear. You stare dumbfounded, some part of you still blaming it on the alcohol, as you watch his long, elegant fingers trace the pattern of lace by your hip.
“They do look lovely on you, little mouse, a pity.”
You find your tongue again and manage to mutter, “I can undress myself.”
“I’m sure you can,” he purrs. You wish you could cast Silence on him. “But what sort of man would I be if I didn’t lend a helping hand?”
Quickly you look away, face burning in embarrassment as your mind easily imagines how helpful said hand could be. He really shouldn’t be allowed to speak in such a way. Did he cast some kind of spell on you? Did he put something in that drink? Or were you just simply this spellbound by him—perhaps not something to dwell on, you decide. You feel his warm breath against the top of your thigh as his fingers slide up under the band of your knickers at your lack of response. You realise you’re holding your breath as he slides the lace down your legs. You risk a glance down but quickly flick your eyes away—his face is far too close to your bare sex. If he moves his head even slightly you know you will feel his breath on your cunt.
Standing there, you wrestle with the idea of stepping back or just blasting him in the face with a spell. Not that you are very good with spells. But damn does his touch feel nice, his hands are so damn warm and soft as he oh so fucking slowly slides your underwear down. Raphael hasn’t said a word and it’s been at least a minute—that must be a record. The lace finally reaches the ground and he taps your ankle.
Wordlessly you lift a foot and his low response of, “Good girl,” has you desperately fighting to control your stupid dumb animal body’s response. Your fingers itch to steady yourself on his shoulder but you refrain…just. Luckily all your adventuring has improved your athletics and you’re determined not to give the devil the satisfaction of stumbling before him into a wanton heap.
His thumb slips under the fabric still hanging around your other ankle and tugs at it. You’d been staring at the wall straight ahead, eyes fixed on a portrait hanging in some ornate frame. But at the tug, you glance down and see Raphael staring up at you, that smug smirk plastered on his face. Could you get away with kneeing him in the face? Lords above, could you get away with yanking him by the hair (and it was such lovely hair) and between your legs? Both are tempting.
“Little mouse?” His voice is a long lilting drawl and he tugs again at your knickers.
You lift your foot quickly, again saving yourself from tripping over, as he slips it off your foot and stands. You stand there a moment, dazed. Your skin still feels like it is on fire, he must be able to smell your arousal…you can. And you can see the way his nostrils flare as he stands and you watch the devil bring the pink lace up to his face and inhale. Now would be a great time for the Elder Brain to try and shake free of its bonds, you think.
“Did you just—”
With a snap of his fingers, you're suddenly dressed. “Was that so difficult?”
“Why didn’t you just do that to take them?” you ask incredulously.
“Where would be the fun in that?” He straightens the lapel on your clothing and adds, “Remember, I will still be here when you are ready to admit you need me.”
You grit your teeth. “I don’t need the hammer.”
Those deceptively warm eyes regard you and he smiles again, making your hands itch. You can feel how wet you are between your thighs, and in that moment you realise that is not what he means. But you do not get a chance to speak as with a wave of his hand you find yourself disappearing in a flash of crimson-tinged ash before you are teetering on the steps of Sharess’ Caress in the warm evening air. That smarmy, panty sniffing, bastard. As you begin the walk back to the tavern, you tell yourself your frustration has nothing to do with the way he had touched you. Nothing at all.
When you return to the Elfsong, you attempt to sneak past the group as they eat around a large wooden table. Of course, you can’t get past Shadowheart, the cleric spotting you and instantly dragging you to the table. You slide in, squished between her and Gale as she begins to question where you’ve been.
“Nowhere,” you say with a dismissive shrug, proud of how natural it sounds as you grab a bread roll and try to ignore the lingering throb between your legs. ”I just went for a walk.”
You feel eyes on you and look up into the knowing gaze of Astarion. “A walk, darling?” He leans in across the table and you see his nostrils flare. “An exhilarating one, I take it?” He sniffs again. “Climb any cherry trees on your…walk?”
#.writing#sneef sneef#lmao this is so dumb#bg3 fanfic#bg3 raphael#raphael bg3#raphael x reader#raphael x tav#but it was fun#baldurs gate fanfiction#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction
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After Dark | Part One
He wanted your fire to surround him in the crowd and burn him slowly.
pairing: female stripper!reader x modern!osferth | some moments of finan and sihtric.
warnings: smut, p in v sex, tiddy sucking, oral sex (m receiving). English is NOT my first language. 4,1k of words.
after dark masterlist
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A black cape and a crown-like prop was all that could be seen of the woman on stage, making Osferth even more anxious for whatever happened next.
He was a virgin in this, in this kind of environment. Throughout his life the thought of being in a den of carnality was never considered, his religiosity more fervent than most of the people with whom he lived acted as a wall to avoid such a path, however, there was no guilt or shame in his chest at that moment, just a natural embarrassment to be exposed to such a scope. He was a good boy, very polite, humorous, witty and with good social skills, but when it came to going further with girls the scenario was different, scarier, shy and sloppy.
His first time was with a girl in college. She was sweet enough to guide the rhythm, they all guided the rhythm with him — which Osferth found very satisfying. He learned that he liked the lady in control, showing how, when and where he should touch her. In addition, his position was easier than taking control and having to concentrate so as not to end up too fast. He was a shrewd little shit in the end.
But none of that crossed his mind, not when all the lights went out again and an engaging melody echoed through the club making him mortally anxious and excited.
And then, exactly at the same time that the warm orange tone set fire to the stage and a male voice accompanied the instrumental, you were in full display to the audience with a wild posture. The cover that hid your body focused on the floor to reveal the simple black lingerie with props decorating both arms and a large yellow snake wrapped from his neck to his waist. You were absolutely stunning and sensual, especially when your hips began to move at a slow and seductive pace, almost graceful if you were not wanton, totally capturing his attention.
Watching her strolling in the night so white, wondering: Why It's only after dark?
Your eyes closed to sink in the music as you moved your body gently, handling the snake with a frightening naturalness even with the animal curling around your body. What if it suffocated you? Osferth thought dissuaded.
“Aye, mate, she seems to deal with snakes a lot,” Finan whispered without taking his eyes off the image of the woman ahead.
In her eyes, a distant fire lights, burns bright, wondering: Why it's only after dark?
And then when your eyes opened Osferth could swear that your irises were on fire, leaving your aura even more overwhelming than possible. You were not entangled in any poledance, which made your eyes travel along the audience with greater ease and stop in the direction of his. No, don't be stupid, she didn't look at me.
But he wanted it to be true. He wanted your fire to surround him in the crowd and burn him slowly.
Find myself in her room, feel the fever of my doom. Falling falling throught the floor, I'm mocking on the devils door.
And maybe Osferth's perception was right. Maybe you were really contemplating the young lamb ahead as a hungry louse, but that wasn’t an ordinary look, no, he felt almost invaded in his intimate space, as if you knew what he was thinking as you moved as gracefully as petals in contact with the wind. Not even when the other dancers collected the snake from your shoulders did the weight of your gaze soften, no, quite the contrary, your attention was clearly fixed on the central figure in front of the stage as you slowly floated on your bare feet.
Oh God, it couldn't be real.
Were you really coming towards him?"
In the dawn I wake up to find her gone, and a note, says: “Only after dark”.
Yes, you- No, I wasn't.
Moving a few centimeters to where Sihtric was, you went on to face him, dangerously approaching the threshold of the stage to caress him with your foot along his chest, abdomen and very close to his groin. "Can I, handsome?" You asked after stopping your movements and retreating your foot until you gently touched the base of the beer glass in front of it, receiving a positive nod. “Take it for me,” your order was firm and a little smooth. "Open your mouth."
After a few seconds, a feline and satisfied smile adorned your beautiful face when the Dane leaned over to receive the beer falling on a thread in his mouth, having his hair caressed during the process. “Such a good boy,” you praised him by handing him the glass to turn your attention to the young man next door.
Osferth's eyes sparkled when you stopped in front of him and moved your hips as you went down until your faces were level, leaving him redder than a ripe cherry. Your presence made his breathing fail and emitted enough heat to warm him on a harsh winter day, your firm and sweetnessous voice throwing a warm cloud towards him.
“Happy birthday, sweetie.”
"Thank you ma'am," he replied so quickly that he didn't realize the formal term. He's niver seen a woman like you before.
"Not so old yet, dear," you sent him the sexiest smile he ever received, apparently having fun with how disconcerted he seemed.
“He's just shy, sunshine,” Finan said with his accent thicker than usual.
Your attention was divided between the two men, looking at the Irishman while holding Osferth's chin with your warm touch. "Is he? I love shy little things," the savagery shone in your eyes, "especially when they are as handsome and blushing as you." You approached his face until your noses were touching.
His heart beat faster than a deer cornered by hunters and he was sure that if your lips kept shaving against his it would be even more difficult to hide the bulge between his pants. Maybe you had already noticed giving the open smile as you picked up the ballots that were thrown in your direction, getting up and walking to the central poledance. You took the prop off your head and threw it at the audience to the delight of them. Osferth was too static for his reflection to be fast enough to reach the object, luckily Finan was faster than the others and handed him over.
"Keep it."
Burning, burning in the flame, now I know her secret name. You can tear her temple down, but she'll be back and rule again.
Your movements were mesmerizing and precise, lavishing flexibility and sensuality to get him on his knees. When your feet touched the floor, you slowly sent your hands to your back towards the closure of the bra, looking at the audience that began to encourage your next act. He wasn't prepared for that. Especially when you looked at him and shook your head negatively. Several men howled asking to see your body, screaming, begging, making your laugh with malice and a hint of cruelty, denying them again
In my heart, a deep and dark lonely part wants her and waits for after dark.
Osferth realized that he wanted to feel the touch on his skin again, no, he needed to feel it.
After dark
He wanted your savage look only in his direction.
After dark
He wanted the overwhelming aura cornering him again.
After dark
He wanted everything.
God, he was lost.
“That's what I call a fucking show!” Finan's scream burst the bubble of lust that enveloped him, reminding him to breathe again.
Osferth never wanted so much to be subdued by a lady before. But unfortunately he was not the only one with the same thought and worried him even more when thousands of ballots were thrown in his direction.
“She's mine,” said a guy behind him.
"Not fucking. Leave that to me,” Finan said as he got up abruptly from his chair, going somewhere inside the club.
His mind was too stunned to reason what had just happened clearly, but he was warm and excited and it didn't matter if you slept with him just for the money, he wanted to have the damn experience. Fortunately Sihtric kept silent for a long time before asking Osferth what he had found, receiving a simple "It was good" from the blonde.
“I see,” the Dane laughed.
Of course he saw it, which in itself made him want to succumb.
“Where did Finan go?” He asked.
“Probably looking for your birthday present,” he replied bluntly, sending a very significant look.
What?
“What?” The youngest asked with wide eyes. Was he serious?
"Your birthday present," Sihtric repeated again, "You don't have to be nervous, she'll know what to do but I imagine it won't be cheap."
It wasn't a problem (depending on how much you were going to charge).
"What if she doesn't want to?" The question was genuine.
He took a long sip of what was left of his beer. “She is a stripper, wins who pays better and maybe someone pays better than Finan. I'm sorry for that."
Would you reject him? Yes, you could... but he wished so much that he didn't. It was anxious minutes waiting for the Irishman, his hands were sweating when he noticed other men going the same way as his friend went, however, only one of them came back faster than a man having his first time and made Osferth's heart accelerate.
“Come with me, quickly,” Finan almost dragged him from the chair down the same corridor. "They have rooms here, which turns out to be more expensive than the girl going to your house, but she was very clear about not going to cleintes' houses, ya see? Now, don't ask questions and enjoy the evening."
It was a lot to deal with in such a short time, but Osferth shook his head and asked:
“How much was it?"
"Don’t worry about it, she was very generous with ya."
"What do you mean?" His eyes narrowed.
"She's a premium girl and doesn't accept anyone. Logically, someone with our cash condition wouldn't handle it, but she liked ya. I'll still have to pay because of the percentage of the bosses, but it's much less than the whole amount," he explained as fast as he can given the proximity to the room, putting some packages of condoms in his pocket. “Now, go get her tiger. And I'll keep her crown,” he took the prop from the youngest's hands.
Being dropped in front of the door, Osferth took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall, arranging his hair and clothes before depositing fearful knocks against the door. Sweat accumulated in his hands and he wiping them on the side of his pants, taking a deep breath when his sweet permission filled his ears. The vision that presented you as soon as you entered the dark room with neon lights was of you sitting on the edge of the bed with a suggestive smile.
“Hi, sweet boy. Lock the door and come to me."
He almost cred towards you, stopping a few centimeters ago when you got up and stroked his cheek. "What's your name?"
His voice was flawed and nervous when answering: "It's Osferth, lady."
“Osferth. What a beautiful name,” you hummed. "What do you want me to do it?"
Everything. He wanted everything.
“I...” his neck warmed up when he tried to express what he would like to happen. His gaze fell on his feet in shame, unable to face yours for a long time. "I… I want you."
"Do you want me? How?” Your question was calm, with no intention of scaring you. “Physically? A conversation?”
“Physically.”
“Do you want me to take control, dear?"
Yes, for God's sake, yes.
“Yes, yes. I want it, please,” he begged with puppy eyes and a lovely pout.
A bright and satisfied smile shone in your features as you leaned against his lips.
“Okay sweetie, just relax, I’ll take care of you,” your hand circled the back of his neck while the other held the other side of his neck, starting a slow kiss that made his skin warm up.
His hands were surprisingly fast in wrapping your body and breaking any minimum existing distance, delighting in the radiated heat and the sensual way that your lips moved, your tongue asking for access to experience it calmly, but firmly, causing him a low moan when your fingers pulled some of the delicate threads from the nape of the neck. "Such a beautiful boy. I want to hear more where this sound came from."
Your lips connected again in a moist and sensual web that dissipated part of his apprehension. Osferth didn’t want to have sex with you because of Finan or any factor that could be associated, he wanted you because his desire consumed him with a burning and unknown urgency. He wanted you even more when your bold fingers climbed inside the shirt to throw it somewhere on the floor, caressing the milky skin with the tip of your nails and marking it with wet kisses along the jaw and neck.
Would people know what happened when they saw your claim about him? Finan and Sihtric for sure yes and he couldn't even care about the provocations he would hear.
Osferth returned to reality when your caresses stopped and your body went back to bed. "Take off your clothes for me, honey."
His neck warmed up again and he realized that you liked it a lot when he acted like a helpless sheep. He had a nice body, but it probably wasn't the coolest you've ever seen — he tought, made him even more shy.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of pretty boy, you're really good looking. Come here.”
He was sure from there that you were bewitching him like a succubus ready to devour him body and soul. There was no fear in the way he discarded his shoes and pants and went to meet him with the condom between his fingers.
"Good boy," you purred, pulling him into a demanding kiss as you sat on his lap, grinding in his bulge.
Holy J- you were a fucking provocation. His hands circled your waist and back, unconsciously (or consciously?) Encouraging your lascivious movements that made him grunt softly. “So precious, like a little lamb,” your hands pushed him lying against the mattress, kissing him sensually. Feeling bold and extremely aroused, Osferth requested access to your mouth with his tongue, gently leaning against you and moaning when you gently sucked the tip of his tongue. Your taste was citrus with a pinch of adocity and an alcoholic background, like a tropical drink. Your lips ran through the jaw, neck and velvety torso, leaving a moist trail of lust.
For a moment, when you pulled his underwear down with your teeth, he forgot to breathe properly.
“Has any girl go down on you before?” Your question brought him back to reality for a short time.
"N-no."
"Shame on them," licking your hand, you grabbed the base of his cock and masturbated him slowly. "You have such a beautiful cock." Oh heaven. Your hand was working so well, much better than any time he touched himself. "You want me to use my mouth, my sweet Osferth."
“Yes please, please.”
"Good boy."
Even absorbed, Osferth caught it when you took the condom and wrapped it in the length of it, lowering it with a smile on your face to grab it like a popsicle. He moaned loudly and held your hair instinctively but without pulling. It was almost heavenly to have your mouth taking him in such a provocative and wanton way, so intense that he almost came when you moved the velvety balls.
Your provocation continued by concentrating your tongue on the coated tip that leaked pre cum, involving the bulbous part and sucking while moving the length with your hand. He was sure he went closest to the sky and came back when your warm mouth took him deep and vibrated around him, making him hold your hair more firmly. “Don't. Wait. I'm gonna-“
"You have an hour with me, dear, do you think you can give me more than one?" Your question was tempting, especially with the malice in your beautiful face and the continuous movement of your hand. "I'd love to feel you inside me."
Oh fuck, that immediately sent him to an intense peak and faster than he planned, but so overwhelming and hot that his legs burned. How sinful of him was to associate what you did with something heavenly, when in fact it was a blasphemy to the sacred. His body was red and a little sweaty, strong breathing and terribly satisfied. No other good girl has brought him such euphoria before.
No good girl removed the used condom and pumped it with ypur expenses on the summit of pleasure.
You certainly weren't a good girl.
"Did you like it?" Your question came after a while, lying next to him and gently caressing the contour of his chest.
“A lot. I've never... never been so good."
Your eyes sweetened as you contemplated his figure, receiving a satisfied smile in response.
"You're so sweet." You leaned over to chastely kiss his lips. "Any girl would be lucky to have someone like you."
His cheeks blushed and he looked away in shyness. You were being so nice. Maybe that's why he didn't calculate his next words. "Why are you here?" Oh no, idiot, why would I ask something like that? Your regret was almost instantaneous. "You don't have to answer, I'm sorry, it was an intimate question, I'm sorry."
"No problem, it's not a tragic story or something," you laughed softly. "I needed money and I needed it fast. It's not as terrible as it seems, I usually don't need to fuck with customers to pay the bills and the dance is enough, but little things like you that can't be ignored, so I had to make exceptions. And you, why are you here?"
"I... it was my friend's idea, Finan. A bet actually I lost. I didn't imagine this would happen," he said meekly, heart warming with his revelation. "Don't you usually do that?" He asked. "That," he emphasized.
“No. Most customers are not attractive and I’m a demanding girl," you purred and leaned against his chest, smoothing his beautiful angular face. "And you're handsome."
"You’re very beautiful too," he smoothed your back and gave a chaste kiss on your forehead, which made you chuckle on his skin.
And then, against his will, you walked away and knelt on the bed, removing your bra to reveal your beautiful tits and massage them dramatically.
“Mm, I'd love to have your big hands on me. Do you want to touch me?"
Fuckin hell.
He almost jumped on the mattress to reach you, covering your soft breasts completely with both hands, squeezing, playing, experimenting, enjoying...
“You're so gorgeous,” he was practically drooling over your appearance. “Damn it.”
“Mmm,” you smoothed the soft and milky chest in front of you, delighting in the touch that was replaced by his mouth after begging you (unnecessarily) from the puppy's eyes to smear your skin.
Osferth delighted in her soft breasts, sucking and licking the halo with desire, vigor and tenderness, nibbling on the protruding and newly hardened beak, which made your eyes close with pleasure. You bit your lower lip and straightened his hair, letting him take his time in the insatiable desire for you. From the smeared breasts he climbed to capture your lips with fire and lust, exploring your mouth with vigor, sucking your tongue as he has never done with any girl before. He kissed your jaw, your neck and your stomach when you lay on the bed, stopping at the panty line.
“Can I take it off?” He asked quietly.
“Of course you can.”
If he wasn’t hard as stone before, your wet intimacy certainly did.
“Do you know where women like to be touched?” You asked sweetly.
“Yes.” He pressed his thumb on your pearl, “here, isn’t it?”
“Mmm, yes, but it’s not like that,” you held his finger and created circular movements with the ideal pressure on your clit, “it’s like that.”
Your hand went to his hardened cock, making him moan. “Such a beautiful cock,” you licked your lips, “get another condom.” And he was very quick to follow your order, giving a tasty view of his cute white ass.
A small strip of shyness enveloped him by placing the condom on his axis in front of you, but he cled back and hovered above your body.
“Do you want to take control?” You asked.
“No. I don’t want to,” he held your back and ass between the bed and turned your body over his, being caged by your thighs and arms.
“Good. I’ll treat you very well, good boy.”
He didn’t gasp so hard when your hands held him in relation to the first time, but when you sank into him slowly... oh boy, all the air in your lungs is gone. He was sure he had reached the apex of pleasure.
Eyes closed, mouth between open and red skin, a true vision for you.
“Let me take a time,” your voice was soft as you went down totally, moaning in unison. “Damn, you’re a big boy. I love that.”
Damn it. The slow pace of the warm hug made him whimper in drunkenness, holding your hips tightly and raising his legs, which tilted your body forward. Leaning your hands against his chest you started to assemble it properly, moaning well and enjoying the moment.
On the other hand, he, the lad was vocal and quite interactive by the way his hips hit a few times against your own, wanting more, needing more.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes,” he said between one moan and another, blond hair sticking to his forehead by sweat.
“Okay,” you bit your lower lip, riding it stronger and faster, sending it to a cloud of lust that consumed you with every movement.
The whole situation contributed to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed his body. Be it the snap between the hips that filled the room, or the delicious sounds you made and especially the wet grip of your femininity against him.
“Move your hips too dear, give me that, I know you want it.”
And he wanted it, oh how he wanted it.
Osferth accepted your request and standardized your movements, hitting harder against your pussy (still very kind) that he had already used on a girl before, muttering a bad word the heat of the moment as he did a few times in his life. But fuck it, fuck it, he needed it.
You jumped uninhibitedly and maliciously in search of the apex, moaning his name as his grip began to increase, his cock brushing in all the right places at a delicious rhythm that was almost blowing his mind. Your wet pussy was soozing the inside of your thighs and the base of his cock, increasing the wet and profane sounds.
“You’re so fucking big, I feel so full. I’m going to cum so well on your cock,” your dirty talk almost made you come with tense hips, moaning loudly, which you noticed immediately, touching your clit while the tension in your core increased from the constant friction. “Hed a little longer, dear, I’m close.”
The weight on his balls was too much, he felt that he would really explode when he came, concentrating as much as he can for it to happen after you.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck. That was so hard.
“Osferth, oh honey,” you squeezed him violently and his movements faltered when a hot and white wave crashed into your body and dragged you to the apex of pleasure. “Fuck.”
Fuck.
His hips crashed into yours for the last time right after your orgasm, filling the condom when cumming good and strong. It was totally heavenly.
He was floating in a cloud that erased all his thoughts except that moment.
You got up carefully and fell against his chest, lying next to him with a satisfied smile. “Did you like it, dear?”
He was panting and with a silly and wide smile, hugging you gently. “So much... so damn much.”
“Good. Get some rest, I want to make good use of the time we still have.”
═════════════════════
note: Sorry for the delay in publishing the chapter, the last few weeks have been terrible and stressful because of the finals.
— taglist: @gemini-mama @lexwolfhale @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @tssf-imagines @bel-bottoms
#osferth tlk#osferth x reader#osferth smut#osferth x you#osferth#osferth x fem!reader#tlk osferth#osferth x female!reader#smut fic#smut#finan#sihtric#stripper!reader
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Please pleaseee, modern!aegon who loves to overstimulate his girlfriend and loves to breed her. Thx🙏
Yes I can whip it up for you🫠 Sorry for the wait!!!! Thank you for the request sm mwah mwah kith! I want horny stoner college party animal chubby baby and his innocent little gf✨a little blurb hehe
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Overstimulation, breeding kink/creampie, marathon sex, one-sided high sex, sweetie recovering frat douche Aeg, college!au, chubby!Aegon, pnv!sex, oral (f!receiving)
Marathons
Aegon liked to party, be the center of attention, an attention whore. You liked to read, utilize the campus’ nature trails. Opposites attract is a saying but in your classes you’d learned it’s actually the opposite. Regardless of how differently social the two of you were, there was many shared loves.
He liked nature, reading about sappy love stories, and exploring abandoned places just like you did. You loved to cook and experiment with new foods, Aegon loved to watch you do that then eat all of the new food. He was very sweet under the layers of familial issues and shot out self esteem. The pair of you also loved to game, or you’d sit and watch him after making the fool study.
The cherry on top was your insatiable need to be fucking and sucking. Aegon a bit more so but you were delighted to indulge. He was the perfect cutie when all high and sluggish from his munchie induced snack binge, eating you out for what felt like hours on end.
Gliding aimlessly through social media, bottle of wine on hand, you curled up in the den of madness called Aegon’s room at the fraternity. The party boomed on downstairs, shaking the walls. He’d be back soon. Baby got too needy after too long. You’d imagine he was smoking a j then hitting the keg.
Over time you dozed off a bit…a cacophony of noises awoke you with a sleepy yelp. Aegon was…fucked up…but he still had some clarity about him. You murmured, wiping the sleep outta your eyes, “What’cha doing baby?” Aegon crawled onto the bed, spreading himself close and inhaling your scent. He purred into your ear, “Been needing you, got all hot thinking about you by yourself and wanted to play.”
Still sleepy you mumbled, “Wha’ time is it?”
Aegon’s plump lips caressed your ear, hands sliding up your lax thighs, “Don’t matter, want you babyyy.”
You sighed and instinctively lifted your hips, letting Aegon’s greedy hands tear them down, flinging the garment across his already disastrous room. His purple eyes were glazed in the dim light, boy was high as fuck. Which meant marathon fucking for your poor pussy.
You leaned up to unbutton his tight jeans, thumbing at the indent under his soft belly. Munchies, your cooking, and loads of beer did a number on his once svelte frame. Aegon breathed out in relief, tummy pooching out. You jerked down his underwear while the blonde tore impatiently at your thin tank top. He rambled, “Can’t, ugh, fucking believe you were just sitting up here like this.”
You pulled at a strand of blonde hair, teasing, “Those freshman girlies wearing the push-up’s did nothing for ya?” Aegon groaned, latching onto your sensitive nipple. Gripping his pretty blonde waves you undulated under him, rubbing against that thick fucking cock. He may not be the longest but god it hit all the right spots.
Aegon murmured between your perky tits, “Nah, want my girl. Hiding away, my little secret.” You kissed him passionately, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Nibbling downwards you bit at that cute softness below his chin, teasing, “Who knew Aegon Targaryen would be felled by the virginal honors student.” He gasped at your warm mouth, fingers tweaking your bud.
“Mh- ruined me for anyone else. Got me fat too you devil.” He pressed his soft belly into your frame for emphasis. Helplessly you moaned, “Ohgod- but it’s so cute Aeg. Love your belly.” His full lips smacked into your own, rutting against your wet sex with cut off grunts, breathing going ragged with the force.
Your tits rubbed against his softened chest, whining at the sensation. The kisses grew sloppier, lazier, wetter. Aegon always liked it messy anyways. Usually impatient— if your boyfriend was high he was lackadaisical and sensual. It strung you out to no end.
The blonde pulled away with a string of drool, rasping, “Lemme eat that pretty cunt dear.” You babbled, “Yes, yes, c’mon!” In a frenzy you pushed his tousled head down, Aegon giggling at your impatience. Once between your thighs he inhaled and groaned. Fucking pervert.
“You’re soaking already, naughty slut.”
Calloused hands from gaming spread you wide open, a broad tongue lapping your drenched pussy with a lurid slurp. He groaned, hips flexing against the unmade bed. You thrashed and squeezed your thighs when his sinful lips enveloped your clit, suckling and flicking his tongue. You yanked at his hair harder, crying his name. Aegon seemed to laugh and dug two fingers into your cunt, crooking upwards without warning.
You seized and tried to squirm away, Aegon’s free hand gripping you tight. He sucked harder, fingers flying, aiming to send you over the edge fast. Every other breath was you shouting and clawing desperately, orgasm threatening to knock you silly. He nipped at your swollen, oversensitive bud and your body snapped.
Eyes rolling, howling, and scratching his shoulders raw kind of orgasm. Going boneless, Aegon seized the moment to grab you by the hips and spear you on his cock, making you keen in pleasurable agony. It was too much, your nerve endings still alight. Aegon panted and haphazardly pushed back his hair, grunting, “Don’t cry yet baby, we’re just getting started.”
Oh but tears were streaming down your face, whining his name over and over. Aegon, Aegon, Aegon. The evil bastard. Your eyes rolled as his thick midsection rolled against yours, soft thighs slapping your own. He thumbed at your clit again, making you mewl and beg for relief. But you didn’t want this to stop.
Like he read your mind Aegon hissed, “Gonna keep fucking you all night til’ that pussy s’full of me. Being my good girl. Cry all you want baby, m’gonna stuff you up right.”
“Yes baby, please, all yours!”
Bringing the sun up with a leaking cunt and your boyfriend cooing over you might be the greatest feeling in the world. Besides your cunt being so sensitive you whimpered every other shift of your thighs. Aegon cooed and nuzzled you, belly plastered to your back. He kept his hand to your outer thigh, mindful of your overstimulated body. He kissed the shell of your ear, “My girl. Fucking divine you are.”
Thank the gods it was Sunday.
#aegon ii targaryen#hotd fanfic#aegon targaryen x reader#hotd smut#aegon ii x reader#chubby!aegon ii
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POV you barged into the Devil's Den.
teeny tiny ficlet under the cut
You don’t bother to knock when you reach the door with the little shiny plaque that says “Devil’s Den” in an ornate script. The door isn’t locked, so it swings open effortlessly when you barge in. The tirade ready to fall from your lips falters as the door closes with a soft click behind you; the hand you had raised in righteous anger pauses before limply falling to your side.
Raphael is lounging in one of the overly gilded armchairs that furnish the den, a glass of something that looks both incredibly alcoholic and expensive dangling from one hand as he regards you with that infuriatingly knowing smile. None of that is why the cat suddenly has your tongue; it's that he has shrugged off the outer layer of his clothing and sits there with his white shirt unbuttoned. The view of his bare chest isn't a particularly novel sight - after all, you share a camp with several people, and some - like a certain large elf - enjoy being one with nature on any occasion they can get. It's more of a shock to see Raphael in such a state of undress; it would be a lie to say you had never considered what lay beneath his neatly tailored clothes. But you would have bet money that Korilla stitched him into them every morning to make sure they stayed perfectly in place. Right now he looked so...deliciously dishevelled.
“My, my," comes his amused voice, "does the squirming tadpole hinder your manners as well, little mouse?” The gentle timbre of his voice washes over you and it's enough to snap your attention to his face. “Or have you always been an uncouth little beast that flounces in without knocking?”
You frown at him, your irritation flaring up again. Your fingers flex - though not in a fit of pique but because your mind has been lost to the thought of running your fingers through the hairs on his tanned chest. That bloody distracting devil. Why did you come here again?
"Did you come all this way to gawk like a gutted fish or did you have something you wished to say?" He raises a brow, tipping his drink towards you. "If you wish to stare, I am, of course, happy to oblige - though that will cost you. This establishment operates on a quid pro quo basis, you know."
edit: i ended up writing the rest and you can read it here
thank you to @angellayercake for the idea!🖤🖤
#bg3#bg3 raphael#raphael the cambion#baldur's gate raphael#my-art#my writing#i just have a lot of feelings#about his chest#in particular#raphael x tav#raphael x reader#i literally wrote this on tumblr so yeah#we ball#lmao
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