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#dnd smut
sorchathered · 1 month
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As you wish
Summary- Bob, Mickey and their girlfriends go on an adventure to the local renaissance faire, but how can Bob be expected to keep his hands or thoughts to himself when you look like the fairy princess of his wildest dreams?
Pairing- Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader
Warnings- language, drinking, smut, knife play if you squint.
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It was probably the hottest day of the summer, but that hadn’t deterred any of you from gearing up in your painstakingly hand crafted costumes and caravanning down the highway to Escondido for the Renaissance festival. Fanboy and his girlfriend and you and your newly minted fiancée Robert Floyd had been playing dnd with a group in Coronado for about 2 years now, that’s how all of you had met. You were putting signs up for the new campaign at the library, and Bob happened upon the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, feet carrying him to the bulletin board before his brain caught up with what he was doing. He’d been shy but charming, and you had enthusiastically convinced him to join your group later in the week to try it out. He’d never played before but he new for sure that Mickey had, so with a little (a lot) of begging and promises to buy his beers at the Hard Deck that weekend, the both of them turned up at the community center in Coronado to join the band of misfits they would soon call a second family.
It had turned out to be the best decision he’d ever made if he was honest, the two of you had gone out for coffee after the first meeting and had been inseparable ever since. Two years later and he would follow you anywhere, you were quite literally like a fairy, full of bright energy, quick witted and downright ethereal with your wide shining eyes and angelic features, he truly didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky. You’d kept your costume a secret all month, carefully curating little bits and pieces and as you crossed the threshold into your bedroom he had the thought to just stay home and ravish you all day. A beautiful green peasant dress was split at the hip, the skirt frilly and flowing down past your knees, with a beautiful laced up corset starting at your waist and pushing your cleavage impossibly high on your chest, he was definitely salivating and couldn’t seem to snap out of his trance until you skipped over and tapped his nose. “Hmm? What? I’m sorry baby, what did you say?” He wasn’t subtle at all and you giggled as you leaned into him to pepper kisses along his cheeks and slotting yourself between his thighs. “I take it you like what you see my strong, powerful warlock…buuuut I don’t think we have time for what you have in mind so get dressed handsome it’s time to go!” You say with a laugh as you step out of his arms and skitter down the hall with a cackle. Good Lord, he was going to lose his mind watching you all day, as he heaved himself off the bed he heard you holler down the hallway, “oh and baby just wait until you see my wings!” He groaned again at the thought and trudged to the bathroom to take an ice cold shower, grumbling about his temptress fairy princess and how he’d rather stay home.
You couldn’t have had a better time if you tried, somehow you and Mickey’s girlfriend Lana had convinced the boys to dress up as well, and you both had to admit there was something to be said about watching them walk around in billowy shirts looking like they’d just stepped out of a Tolkien novel. The boys were having the time of their lives, drinking ale from giant wooden tankards and consuming their weight in turkey legs, while the two of you girls bought glittery potion bottles and crystal necklaces from the local vendors. Finally heading home as the sun went down you peeked through the rear view at the drunken rogue and warlock passed out in your backseat and giggled, you just hoped Bob would be alert enough for what you had planned for the evening when you got home.
After safely depositing Lana and Mickey at home, your knight in shining armor clambered into the front seat, bright eyes full of mirth as he looked you over, his fingers had been itching to loosen your corset strings all day and if he was honest he was a little hard at the thought of letting you ride him with nothing but your fairy wings on. You fortunately were on the same page, impatiently ushering him through the doorway and down the hall as you groped at him and sucked on his tongue, you’d always wanted to role play as your characters but had been too scared to ask, but now looking at Bob’s flushed cheeks as he toyed with the laces of your corset you knew he was absolutely into this.
“Can I help you handsome? See something you like?” You said as you turned in his arms, looking up at him through your lashes and rubbing your body all over his. “Fu- I- I see a lot of things that I like my lady, think you should show me what’s hiding under this gown, can’t be too careful can I? Fairies are known for their trickery.” He says as he leans in to suck a mark behind your ear and begins unlacing your corset, tantalizingly slow as he continues to nibble at your neck and collarbone, nimble fingers untangling the laces and smoothing over exposed skin as your dress begins to loosen and slip from your frame. “I don’t know what you mean sir, we fairies are a peaceful lot, I would be a fool to try and get the upper hand on such a strong, powerful warlock such as you” you say with a cheeky grin, sliding the dagger you’d bought today from your thigh holster and pressing it into his side. “Hmmf, exactly like I said, tricky business dealing with fairies” he huffed out a laugh and raised his hands, letting you lower him to his knees in front of you. You switched to your normal voice as you lifted his chin, stroking the stubble that you always loved him to have on the weekends. “What’s your color baby?” “Green, so so fucking green, You’re a dream come true you know that?” He said as he smoothed calloused palms across the back of your thighs, taking your thumb into his mouth and sucking it, drawing a whimper from you as you nodded furiously at him.
“If you wanted to check me for weapons all you needed to do was ask, but since I have you on your knees, why don’t you put that smart mouth to task on something useful” you said you hooked your leg over his shoulder and pulled him close to your core, as fun as the banter had been you were wound up and needed him to touch you. He ran his nose along your underwear, teasing you with little nips to the side of your thighs and pulled back to look at you again, disappointment crossed your features and he chuckled and pinched your ass from under your skirt. “I think you might want to roll for persuasion sweetheart, I could draw this out a little longer if I’m honest, but I wouldn’t be opposed to you begging for it.” You blinked down at him a little stunned, that cocky son of a bitch, he knew exactly how to play you. “Oh- oh that’s mean. Fine. Give me your dice then, I know you bought new ones today.” He definitely did buy a new set today, and he would be lying if this wasn’t absolutely hilarious to him so he pulled them from his pocket and placed them in your hand, throwing his head back and laughing at the irritated look on your face as you shook the dice and tossed them at his feet. “Ha! D20! You heard me Warlock, put that silver tongue of yours to good use or I’ll cut your throat where you stand.”
You feigned irritation but you’d get what you wanted, you both knew he’d never tell you no anyways, he ran his hands over your thighs again and began to slide your underwear down your legs, letting it dangle off the leg hanging from his shoulder and set to work, licking a stripe through your folds as he looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. Fuck he was always so good at this, eating at you in earnest as you ground against his face and tugged his hair, making out with your cunt and moaning into you like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Oh, oh fuck I’m there just like that” you breathed out and came hard on his tongue, he didn’t stop until you were overstimulated and pushing at him to stop, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and pulling himself up to grope your chest and kiss you. “What do you want my sweet fairy princess? I’m at your service my love.” “Want you to fuck me, need you inside me, claim me.” He was pretty sure you were trying to kill him, it wasn’t even his birthday and you were giving him his wildest dreams, he pulled the rest of your dress and corset off as you clawed at his shirt and pants trying to strip him down to nothing. Finally free of clothes his eyes roamed over you, you were perfect in every way but he still couldn’t get that one thought out of his head so he stepped around you to grab the wings you’d dropped and held them in front of you. “Can’t get it out of my head, what do you think baby? Ride me with the wings on?” He had the gall to look a little sheepish as his cheeks heated up, you’d never get over just how damn cute he was, he could be downright filthy but this is somehow what caused him to get shy on you. You slipped your arms through the holes and shoved him backwards into the bed climbing onto him and sliding his hard cock into you, rocking slowly with him as he sucked on your chest, pulling a nipple into his mouth as you cried out, oh God were you close again already? Shit maybe you two needed to start doing this more often, you felt like you were buzzing with electricity with every thrust, the small thatch of hairs at the base of him grazing your clit deliciously as you came hard for the second time, sending him tumbling over the edge with you as his teeth sank down into the juncture of your neck, painting your walls with his spend.
He made to roll you onto your back but you made him wait, your wings were expensive and you didn’t want him to crush them, so you slid them off and let them hit the floor, rolling him on top of you as you continued to kiss lazily. “Damn this could be a problem” he said with a grin and you looked up at him puzzled, “how am I ever supposed to go to dnd on Fridays with you when all I can think about is you rolling a d20 so I’d eat you out.” You both couldn’t stop your giggles, and when Friday rolled around and your DM suggested Bob roll for persuasion, you couldn’t help but giggle and wink at him, thinking about taking him home and donning your pretty wings for him again and how it should definitely become a regular event.
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Divider by- @strangergraphics
Tagging- @attapullman @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @roosterforme @withahappyrefrain @floydsglasses @sebsxphia @pinkdaisies9285 @hangmansgbaby @sugarcoated-lame @teacupsandtopgun
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mechaknight-98 · 4 months
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Party Time (NSFW): Session 0 FT: Dahyun
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Author's note: For this chapter, I will be changing the character perspective of this story slightly. the characters will still be the same however I wanted to try something different. As I learn more I'll probably come up with a much better way of writing the characters and differencing between them.
PreSession 0
You were blared awake by your ringtone Our Song by Silverstein. you looked around confused to see what was going on when you picked up your phone to see it was a call from Atticus. you grab your phone and answer,
"Yo, what's up?"
"It's session 0 of our Uber campaign today," Atticus responded. "Don't tell me you forgot Mordekai." You groan because you had an alarm that was set to go off in 4 minutes.
"Atticus Why are you like this? Look I know you are anxious but you beat my alarm by 4 minutes. I was going to be there."
"But you said you didn't have a character."
"Yeah because I was going to choose based on what everyone else was."
You rub your face before responding, "Dude I just got off work. I don't have the patience for this conversation I'll talk to you in a bit."
"Okay see you soon, and get here safe. As..." Atticus began
"Yeah I know My safety is a priority," you respond
finishing Atticus' statement, and hanging up. "Ahhhh. you groan." knowing you lost the last 4 minutes you get up and start your character. when you start getting deeper into the build your alarm goes off and you begin the rush to get ready. You shower, brush your teeth, and leave to go. Unsurprisingly you are early. Atticus is happy to see you and asks to see your character sheet.
Atticus looks at your character sheet and groans before asking, "Monty...Why is there only a Name and a Class?"
"Well, I figured we could hash out more of the details when it came time, Like what subclass and what race?" You begin. Atticus looks at you annoyed before you qualify the statement with, "I don't want to encroach or step on toes and I know people don't play Monks all that often." You say
Atticus shrugs in understanding, "Okay Fair. How about this then You play the Avatar Race."
"the Avatar race? Never heard of em." You say flatly
Atticus laughs as he explains "Well that's because it's a race I made specifically for this campaign."
"Okay so what's it do?" you ask intrigued to play a new brew of Atticus'
Atticus pulls out a little cheat sheet with the races he had available, "Well it's simple. It's just a generic humanoid in all aspects that is just molded to your character. they gain; +1 to three ability scores, a Feat, A language, and a skill."
"that's a lot." You exclaim
"On paper sure but ultimately not really because those +1s are so marginally good." Atticus elaborates
You roll your eyes before saying"Well if I roll a bunch of odd numbers it's pretty good, or do point buy."
"Oh about that. so to ease everyone into the game we are doing actual character-building with our physical selves. so how good you are at things determines your actual stats." Atticus explains
"Huh?" You ask
"Yeah," Atticus affirms
"That's dumb and I love it Atticus." You say
The door to Atticus's home opens and you hear a tiny voice say "Hey Atticus my Unnies are on their way." you turn around to see Dahyun of Twice. You quickly turn back to Atticus who you look at.
"Hahaha." is Atticus's only response. you blink slowly and turn to face Dahyun.
"Wow like you are way prettier in person," you say to her Seeing her gorgeous face up close and not separated by a distance of several thousands of feet. Dahyun smiles at you with the most adorable smile.
"I like your necklace," Dahyun replies shyly. you smile at her.
"What are you playing?" Dahyun asks
"Oh I am just playing an Avatar monk, and you" you reply. You notice Atticus smirks and when Dahyun goes to grab his character sheet you shoot him a furious look.
"Oh Changeling Blood Hunter."
you raise your eyebrows surprised and reply, "Impressive." Dahyun was listening intently
Dahyun blushes slightly then smiles and says "Thank you"
"Great my two Chingu are getting along great Atticus says happily
Dahyun looks at you surprised "We are the same age?" you nod. She eases and replies "I thought I'd be the youngest."
"Nope, I believe that is David who is one year younger than us," you answer Dahyun nods and eases into you more. You smile at her and say “Excuse me miss. Are you trying to charm me?”
Dahyun gives you her dazzling eye smile and says, “Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it?” you are taken aback by her boldness. You lift your hands in surrender, which causes Dahyun to laugh heartily.
The door opens again and Dahyun and you jump upon hearing it, taken out of the little world you two found yourself in. You turn to the door to see a young lady with pink hair apologizing profusely “Sorry for scaring you.” she says meekly. Dahyun and you quickly work to attempt to diminish the fears of the young girl as you both wave off her apology citing that you and she should have been paying attention. The girl smiles and hugs Atticus. You tilt your head but say nothing. The young lady then turns to the two of you and says “Hi I'm Jeewon nice to meet you.” Dahyun and you both wave at the girl. When she asks your names
“Mordekai. but everyone calls me Monty,” you say
“Dahyun” Dahyun adds Jeewon smiled brightly as she sat next to the two of you.
"So what are the the two of you playing ?" Jeewon asks brightly
"Avatar Monk," you answer
"Changeling blood hunter." Dahyun follows suit
You clap your hands in approval, "Ooh it gets sexier each time you say it." you say hyping up Dahyun who turns to you and blushes. she hits you and says "Stop it" but her gaze tells you not to stop.
"Are you two dating?" Jeewon asks intrigued.
"Nah we went on one date." You answer. Dahyun looks at you confused.
"Wait...Mountain?" Dahyun says as she realizes who you are. You smirk at Dahyun who smiles at you further. Atticus laughs when he makes the connection that when the two of you did that Rugby tournament a few years back and you said you had a date with a pretty girl was with Dahyun, but before anything else could be said the door opened again and a very bright voice crashed.
"Sorry, I am late. Traffic was really bad" A cheery voice says. As the group turns you see Sana skip into the living room. Sana recognizes you instantly and smiles
"Mordekai! How are you cutie?" Sana says as she envelops you in a clumsy hug.
"I am good noona, how about you?" You reply to Sana
"Oh, you know. being the prettiest in Twice is tough." She said
"Oh come on you know Dahyun's the prettiest." You counter
Sana feigns a pout before smiling at you and giggling. She took her seat next to Dahyun. After that, the rest of the "Party" fills in which includes members from Red Velvet (Irene and Seulgi), one from Twice (Nayeon), and surprisingly one member of Dreamcatcher (Handong). There are also four more guys who show up in this order David, Timothy, Alan, Kento, and Charlie. As more people show up you introduce yourself and appear friendly enough, but for the most part you stick to Dahyun and Atticus (When he's not swooning over Jeewon) as Dahyun speaks the best English and you know her the best. Eventually, Nayeon approaches you and says "Hey so we have a playlist featuring a song dedicated to everyone's character. Do you have anything in mind?
You scour your mind trying to find something but as it goes blank the choice rises from that.
"Power to Tearer." You reply. You notice Kento and Sana look at you as Nayeon nods.
"got it. I'll add it" she says.
Sana slinks over to you, "That's an interesting choice for a Character-inspired song."
"Well I figure this is the only place where it will be appreciated and understood," you reply. Sana smirks.
"You're pretty interesting Monty." Sana coos with a mischievous smirk, that worries you.
After y'all mingled for several minutes Seulgi stepped to the front and said, "Okay now that everyone knows each other partner up and each one of you give backstories for your characters."
you turn to Atticus but when Dahyun claims you as her partner. She seems anxious so you smile and say "Okay" to her.
"So what basic things would you like for me to include?" you ask Dahyun
"I want you to use your best judgment." Dahyun says and you give her a thumbs up and say, "Do you have any idea for a character name?" Dahyun shakes her head before saying just use her name. You nod and when Dahyun asks you the same questions your only response is the name, Montaigne. Dahyun gives you a gummy smile and gives you two thumbs up. you both begin spinning tales about the other as you write. you find yourself connecting with Dahyun more and more as you start looking at her and noticing her little ticks like how she puts her hair in front of her face when she's embarrassed or when she drops something the repeats "Oh mo mo Oh mo mo." It helps you write a more authentic Dahyun (the character)
After you two finish up Seulgi notices and says "OH Dahyun and..." She gestures to you and you give her your name. "Mordenkainen?" Seulgi asks for clarification.
"Mordekai." you clarify Seulgi nods focused and asks for you two to give your partners' backstory. You nod. seeing Dahyun's anxiety you go first.
You stand up in front of the party and muster all the confidence you can," Gather around as I tell you the tale Of Dahyun the Blood Hunter..." You hesitate and turn to Atticus. "Hey, What's the name of the World Again?"
"Daebak" Atticus answers
"Cool." You say to Atticus
"Not Cool, it Daebak" Atticus teases
"I freaking hate you." You reply
"Coming to Paradise from her small religious home of Songnam the changeling knew little of the big city but her hopes for reaching the big time brought the young changeling girl to join a traveling dance group where her comedic skills and quick wit brought her quicker fame, but what captivated people was her even larger heart. despite being a relentless flirt and tease no one could ever stay mad at her. She brought smiles and laughs everywhere she went regardless of her previous disposition there. this kindness was so profound in fact that all who interacted with her had to be careful not to fall under her charms lest be driven to be one of her many admirers, but there is more to the small Changeling. She is feisty and a passionately hard worker who hones her skills and her beliefs on every test she receives and usually passes with flying colors, but why does she do this? What is Dahyun's true motivation? Dahyun's motivations are simple. she wishes to leave the world better than she left it, and do her family and her community proud in her adorable and sometimes clumsy way." You say. Dahyun smiles before clapping. Everyone besides Dahyun, Jeewon, Timothy, Seulgi, and Atticus Looks at you a bit confused. You shrug and hand your notes to Dahyun who says to you "Thank you. I love it." you smile mission accomplished. She stands up courageously and says
"The Hero of Sunrise, The King of Beasts, The Sword of Ruin, the Shield of Restoration, The master of Arms, The Gentle Fist, The War God's Instrument, and The Wiziend One are all titles garnered by The warrior Known as Montu. (You blink thrice at her name, but you smile regardless) Forced into the fight at an early age against all kinds of monsters and Mayhem. Montu grew up quickly adapting and finding his style along the way, but he never lost that spark of wonder that drove him to be larger than life. However in those soft eyes and that Joyous personality hides a sadness and a darkness that desires the destruction of all around him who would disturb his "Endless party".He fights, loves, laughs, and Lives for thrills, but is kind and considerate. He surrounds himself with joy and life. He desires the people around him to feel loved and valued, but beware because he will face any odds and destroy any obstacle to win. Proof of this is when he killed 1,000 men in a battle to secure his home from an invading force. He is a man of Duality. A man of Great Honor and equally Great Ruthlessness. He is confusing but what I can say about him is that he is a Legend in the making that lives up to all of his titles." Dahyun says then you assume she repeats the same thing in Korean. Everyone looks at you surprised to hear Dahyun's backstory for you. You thought you were going to be a normal pit fighter but her words inspired you to be more, but that's just who Dahyun was anyway. you got up and hugged her there were woos and hollers but you didn't care you just carried out the hug and smiled at Dahyun before saying thank you to her. The smile you garnered was the softest yet brightest one yet. You sat down as an energetic Nayeon and Charlie got up
Atticus translated the much less intensive Backstories for you, "Nayeon was a farm girl who rose to prominence performing with Sana and Dahyun, Chrom (Charlie) was a Privateer of the Paradisan Crown. Seulgi was a sorcerous whose power awoke after Her parents informed her of an arranged marriage. So on an Impulse, she and her Tutor Irene left the Kingdom of Paradise and worked adventurer jobs to bide their time. The arranged marriage in question was a Plasmid prince named (Timothy) Thordak who was more interested in Courting the powerful Goliath Herd leader named Handong. Handong was currently visiting Paradise to negotiate Peace talks between her nomadic herd and the crown, but also to meet her Friend The Harekin Warlock Sana, who worked with Dahyun and Nayeon. Her pact with The Powerful Archefey led to several chaotic encounters including A wizard student Named Alan (Alan) who was currently working a magic shop with an Orc Artificer named Demyx (David), and a Twin soul Echo Knight and Captain of the Kingdom Guard named Kaido (Kento)." all that was left was Atticus and Jeewon's backstory.
Jeewon stood up nervously and began her account of Achilles’s (Atticus) backstory it wasn't in English but you were able to manage a few pieces like exiled child warrior, on the run, and very powerful. after that Atticus did Jeewon’s and you kinda spaced out as your brain just couldn't take any more information. After that, Alan stood up and said “Now for the test of strength.” we followed him to the garage where several weight stations were set up.
“The rules are simple we are maxing out on lifts today.” Atticus translated for you. You nod but when Alan turns to you and Atticus he says in clear English
“Not you two. You two will “spot” us. You're both set at 18.” Atticus and you looked at each other sad but understanding why. So over the next hour Atticus and you worked to help the others with their test of strength. No surprise that the top ones were Nayeon and Handong for the girls and Kaido and Chrom for the guys. The next test was one you could participate in and was led by Dahyun. it was the test of Wisdom. The test was simple we have a product we know is less than Ideal on release but need to sell it to gain the capital to sell more how do we sell more products? Most of the responses you heard were good. some on the more shady side but still good nonetheless, but a lot of them failed in a very simple manner from your perspective. None of them mentioned lowering the price. So when it was your turn you gave that as your major first answer and then was honest about everything after that, which led to silence in the group until Dahyun wheezed and said, "FINALLY someone said lowering the price." you blinked three times before Dahyun smiles at you and says "Good answer." you nod confused but accepted the compliment.
The rest of the tests follow this structure and you place well in most so when you get your Ability score distribution you are pleasantly surprised to have all positive scores, but as you looked over everyone else also had higher scores so you don't get too stressed about it. after finishing up basic character design and the like All that's left is to start the game.
session 0
You woke up to another day in Paradise. It was a cool Spring morning which led you to eat on the patio of the inn you were staying in. You ordered a simple breakfast that consisted of egg, pork, spinach, tomatoes, rice, and a couple of pastries you didn't recognize. While you are a very tall and very attractive Goliath woman approached you.
“Hey you are Montu right?” she asks you nod hesitantly until you recognize her
“You Handong you won the tournament yesterday. Congratulations hope the 2,500 gold and magic great sword are to your liking,” you reply. Handing smirks and nods.
“I am surprised that you only wanted third.”
“Well, I have been looking for a bag of holding, and getting third fighting random people seemed like a reasonable way to do so,” you answer. Handing laughs
“You are silly well see you around,” she says. You nod and tell her
“We are all silly in this crazy world, and I wish you well as you navigate it.” Handong chuckled as she walked away from you. After breakfast, you go to the celebration event in the palace where you meet the Queen, King, and Princess of Paradise along with other visiting leaders. You relax at the party by finding a high and dry area (you despise alcohol and its many debilitating effects) while on a balcony one of the performers approaches you. A changeling with jet-black hair and two short blue horns growing from her forehead approaches you timidly.
"Well hello there." you greet the timid changeling without turning around.
the changeling approaches next to you and says, "You are missing quite the party down there."
You shrug and reply, "Well I prefer my celebratory engagements more intimate, and with less show."
the changeling smiles at you and says, "I know a spot that might fit your tastes?"
You turn to the changeling and say, "Oh really tell me more."
The changeling grabs you and states "It's better if I show you.", As the changeling drags you, you ask her name she says "Dahyun," and you smile as you follow her out of the palace where the celebration is occurring.
With that, she whisks you away from the garish and loud party to the base of the hill that borders the capital city's edge. It's a quaint town that is quiet and peaceful. You turn to the changeling and say, "This is more my type of engagement." The changeling smiles as the two of you venture deeper. you find a small tavern where the two of you get Lunch and journey to a book shop where the two of you spend hours reading a book that piques your mutual interest. The changeling loves it when you read to her and nestles in your lap as you read off to her tales of Heroism and Champions of long ago. She falls asleep but is stirred when you begin to stroke her hair.
"Why'd you stop?" she asked groggy as she woke up.
"I didn't wish to wake you sleeping beauty," you say to the changeling whose face blushes a deep azure shade. she smiles at you and your heart begins to race.
"There is one more place I want to show you." you nod and follow her out of the bookshop, but not before purchasing the one you read to her. you store it in your bag of deep pockets and follow her to the cresting hill line where you see the entrance to an inn that houses both Hot Springs and Saunas. Dahyun Checks the two of you in for the night. You get to your room but before you can unwind Dahyun says, "Come on let's try out the couple's springs." You follow her lead into the hot springs and follow her to the dual-gender springs. As she strips before you, you marvel at her shapely ass and dazzling ravenous figure. Dahyun notices and begins to make a show of it. teasing you more and more hoping to get you to make a move, but you remain disciplined, well parts of you do, as you follow her lead she sees your raging erection and smirks at you while licking her lips. eventually, the two of you manage to get to the springs and share another Chaste moment. you sit at the edge and Dahyun nestles in close to your body. As she shuffles to get comfortable you make space for her. when the two of you intertwine in peace Dahyun uncoils herself and you feel all of her tension release.
"This is nice," she says as the two of you watch the sunset from the springs which leads into the night's fireworks show. you nod at peace and are comfortable with her. She kisses your cheek and then turns your face to hers. her breath is soft and heavy. her eyes stare deep into yours. her brown pools stir your manhood to attention once more. she lifts herself to straddle you. you continue to stare at her unable to speak,
"Are you sure?" you ask bashful.
"Why so shy?" Dahyun asks voice hungry with desire but also affection drawing a light groan out of you as your cock grows harder.
"I just never have done this before," you say.
Dahyun smiles and replies, "Let me be your guide." she slides down and takes you inside of her. you moan as the feeling overwhelms you. A moan escapes your lips which eggs Dahyun on. "Let it all out Darling." She says as your hips buck into her. she yelps and moans in response. She moves your hands so one is on her tits and the other massages her ass, but all you can feel is the tightness of her womanhood as she takes more of you in. As she does she draws more of you out.
You stare into her eyes and say “Are you like this to all the champions?”
Dahyun smirks, “no just the reserved ones. The others are usually either not loud enough or too loud for my tastes.” she teases as she grinds on your crotch. You moan again as she gives you the first orgasm of the night. You look up and see stars as you cum in her Dahyun smiles at you. When you finally come down she grins madly at you and says “We’re not done.” and just like that gone is the reserved martial artist. In his place the frenzied and skilled wandering warrior scoops Dahyun. She yelps in joyous surprise as the two of you barely make it to get clothed and back to your room before you're all over each other. The tenderness and shyness of earlier are gone now both Dahyun and Montu are exploring each other’s bodies with earned confidence. In between fights of dominance in the form of fevered kisses Dahyun nibbles on your sensitive ear lobe. You counter by tracing circles around her right nipple. Dayun moans before she climaxes but it doesn't calm either of you down. It only adds more to the wild hunger you have for each other. Which leads to you bending the flexible changeling over and smacking her ass as you ram your cock into her pussy
“Oh gods yes. She screams as you pound into her from behind. You marvel at her fantastic ass as it jiggles as you pound her relentlessly from behind. Your cock is suffocating in her warm and dripping snatch. It's like the rougher you go the wetter and tighter she gets. It makes you grow harder inside as both of you use each other for more pleasure. However, this tempo can't last forever and the both of you cum together.
The both of you can't stop however as Dahyun pushes you into the bed and begins riding you ragged. Her small but perky breasts bounce hypnotically. You reach out and trace circles around her right nipple. This sends her into further ecstasy. It causes her to get tighter and wetter around you. Dahyun her head back and moans vocalizing the pleasure without words. While riding she rings another fervent orgasm out of you while giving herself another. The two of you now finally fall to the bed exhausted. Dahyun spoons you as the both of you drift off to sleep. Your dreams are full of her as hers are full of you.
You wake up to Dahyun facing you. Your body jolts and her eyes flutter open and she smiles brightly at you. She caresses your face. “I know you plan to leave again but can I ask you to stay Darling?” she asks. You nod as she wraps her left leg around and pulls you closer causing your rod to rub against her folds forcing a jolt out of both of you but before anything else can progress Dahyun's bag begins vibrating you point this out to her which makes her sigh as she pulls out a blood red scroll. You notice her face grow pale (well paler her skin was already porcelain adjacent). She unfurled it, read it, and looked up to you with a face of need.
“Darling I know it's a lot to ask, but…” Dahyun began sensing her anxiety you made your move.
Before she could finish you reply, “It's done.”
Dahyun nodded worried and the two of you got cleaned and then got dressed before heading into town. You look back through the pamphlet given to you and notice the couple's hot springs clearly say that the waters have an intense aphrodisiac effect which makes a lot of the haze of last night make more sense. Upon arriving in town you are devastated to see massive burns across the city, but these were not fire burns but electrical ones. You notice Dahyun's shift in affectation and bring her in closer. “No Dragon who rampages will prosper,” you say to alleviate her worries. This works to some degree as some of the color returns to her face. You follow her to the palace where ten vaguely familiar faces (plus the Queen and King) reside.
Nayeon… you think approaches the two of you, “Where were you ?” she says frantically
Dahyun points to you and explains how she was with you at the Kimura hot springs. The rest of the group sizes you up as they vaguely recognize you. You nod curtly and politely.
Handong steps up and says, “So how are we talking this Dragon down?”
Surprise happy New Year/Christmas gift to my readers Enjoy.
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sorcerous-caress · 5 months
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Warlock human who pays their patron back with being free use whenever their patron wants.
An archfey that summons you to the fae realm whenever they want, finding the human smell too intoxicating to resist. The sound of soft bells and windchimes echo with each plunge they push into your core.
A fiend that marks your flesh, a collar to match as they keep reminding you of your place human, between their legs whenever they wish. Sometimes, you're kept tied to their bed on display for all visitors who may look but never touch.
A celestial that gets overbearing and condescending, constantly looking over your shoulder and making inappropriate remarks. Pulling you by holy strings up towards a featherly bed whenever they want to teach you manners.
A great old one that's indifferent to the way you squirm when overstimulated, whose emotions and expressions are too incomprehensible for your human mind. Who curiously pushes you past your limits each time.
A genie that comes from nobility and wealth that showers you in the most expensive equipment and clothes as long as you sit on their lap and thank them for each and every item as their fingers creep between your legs.
The fathomless that plunges you into pits of darkness, making you gasp for air as water shapes itself to plunge into your hole and wrap around your body. Each ocean, river, and lake send shivers up your skin and a feeling of uncontrollable lust.
The hexblade, where darkness means invisible hands, caressing your body, groping and proding against your sensitive areas. Even the simple shade of a tree means the feeling of lips against your neck. Each night brings promise of endless pleasure as the shadows manifest and spreads your legs
An undying who gets you to call them master. Strict and tough with their love as they bend you over their knees, a riding crop in the other hand. Who always makes sure you're on your best behaviour. Perfection is the bare minimum.
An undead who feasts on you each night, revealing in your life essence and the blood that pulses through you. Dead skin and souless eyes drinking up every reaction and moan they can get out of you, making you feed them what your human soul can offer.
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sugoi-and-spice · 4 months
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DnD Commission for a really awesome Anon! Thank you so much for the awesome idea and your OC, and for letting me just have fun with it!
Fandom: DnD
Pairing: OC x Dragonborn, Humans, & Elf
Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI
CW: Scalie (Dragonborn), Monsterfucking (Succubus), Rough Sex, Gangbang, Self-Destructive Behavior, Cuckholding, PnV Intercoure, Spanking, Biting, Oral, Anal (implied), kind of Racism? Well, species-ism.
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Love was war. One even more evil and malicious than the one Faust had grown up in. And that was saying something, considering how brutal and long the war between the Kingdom of Mortals and the Kingdom of Demons truly was. Even by demon standards.
Nobody knew how it started. There were legends on both sides about who fired the first shot, most exclusively blaming the other. Both had details that seemed equal parts plausible and equal parts ridiculous. The one thing that was confirmed true, is that it had been going on longer than whole generations had been alive. Including hers. An entire era of hatred and violence unfathomable to history before. Which made Faust’s very existence as a half-demon all the more implausible.
Her mother never explained to her how it happened, and she wasn’t around long enough for Faust to ever badger her properly. It wasn’t like it really mattered anyway. How it happened, whether it be an act of love or war, ultimately had no bearing on what her life would be.
She’d never really belonged in demon society. Well, to be honest, she’d never really belonged anywhere. But she stuck out especially in the world of fangs and wings and violence. She didn’t swallow souls, nor did she partake in the feast of flesh. She had her powers, weaker than most, but they didn’t seem to be for anything. After all, what was the point of being able to seduce prey if she herself didn’t predate.
If it was up to the majority, she knew that the demons would’ve killed her the day she took her first breath. Half-breeds were weak, and weakness had no place on the demon-side of war. 
Maybe that’s why she ended up joining the mortals’ side in the end. To mortals she was strong, impressive even. She liked to think at the surface level that none of that mattered though. That she joined the Kingdom’s side because she cared about life and that deep down she was a good person. But she knew that wasn’t true. Good people didn’t kill just to fit in, they didn’t revel and bliss in their own powers of seduction. They didn’t yearn for a mistake in the battlefield so that her Commander would set her loose to bask in blood. Good people didn’t play with peoples’ lives, as much off the battlefield as on.
Good people were people. And she was not people.
No, in truth she just wanted a place to belong. To be accepted and maybe even, she thought in her young naivete, to be loved. She should’ve known how foolish that idea had been from the start.
In what world would she, a creature of violet skin and twisting horns, belong in a kingdom dominated by warm-toned humans? What mortal could accept, let alone love the very face of the enemy they were trying to protect their homes from? Who could love a monster?
Things did get a little easier when she joined the mortal kingdom’s side. In theory. Thanks to the King’s Pendant she was given, she was identified by anyone that saw her as a non-enemy. Spontaneous attacks and attempts at her life as she knew with the demons, mellowed to hushed whispers and fearful glances.
A lot of people thought that it neutralized her powers altogether, acted as a leash and collar that her party-members could hold and yield to their wishes. And in a way they weren’t wrong. 
Did the pendant do anything to literally stifle her powers? Not in the slightest. But she took great care in not using them outside of battle, at blending in with the crowd as best as she could. By getting her lays entirely on her turn of phrase and tongue and skill alone.
Whether they realized it or not.
Many liked the idea of bedding a “tamed” succubus like her. It was like BDSM, being able to explore their deepest darkest fantasies in a safe environment, but further than that. In an environment that was considered socially acceptable. Forward-thinking even!
When really, they were just human pigs that wanted a taste of the rumors they’d all shared around the campfire as boys at one time or another. The story about how succubi are the greatest lays in existence. 
And in this way, they’d be able to experience that legendary lay, and keep their immortal soul. Win-win-win, right?
Yeah. She supposed so.
After all, she did like the attention. She’d been starved for it for so long. For any attention. She’d always straddled a line that resulted in unending loneliness and rejection from all around her. Too human to be succubus, too succubus to be human. So many times, she’d wanted to be looked at with longing, genuine longing and compassion, not just violent lust. With positive intrigue, rather than confused disgust, a question of just what the hell she was doing there. A wishing she’d ceased to exist. And if meaningless sex was the closest she’d get to that peace, then she’d take it.
Yes, love was a horrible, terrible war. And that’s why she avoided it at all costs.
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Faust was fucking exhausted. 
It had been a long, long campaign on the eastern front. Her party had been pinned down for days straight until, due to the sacrifice of many, she managed to infiltrate the enemy Fiend Lord’s castle and seduce him into surrender. She’d fought and suffered just as much as her mortal party members, took even more overnight watch shifts too since she didn’t need as much sleep as the rest, and was as far on the front lines as one could possibly get. (She was the sole invader into the castle afterall). But of course, she received none of the glory, and all of the blame for her fallen comrades (who, from all of the insults they threw at her during the campaign, it was only through gritted teeth she called them comrades). 
After all that, it was understandable why her body begged for the comfort of her bed. Her mind however had other ideas. Running rapidly through the horrors of the day, unable to process the horrible names and treatment she’d experienced on the front, she knew that any sleep she tried to chase would be evasive. She needed to make her mind blank, needed to be needed in one way or another. 
She needed a drink.
Of course, that was easier said than done for a creature of her attributes. It was feat in and of itself for her to first off find a tavern in town that’d actually serve her, let alone serve her well. 
So that’s how she ended up seated at one of the seediest inns at the end of town, surprisingly rowdy with off-duty soldiers and farmers alike, looking to pick up a girl or two (or three or four — that’s how cheap they were here), but woefully alone with no drink in her hand and no barmaid’s attention even after half an hour. 
She expected as much of course, was used to having to fill her stomach with nothing but side glances and patronizing stares for a good while anytime she went out. So she found that it was these times that were as good as any to scope out for her companion(s) for the night.
To begin the hunt for her prey.
There were plenty of options tonight, a smorgasbord of men of which she knew would make fine, flattering company. Some tall, some short, many handsome, many more ugly. All of them eventually meeting her eye with either obvious disgust or ashamed lust. 
All of them, except him. 
Despite how crowded the tavern was, he was looking at her like she was the only one in the room.
He was a beautiful thing, truly. A dragonborn with scales that were more pearlike than white in their effervescence. They seemed to shine different brilliant jewel tones depending on the light in a way that she found intriguing hypnotic.
The dragonborn noticed her looking and quickly snapped back to the bar, sweet little lavender creeping up the back of his neck in a way she couldn’t deny was adorable. So he was a shy one, huh? That’s not what she would’ve expected from a creature like him, and especially not what she would’ve expected from a member of the King’s Royal Guard. Normally these men in golden armor were filled to the brim with confidence and bravado, that’s what wafted through the rest of the room after all. Then again, it wasn’t often one saw a dragonborn in the King’s Guard at all.
Members of the Guard were the most regaled and sought after positions in the King’s Army, and yet the ones with the absolute least work to show for it. As the King’s personal guard and right hand men, they never saw battle, but often acted as if they were on the front lines. She’d had some fun toying around with them before. They were so proud, so cocky, so above it all. Above her. 
“I’ve never done this with someone like you,” they always said, in a tone that dripped with an unsaid “you should be grateful” attitude. 
Fun in the chase, to watch the breakdown of their walls of pride and the blushes that dusted their cheeks as she led them upstairs to her rented room above the tavern. Fun to play with.
Absolutely awful in bed.
This one seemed different though. He wasn’t a captain or a knight, he wasn’t cut with rippling muscles built in the king’s private training grounds or covered in painted on scars. He was downright scrawny actually, clearly uncomfortable in his own scaled skin. It was quite the sight to see, especially for a dragonborn.
She didn’t usually go for types like him, or more accurately, for types like her. For the dragonborns and the tieflings and the other succubi that managed to sneak their way into the Kingdom’s “good” graces. No, she found her tastes firmly in those of humans, elves, and such. Was it prejudice? Maybe. She’d hate to admit it if it was. But it’s not like she wasn’t attracted to them. No, quite the contrary. It’s just that she typically went for the unobtainables, the ones who looked down on her and upon her with fear. 
The ones who’d never threaten her with something real. 
And yet, there was something about him, something she couldn’t describe, something she couldn’t resist. Something that had her walking up to the bar just to be near him before she could talk herself out of it.
He looked away quickly when he realized she was coming over, pretending that he hadn’t noticed her, hoping that she’d just think that he was zoning out. But the lavender blush across the pearly scales of his cheeks betrayed him.
It was pretty cute.
The bartender was facing her, staring right at her in fact when she approached the bar. But the second she tried to speak he turned his back to her. A few more times she tried to wave him down, but he was clearly determined to serve every other patron twice before he even bothered to look her way. 
She was used to this treatment of course, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. It had her forgetting why she’d come over here in the first place.
A throat cleared next to her. She turned towards it, towards the dragonborn. Oh right, that’s why. Wait… But why was that why?
“What um… What do you want?”
His voice was soft, gentle. It didn’t fit the heavy knight’s armor he and sharp dragon spines that he wore. Nor did the beautiful kindness in his eyes, the genuine desire to help. It was clear that, despite how long he’d been staring at her, he wasn’t asking out of any agenda or scheme to get her into bed. It was just because he wanted to help.
Maybe it was because he empathized with her. Or maybe it was because he genuinely was that nice.
She was bitterly sure that it was the latter.
“Just a wine,” she answered, “Red.”
The dragonborn nodded and politely raised his hand, cheating his body a bit to make his Kingsguard emblem clear and command whatever authority it was worth.
Which was apparently a lot, even for a dragonborn, considering how quickly the bartender attended to him.
She reached into her satchel to pull out some coins to pay the soldier.
“N-No, please. Don’t worry about it.” he insisted, catching onto her actions.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded, “I-It’s um… Tonight’s on my commanding officer for us all. So it wouldn’t be right for me to take your money. Not when I’m getting it all for free, y’know?”
She cocked a brow.
“But it’s alright for you to buy me a drink on your commanding officer’s coin?”
His eyes widened slightly, a slight panic raising through his scales. Clearly he hadn’t thought that one through.
Okay, now that was really cute.
She laughed, patting him on the arm, “Hey, hey — I won’t tell if you won’t, alright?”
He smiled, an adorable crooked little thing, “Th-Thanks.”
The Barkeep finally came around, setting the goblet of wine in front of the dragonborn, of which he promptly, but gently slid across the bar to her. She gave him a nod of thanks and took a drink.
“So,” she smiled at him, the wine warming her chest and her confidence delightfully, “What’s the occasion for your commanding officer to take you all out?”
He looked back at her, genuinely surprised that she was still talking to him.
“O-Oh, well we had a big victory on the Eastern Front today,” he answered, twiddling his claws nervously, “Did… Did you hear about it?”
She could’ve scoffed. Of course she’d heard of it. She’d been in it. She wondered how he and his company had heard about it honestly, considering how deep within the king’s castle walls he was undoubtedly stationed.
“Oh yeah… I guess I did hear about that,” she raised her glass to him, “In the King’s honor.”
He looked down at the bar awkwardly.
“You, uh… You don’t need to toast me. It’s not like I actually did anything,” he shook his head with a chuckle, “I’m just a King’s Guard after all.”
Just a King’s Guard. That wasn’t something she heard often. Typically the King’s Guard were happy to boast about such rank, and to take credit for victories of the front line. (Although they’d just as quickly shove away any responsibilities for failure). They were coveted positions after all. All the honor and glory of a soldier with hardly any of the risk. She wondered what had occurred in this dragonborn’s life to get such a position and yet to be so bitter about it. One — especially one that looked like him — didn’t just stumble into the King’s Guard after all.
He was interesting. Very interesting.
“And yet you celebrate.”
“And yet I celebrate.” he confirmed, taking a drink of his ale.
This was getting bad. She wanted to know more about him. To find the secrets of the sorrow in his voice, the truth behind his sad, gentle eyes. To connect with him. And that simply would not do.
Luckily, she was just as soon saved from the pit of her vulnerability by the boy’s Commanding Officer. A cocky, drunken idiot, from the way he sauntered over to them.
Good. Just what she needed.
“Maugor!” he bellowed, throwing an arm around the Dragonborn’s shoulders, “Just what are you doing hiding over here at the bar.”
He raked his eyes, leeringly, up and down her every curve.
“...And keeping a fine beauty like this all to yourself?”
She turned to him, a sensuous, rehearsed smile across her face. She extended her hand so that the Commanding Officer could take it into his own.
“And who might you be, Darling?”
“Faust.” she purred.
“Faust,” he repeated, just as sultry, placing a kiss on her knuckles, “I’m Captain Melphi.”
“Charmed.”
“I’m sure,” he grinned, “Now what’s a dangerous little thing like you, doing in a fine, upstanding establishment like this?”
“Sir,” the dragonborn, Maugor, hissed, clearly offended on her behalf.
But they both ignored him. Or she pretended to at least. She couldn’t help the way her heart skipped a bit at the backbone he’d instantly grown for her.
“I’m just looking for a good time, Captain.”
He whistled, “Are you now?”
“Yes. Some pure, good old-fashioned fun. Any idea where I can find some?”
“Let me buy you a drink, dear. And I’ll show you.”
She pushed the glass of wine Maugor had bought her out of Captain Melphi’s view, behind her back. Maugor noticed. But she knew she shouldn’t care. Let him notice. Peons like him weren’t why she was here anyway. It was only the Captain Melphi’s of the world that could make her feel truly good, truly safe in herself.
“Lead the way.”
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Captain Melphi didn’t ask what she wanted to drink. He just bought several pitchers of ale and brought them, and her, on his arm back to his table with some of his other subordinates. She hated ale to be quite honest. But she took the overgenerous pint he poured her with fake glee. Anything to appeal to him.
He dragged Maugor back to the table with them too.
The long table Melphi had stationed them at was full with many members of he King’s Guard, but the ones that stuck closest to him (aside from her), were a young human named Tophel, and an elf named Les — pronounced “Leese”, he specified. Two humans and a proud, clearly aristocratic elf. She could think of no better companions for the night. Except for maybe—
She shook the thought out of her head, turning to Captain Melphi with intrigue as he made conversation.
“You’re wearing the King’s collar,” he said.
She smiled, stroking the pendant pressing gently into her neck with a coy fondness.
“Aren’t we all?” she asked, flicking her eyes to the Captain’s own medal medals on his lapel. Medals of glory and rank. Medals of the King.
Captain Melphi laughed, a sound both high and haughty.
“Yes, yes,” he answered, reaching forward and running his own thumb against her pendant, “But of course, I was talking about this pretty little piece.”
She let out a little gasp, one that she knew would send shivers of excitement up the Captain’s spine.
“Now how did a beautiful, wicked thing like you, get an honor like this?”
“I just had to be really, really good for the King. Show my tummy as it were.”
“More than that I’m sure,” Les snickered.
Captain Melphi laughed along with him, then walked his fingers across the table towards Faust, “And I bet that was pretty hard for you, you wicked little thing.”
Faust leaned into Captain Melphi’s touch and purred, “You have no idea.”
This was met with whoops and hollers from the two men, the other two sitting curiously silent through all this. The other human, Tophel, was staring enchantedly, unyieldingly at Faust. Maugor was looking at anything but.
She decided to have some more forced fun and play with Tophel.
“Do I have something on my face?” she asked the young human, “You’ve been staring at me like I’ve grown an extra horn or something.”
“Oh, n-no. It’s nothing like that, it’s just,” Tophel took a large gulp suddenly of his ale to give himself some liquid courage, “Well, is it true?”
She tilted her head, playing coy, but genuinely wondering what he was getting at. There were a lot of rumors floating around about not only succubi, but her specifically. She was curious just which this mortal man had heard.
“Is what true?”
“That you can’t use your… powers with that on?” he asked, almost drooling.
“Private,” Captain Melphi faux-snapped, although it was booming enough to strike the young man into attention, “That’s a completely inappropriate thing to ask a lady.”
“S-Sorry Sir!” Tophel yelped with a salute, noticeably only apologizing to his superior. And not to her.
Captain Melphi instead took that honor, running his wide, course thumb over the path from her manicure to her knuckles, “I’m so sorry for the impropriety, my dear.”
“Oh thank you Captain, but I don’t much mind impropriety.”
Captain Melphi smirked, almost growling out in his own excitement, “No, I suppose you wouldn’t, would you?” 
She almost laughed. To think he’d scolded his underling for crudeness. 
The word slut, whore, and all other nasty little variations hung off the end of his words, but he’d save it for now.
Save it for upstairs.
“My powers of manipulation and persuasion, dream-meddling and such — the ones that strip others of choice, and that his Majesty, the King, deemed too dangerous to go unchecked. Those have all been smothered by this,” she exclaimed, gesturing to her collar, “But others, ones that can help in battle. My shapeshifting, my innate understanding of desires, I was allowed to keep.”
Tophel gulped, completely ill-prepared for an explanation like that, particularly one delivered with such unyielding eye contact. 
Captain Melphi, however, expected no less. He raised a mug in cheers, “Well thank God for that.”
Tophel and Les raised their mugs with a “here, here!” Maugor noticeably did nothing, just looked away uncomfortably. She wondered why.
She’d have her chance to dig for the answer soon, as her other three companions got caught up in their own drunken conversation at the moment.
“I’m boring you, aren’t I?” she asked with a fake pout.
Maugor snapped to her, genuinely taken aback by the question.
“What? N-No, you could never, why would you think that?”
“You’ve just seemed a little checked out ever since we sat down here.”
He moved to defend himself, but she was quick to make the kill, whip out the doe eyes and lay on the guilt that would secure him in her clutches.
“Look, I get it,” she sighed through batting eyes, “You’re here to celebrate a great victory for the Kingdom. The last thing you want to do is focus all your night on fraternizing with the enemy. Especially a halfbreed like me.”
It was a dirty little web she was spinning with her words to him, but she’d despise to admit that there was a little bit of truth to him. She liked Maugor. Felt a lot of chemistry with him, a warmth and comfort she hadn’t felt in… Well, she didn’t know if she’d ever felt this from a first meeting. She was intrigued by him, so a deep, deep part of her was devastated to think that maybe he didn’t feel the same way.
Maugor looked down ashamedly, whispering, “It’s not you.”
She smiled sadly, “You don’t have to lie.”
“No really, I’m not!” he insisted urgently, then leaned in, admitting drastically quieter, “It’s them.”
She cocked a brow. This timid little dragonborn had more spine to him than she initially thought.
“Not a fan of your Party, huh?”
“More like they’re not a fan of me,” he muttered then, “Of course, why would they be…”
She shrugged, “Oh I don’t know, it seems like they’re trying to include you.”
“They’re being patronizing,” he insisted, then added, a bit ashamedly, “Just like they’re being to you.”
Faust smiled knowingly, taking a sip of her ale. He was offended on her behalf. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Had it ever actually happened?
“It’s to be expected though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah it’s to be expected… That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
She hummed a little at this, “Hmmm. You’re a curious one, Maugor.”
He looked back at her, the bitterness in his gaze quickly giving way to curiosity.
“I can’t tell if you’re more offended on your behalf or on mine.”
“Well that should be obvious isn’t it?” he asked, smiling pitifully, “I’m not the one who has to wear a collar.”
“A lot of men like the collar,” she nodded over to his squadmates, “Makes them feel safe.”
“Anyone who doesn’t feel safe around you is a fool.”
“I have powers, you know.”
“Yeah? So does Les. Or any other idiot that stumbles upon an enchanted sword or staff. It’s not the ability that makes someone dangerous. It’s the person. And I know that you’re not a dangerous person.”
She looked away from him, finding it difficult to believe this sort of flattery.
“How do you know? You don’t know a thing about me.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” he hummed, “I just have a feeling.”
“A feeling?” she looked back at him with a deadpan.
“Yeah, a feeling,” he answered, “You feel… good.”
Her eyes widened. Nobody had ever said that to her before.
Lavender shot up Maugor’s face as he realized what he just said, “N-Not that way! I mean, I’m sure you do feel good— n-no! What I mean is— ah, damn…”
Faust couldn’t help but let out a laugh. And one laugh became a string of them. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed, genuinely laughed. Not the fake coy giggles she gave her prey. And she knew that she’d never laughed this hard before. It was a contagious laugh clearly, as once Maugor overcame his initial embarrassment, he joined in too, the two of them reveling in the ridiculousness of all this.
They finally fell out of their laughter just inches away from each other, catching their breath as they looked into each other’s eyes. There was chemistry between them. That was undeniable. She had a feeling that laying with him would be one of the greatest experiences of her life, but not just because of the sparks. 
“Faust?”
She nodded, slowly.
No, there was something more there. 
“I… I um… I’d very much like to kiss you now.”
Her lids grew heavy, her breath hot.
Something she could see herself building a life with.
“Only kiss?” she husked in a tone that had the spines up his back instantly erect.
She found herself leaning in, allowing herself to fall—
“Oh ho ho, what do we have here?” Captain Melphi finally butted back in.
She snapped back to earth, horror sinking into her skin.
Les threw two drunken arms around Maugor and Faust, hugging them both a bit too close for comfort into his alcohol-reeking breath, “I think this might be the beginnings of love!”
No. No, no, no, no, no. That was completely unacceptable. She had to end this now. Cut this sprouting bloom down to the root.
“Say it isn’t so!” Melphi cried in mock-dramatics, then reached forward and grabbed Faust’s chin, “You’re going to make the three of us feel lonely if you just go off with him.”
She hummed in equal mock-contemplation, “Well now we can’t have that, can we?”
Captain Melphi grinned wide and lasciviously.
“Madam!” he bellowed out to the innkeeper, “You have a room available for me and my friends?”
The innkeeper eyed Faust suspiciously, but ultimately nodded and waved over to meet her behind the bar.
Melphi slapped Tophel’s back, sending him to go collect the key as he and Les collected their things and finished their drinks. 
As the boys alternated between drinking and whispering not-so-sweet nothings in her ears, she looked over to Maugor. He looked more than disappointed. He looked completely dejected. He’d certainly be bummed if the night ended like this, her going up to the room with his party members as he sulked soberly back to his home. But it wouldn’t be truly over. They could still run into each other, in the taverns or amongst the guard. They could still have something blossom.
And that just absolutely would not do. She needed to shatter all of those hopes and dreams. Hit where it would hurt the most.
“Got the key!” Tophel cheered as he practically sprinted back to the squad.
“After you then, my dear.” Captain Melphi gestured to Faust, to which she gave a teasing little curtsy that had the boys laughing. (Because what succubus could ever deem to try and be classy).
“Hey, you coming Maugor?” Les called back.
The dragonborn froze in the midst of bussing their goblets and quickly looked away nervously. “N-No, I don’t think so…”
“What?” Melphi demanded, “But she wants you kid. Don’t you, honey?”
Maugor looked at Faust, who nodded “shyly” at him, eyelashes fluttering, “Yes, Captain. I do.”
The dragonborn began to sputter, completely taken aback, “B-But I, I mean I don’t think— I’ve never—”
“Of course you’ve never,” Les snorted, “Nobody’s doubting that. So what better time than now?”
“Yeah Maugor! Come get your cherry popped!” Tophel cheered.
Captain Melphi rolled his eyes, quickly losing his patience with all of this verbal foreplay, “Are you seriously hesitating? When else is someone like you gonna get a chance like this again?”
Maugor looked down ashamed. 
Faust approached him, cupping his chiseled, spiked jaw in her soft as velvet palms.
“Please, I want you to join us,” she purred, Maugor’s eyes widening as she turned his head up to look at her, “I want you.”
Faust gulped.
“O… Okay.”
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Tophel was an eager one, unbuckling his belt before the door had even shut behind them. But Melphi was quick to stop him.
“Whaaaaat?” he whined.
“Be patient, private,” he explained, “This beauty here was Maugor’s find originally, he should be the one to have the conquest.
Faust rolled her eyes (out of view) as she shed her cloak onto one of the nearby couches. Well wasn’t he generous? She made her way over to Maugor, who stood awkwardly just next to the main bed, staring at it.
She walked up to him, splaying her hands across his breastplate. Even through all that armor, she could feel him quiver under her touch.
“Hi,” she whispered to him.
Maugor looked at her confused for a moment, but then melted a little, relaxed. Loving the way he was speaking just to her.
“H-Hi,” he breathed back.
She smiled. God he was cute.
“Awww, come on, can’t we at least all have her.” Tophel continued to whine, just within earshot.
“Soon, kid soon.” Melphi patted Tophel’s shoulder.
“Yes,” Les said under his breath, “Let the beasts have their moment.”
Faust tried not to cringe at that. And normally she wouldn’t, normally it would hit her armor and bounce right off. But this time she saw the hurt in Maugor’s face at that statement, and it made her heart ache. He looked like he wanted to turn around and say something. Something he’d probably regret.
So she pulled him down into a kiss before he had the chance.
Kissing a dragonborn was quite the experience. The texture of his lips, which appeared rough and rigid, were actually incredibly smooth and cool to the touch in an absolutely addictive way. His tongue, when she finally was able to pull it out of him, was long and strong, able to reach back to the back of her throat if he wasn’t careful. And she kind of didn’t want him to be careful. 
And yet he was. So, so careful. His hands running up and down her back featherlight across her skin, careful not to scratch or catch in anyway. He never pushed forward or pulled her into him, just followed her lead. Part of it was probably his virginal status. But she was pretty sure that he was also just like this too. As sharp as he was, he’d never let someone get hurt on his point.
Maybe that’s why he became a King’s Guard. Not out of fear of death, but so he wouldn’t hurt anyone.
She pulled away reluctantly, a long trail of spit connecting the two panting lovers. She could kiss him for days she knew, but right now she wanted more.
“Do you want me to undress you?” she purred between labored breaths.
“N-No,” he answered, stepping back hesitantly, “I’ve got it.”
She smiled, smitten with his shyness.
That adoration very quickly turned to desperation however as he shed his uniform. Of course those beautiful, iridescent scales went all the way down his body, but what she wasn’t necessarily expecting was the toned, lean muscle they covered. He’d seemed downright scrawny in all that armor back down at the bar, but here it was clear that even though he may have been the runt of the hatchlings at one time, he was anything but weak now. He’d gone through boot camp just like the rest of them, and came out the otherside a gorgeous specimen.
God, and then there was his cock, she thought greedily as it bounced out from his trousers. Thick and dipping a bit under its own weight. It contrasted the rest of his body deep violet — a color she’d always hated in her own skin, but that she had to admit looked absolutely exquisite on Maugor.
She was on her knees in front of him before he could even turn back to her, capturing him in her mouth before he could get a single word out.
“Ngh—!”
His hands reached down to cup her face, pulling her off of him gently but shakily.
“P-Please, you don’t have to—”
“Do you not want me to?” she asked.
His eyes widened a bit, and then he looked away with a blush.
“I… I never said that.”
She grinned, pressing his cockhead against her lips as she whispered, “Then there’s no problem.”
He cried out, hooked toes audibly curling into the wooden floor as she took him back into her mouth.
The feel of him was even more glorious than the view. Impossibly hot, but smooth as silk. His precum tingled her tongue, and the dribbles of it seemed endless. She could feel her own body getting hotter and hotter with every taste. She realized all too late that it must’ve had an aphrodisiacal quality to it, and just how addictive it felt to be on the other side of a power like that.
Maugor gasped as Faust pulled off of him with a pop. She couldn’t wait anymore. He was making it impossible to wait anymore.
She looked up at him with pure sex in her eyes.
“How do you want me?”
Maugor gulped.
“I… I want to look at you.”
Her smile widened, god he was cute. She could definitely work with that.
She climbed back onto the bed with her legs spread shamelessly. Maugor didn’t dare move, too awestruck by the spectacular view, the heavenly situation he’d somehow found himself in.
Faust chuckled, falling harder and harder for his sweetness by the second, “Well? Do you just want to look at me?”
“Yeah rookie,” Melphi piped in, “Are you just gonna look? Or do you need your Commanding Officer to show you how it’s done?”
Maugor’s eyes widened in horror.
“N-No!” he yelped, then corrected gruffer, “I mean, no.”
He stepped forward, grabbing her legs with fake roughness (in reality he held her quite delicately), and moved them to wrap around his hips. Even his fake-dominance sparked something new in her, and it got her thinking just how much damage he could really do to her if he tried. 
She sighed blissfully as she tightened her legs around him, reveling in the feeling of his smooth, cool scales pressing into her thighs. He didn’t even need to line himself up with her, the hot soak of her womanhood, the bullying weight of his cock, it was like they were made for each other, magnetic. Like two missing puzzle pieces, he instantly started to sink.
Maugor let out a strangled yelp that had their other companions bursting out laughing.
"Attaboy, Maugor! Attaboy!” Captain Melphi cheered out.
“Woooo!” Tophel joined in, as Les applauded politely between them.
But Maugor ignored them, tracing his claws delicately along her jaw. He was too engulfed in the way that she moaned and writhed just on the feeling of him being inside her. Everything about him, the size and stretch, the texture, the heat it was enough to have her almost cumming on the spot.
Almost.
She tightened her legs around his hips, urging him to fuck her.
“W-Wait,” he gasped, “I-I-I don’t think I’m gonna last.”
Faust smirked. God he was so cute.
“I don’t mind, sweetheart.”
“I do,” he whined.
She chuckled, reaching her hand out to rest against his chest. It glowed subtly at where they connected and Maugor’s eyes widened.
“You have nothing to worry about my darling.”
And suddenly he grew even harder inside her.
“I’ll keep you going as long as you want.”
A blissed out growl tore from the back of his throat then, animalistic in it’s gratitude as he dragged himself out of her slowly, then slammed back in definitively.
Faust practically squealed in delight, falling in love with the way his claws dug ever so slightly into the meat of her hip and shoulder. 
“We can switch positions anytime you like,” she gasped out between thrusts.
“N-No, no way! You’re… You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, cupping her entire face in just one of his hands, “So, so beautiful!”
Something struck her oddly at those words, the desperate honesty in them. Something that had her chest aching and eyes prickling. So as Maugor figured out a new, delicious roll of his hips, she threw her head back not just from the pleasure, but to whip those feelings back.
She lost track of how long he fucked her, it could’ve been minutes, could’ve been hours — she wanted to let him go on for days. Particularly when he found a brand new rhythm, his legs spreading wide enough so that his thich hit the mattress with every thrust, that forced her own knees up into his ribs. Grinding and humping into her deeper and harder than before.
“S-So good, amazing! I-I wanna fuck you forever!” he groaned out. 
And she had full intentions of letting Maugor do so, to fuck her until he was in tears begging her to cum. And yet, with the feel of his pelvis grinding into her clit, the powerful thrusts of his strong, beautiful cock unlike any she’d ever had, and the overwhelming feelings he was filling her with, she found herself coming completely (and prematurely) undone.
Her hand fell from Maugor’s chest, twisting tight in the sheets as her orgasm wracked through her, and as a result, her dragonborn companion was not far behind. His cock swelled impossibly harder, hotter as he slammed into her with newfound feverishness, chasing his own orgasm desperately behind her.
“Oh— Oh, god, I— I’m—!”
Maugor dropped his head into her shoulder, instinct completely taking over as he sunk his teeth into the crux of her neck. They went deep, those sharp monstrous teeth of his, but his cock went even deeper, bullying further and further into her until it was kissing her cervix. Then, when she was as tight to him as physically possible, did his body finally allow him to cum.
Instinct. That’s what she knew she should write it off as. Nothing more than an instinctual need to mate. And yet, she found herself getting completely lost in his grip, in the warmth and desire that his tightness promised. It was like he never wanted to let her go, not even for a second. Like he worshiped her. 
Like he was falling in love with her.
The feeling was even harder to deny when he finally pulled away from her, horror filling his expression as he saw the dribble of deep violet blood pooling down into her collarbone.
“O-Oh my—” he panicked, looking around quickly until he could grab a piece of clothing (one of his dressings notably), to clean her off with, “I’m so, so sorry!”
She smiled up at him dazedly, falling deeper and deeper into his cuteness, that sweet lavender blush of his.
“I-I don’t know what came over me! Really, I’m so so so—”
“It’s okay!” she finally spoke, stopping Maugor’s rambling in his tracks. She reached up to him, running her hands along the spines on his jaw affectionately, “I actually really liked it.”
Maugor’s light lavender flush suddenly set ablaze a raging violet close to her own skin. And she couldn’t help but giggle. How such a sweet, adorable thing could have ended up in a haughty, terrible organization like the King’s Guard, she’d never know.
And she really couldn’t wait to find out.
“Oh you did, did you?” Melphi suddenly said, shocking Maugor and Faust both out of their stupor.
They had both forgotten that they weren’t alone.
She snapped back to the Captain, white hot panic flooding her chest. For anyone else, that panic would be at the realization that, after potentially just making a soul connection with Maugor here, she’d now have to deal with the three other King’s Guardsmen, rubbing themselves with and without clothes at the sight.
But she wasn’t anyone else. And fucking more men wasn’t the problem.
What was she doing? Getting emotionally attached to a lay? That’s not what these escapades were for, that’s not what anything she did was for. Following down this path, it’d only get her hurt in the end.
She needed to do what she came here to do, do exactly what she’d always intended with Maugor and end this, end this right fucking now.
“I should’ve known a Succubus Slut like you would like it rough,” he smirked, reaching his large, commanding hand towards her body.
Maugor hunched over her protectively, making her heart ache. Why was he making this so much harder than he needed to?
“I think she’s had enough,” he growled.
Captain Melphi shook his head with a laugh, “Oh virgins. Come now Maugor, that’s enough of that. It’s time to share.”
Maugor crouched tighter over her, appearing totally like a dragonborn worth the name.
“She doesn’t want to!” he snapped.
Melphi just looked between the two, amused.
“Is this the truth dear? You don’t want the rest of us?”
Maugor glared at his commanding officer, “That’s what I said—”
“Of course I do.”
Maugor snapped back to her, shocked.
“Wait… W-What—?”
Captain Melphi smirked, reaching his hand down past Maugor and running his thumb along Faust’s bottom lip.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
The corners of Faust’s lips quirked a little back, before she opened it slightly to allow his thumb access. She wasn’t obscene about it, she just let her mouth go soft around him, her tongue running sweet little swirls around the tip. Regardless, it caused a nearly inhuman growl to leave that human.
“And that’s what I love to see.”
Faust rolled over onto her hands and knees, her mouth latched to Melphi’s thumb the whole time. She barely threw back a teasing glance at Maugor as she climbed out from under him, but that was long enough for her to see the devastated look on his face.
And even more troubling, long enough to make her feel bad about it.
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Tophel had practically clamored over his squadmates to get to Faust. And even though Melphi had been the one to pull her away from Maugor, he was a chivalrous enough Captain to hand her over to his subordinate with grace.
The young human soldier was completely obsessed with her tits. Squeezing and rolling them, pinching and biting. They were everything for him. Everything.
“God they’re perfect,” he whined from between them, “So perfect.”
Les and Melphi snickered from the couch across from them. Shaking their heads at the shameless display of their youngest squadmate.
“Yeah, you’ve been in them for like ten minutes!” Melphi called out.
“Aren’t you bored?” Les added.
“Never, oh no no, never!” he cried out before latching himself onto her nipple in a manner that had her struggling not to roll her eyes.
Melphi chuckled, turning to Maugor who sat actively looking away on the couch arm.
“What do you think, son?” he asked, “Think that rack is worth all that hype?”
The dragonborn didn’t say anything. Just took a swig from one of the bottles of wine they’d brought up to the room and stared at the wallpaper.
Melphi waved him off, turning back to the scene in time to see Tophel shoving Faust onto her back so that he could climb onto her chest.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” he chuckled.
Faust, figuring the drill, grabbed onto her breasts and started to push them together for him as he pulled off his pants and shimmied up to straddle her ribcage. But he held a hand out, stopping her.
“Not yet, just one second,” he told her, “Hold them open actually.”
She gave him a confused look but did as she was told.
Then he spat on her chest. 
Les and Melphi burst out laughing across the room, particularly amused by the confused look on Faust’s face.
“Now rub ‘em together.” Tophel ordered excitedly.
“Oh you sick, fuck!” Melphi laughed.
Tophel ignored them, just looking at her expectantly.
“Well, come on.”
Although taken aback, she did what she was told. Rubbing her cleavage together and in rounds so that Tophel’s saliva coated the skin in-between evenly.
“Now open again.”
This repeated about three more times, Tophel spitting all over her breasts, her nipples, and her having to rub it all about herself until she was completely coated and shiny in her spit.
“There we go,” he practically drooled, grabbing her tits from her and holding them together almost painfully tight, “That’s what we want.”
And he slipped his dick between them, only lasting a good five pumps before he was coating her skin all over again.
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Les just wanted her mouth. An Elf like him would never dare to sink so low as to sink his dick into a filthy succubus. And honestly, even calling it a blowjob would be generous for herself. Apparently, he was too high and mighty to believe that a literal sex demon would ever be able to pleasure him.
His fingers curled tight around her horns, moving her head up and down and up and down at a quick, yet metronomic pace. Every time she tried a move of her own, he’d immediately pull her back, giving her an obnoxious tutting and a finger wag.
“Nuh-uh-uh. Not like that. Just follow my lead, silly girl.”
His lead apparently was just jacking himself off with her mouth.
Everything about him was perfect, she supposed. His endless silver locks. His fine, truly porcelain skin. The lithe, rippling muscles of his abdomen. Anyone would be lucky to even be seen with him, let alone have him as a lay.
That’s what he kept telling her anyway.
“This must be a big deal to you, to have an elven cock in your mouth. I’m sure you’ve never dreamed of having something this fine.”
Before she could nod or even hum in agreement, he was giving a quick little patronizing pat to her forehead.
“No need to answer. I already know.”
“God, Les, you’re a douchebag!” Tophel groaned from across the room.
“Hey now, hey now, Tophel,” Melphi scolded, “You had your fun, now let the douchebag have his.”
Les scoffed at them.
“Fun? Oh please, this barely even passes the t-time,” he said in a voice, that through its breathiness and cracking said something completely different.
The closer he got, the longer he kept her pinned to his perfectly angular (and shaved), pelvis. At one point he wasn’t even pulling her back anymore, just holding her in place as he rolled his hips, fucking the quickly-constricting back of her throat.
When he did finally yank her head back for the last time, allowing her to gasp and sputter, dark-faced, he was just as quick to slap a hand over her lips, looking her dead in the eye as he pumped himself quickly, perfectly.
“Now don’t you dare swallow.”
Faust understood. After all, who was she to even think about swallowing precious, elven cum?
Ugh, whatever.
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Captain Melphi himself was an ass man, in every sense of the word.
She gasped as he slapped a broad palm with moderate power against her cheek.
“That wasn’t too hard, was it?”
Faust looked back up at him from her place across his knee and smiled pretty. 
“No, not at all Captain.”
Melphi grinned absolutely obscenely.
“Oh yeah, I bet you like it hard, don’t you?” he growled, punctuating with a slap across her ass much harder than the last.
She yelped out in surprise, “Y-Yes! Yes Captain!”
Melphi bellowed out a laugh deep from within his gut, practically giddy from the pleasure this abuse brought him.
“You see this boys?!” Captain Melphi called out to his squad.
Les and Tophel looked up from their spots across the room, where they had been recuperating with wine and smokes.
“This is what we’re going to do to every demon bitch we come across on the battlefield!” he cheered with another, harder slap.
“Here, here!” Tophel back.
 “You don’t even have to worry about whether you’re hurting them or not!”
Slap.
Tophel and Les watched the sight, completely entranced.
“They’ll fucking like it!”
Slap.
Maugor laid abandoned on the spare bed across the room, his back to them all.
“They’ll fucking love it!”
Slap. Slap. Slap.
“Isn’t that right you dumb, succubus whore?” he paused his assault momentarily, so as to growl into her ear.
Tears started to prick the corner of her eyes. From the pain, from the words, or from the fact that Maugor couldn’t even bear to look at her anymore, she wasn’t sure. She supposed it didn’t matter. After all, this is what she’d wanted. This is all she could ever truly bring herself to hope for.
So she swallowed back her tears and looked back at Captain Melphi with a wobbly smile.
“Y-Yes, Captain. I fucking love it!”
Melphi let out a combination of a groan and a laugh, his cock twitching hard at that pathetic, beautiful look on her face. 
“Go bend over the bed, bitch.” he commanded, giving her ass one last slap.
She nodded, getting up onto fawn-like legs that made the men around her laugh as she stumbled over to the bed. She started to bend over so she could grab onto the sheets, but was momentarily stopped by a perfectly unsoldierlike hand. Les’ hand.
“Nuh uh uh,” he wagged his finger at her, “Not quite yet.”
Les took a seat right in the spot that she was about to bend over, stroking himself back to full mast.
“Now go ahead,” he waved to her aristocratically, a gesture that just seemed absurd when done next to his own desperately pumping hand.
She did as told, bending over Les’s hips, registering out of the corner of her eyes that Tophel was hurrying onto the bed next to him, getting himself into prime tit-grabbing position.
And then Melphi saddled up behind her, the thick hairs of his bare thighs rubbing against her own. 
The gang's all here, she thought bitterly. All except Maugor of course.
Faust gasped out as Melphi pushed his cock roughly against her clit, giving Les the prime opening to pull her down onto his own dick. She moaned deep around him as Melphi rubbed the tip of his cock up and down the length of her pussy, coating himself, coaxing her.
It felt good, great even. The greatest she’d felt with any of these three. Although of course, nowhere near as close as she’d felt with Maugor…
No! She scolded herself. No, those thoughts needed to stop. After all, he could barely even look at her anymore. Any chance they may have had of being together had been shattered. He had been shattered. And that was a good thing, the best thing even. It was what she wanted! She needed to focus on what she always wanted.
She pulled herself off of Les so that she could beg, “Come on, please.”
Melphi cocked a brow at what in another tone of voice could be mistaken for a command. But he’d let that slide, given the circumstances.
“Oh, you want it that bad huh?” he grinned, swirling the head of his dick around her clit, “Some nice, good human cock.”
“Y-Yes, please,” she gasped.
Melphi chuckled, pulling his dick slowly one last time up the back of her pussy, and further still, until it was nestled right in at the pucker of her asshole.
“As you wish.”
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Hours later, the room was still. Not particularly silent though, as the Guardsmen she’d laid with all seemed to have a nasty snoring problem. (Yes, even the fucking elf).
But that wasn’t a problem. The deeper they slept, the easier this’d be.
She opened up Captain Melphi’s satchel. Like the others, there hadn’t been any big or exciting treasures. Just way too many bills and coins than any person with a brain should be carrying around, especially when they’d be leaving their coin purses out amongst strangers. 
And also like the others, she didn’t take all of it. Only about a quarter, a pretty new chunk of change, but not enough for Melphi to immediately notice. This was maybe the sleaziest part of her routine, she’d admit, but how else was she supposed to get money to live off of?
It’s not like the King paid demons like her.
Faust stood up, her spoils thrown over her shoulder in her own satchel. She made her way to the exit, not bothering to look back. After all, what would she even find? Everyone was knocked out.
“Is that what all this was for then?”
She froze.
Everyone except him.
Faust turned back, locking eyes with Maugor who sat up in his bed across the room. His stare was hard, hateful. Just like all the others. 
And it broke her heart.
She hardened her own resolve, staring back at him just as coldly.
“It was.”
“All of it?” he breathed.
“Yes.”
Maugor shook his head, clearly brokenhearted, but more than anything disgusted. It was a look that she hated to see on his sweet porcelain face. It truly didn’t belong there. 
“Are you gonna turn me in?”
He tsked, amazed that after everything that was happening here, that was all that she had to say.
“Just get out,” he growled, “You’re not worth the trouble.”
Faust smiled, a sad desolate smile she was sure that he would interpret as taunting, “I’m glad you realized that.”
Maugor just waved her out of the room, paying no mind to the treasures she’d collected. Let her have them. Let her have them for her sick, silly, pathetic demon life. 
And so she left.
She made her way out of the room, out of the tavern. Through the empty streets back to her little closet of a room in the military barracks. 
Feeling just a bit emptier than when she went in.
23 notes · View notes
barkely · 7 days
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you play dnd?
*sighs, unzips your pants*
10 notes · View notes
yandereheathen · 6 months
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What to do next <3
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practicingsmut · 7 months
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Dungeontober (a D&D themed kinktober event)
You heard it here first, folks. I'm doing a version of kinktober. It won't be a new fic coming out every day (obviously, since I'm posting this announcement on the 2nd) but my goal is to get a fic up every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, leading to a total of 13 fics.
What are the fics, you ask? They are D&D themed smutty one shots featuring the members of Seventeen as different D&D classes. This announcement post will double as a masterlist (assuming I remember to update it) so be sure to check back here for ones you might have missed.
I'm not picking specific kinks to go with each fic so it's not really kinktober, but this is my blog and I do what I want. I also acknowledge that "dungeontober" is probably already a thing but I literally couldn't think of anything else to call it so I'm using it.
Hope y'all enjoy!
Tuesday 3rd - paladin!Seungcheol x cleric!reader
Thursday 5th - cleric!Joshua x rogue!reader
Saturday 7th - rogue!Jeonghan x druid!reader
Tuesday 10th - druid!Soonyoung x bard!reader
Thursday 12th - bard!Seungkwan x artificer!reader
Saturday 14th - artificer!Jihoon x ranger!reader
Tuesday 17th - ranger!Seokmin x monk!reader
Thursday 19th - monk!Minghao x fighter!reader
Saturday 21st - fighter!Vernon x wizard!reader
Tuesday 24th - wizard!Jun x barbarian!reader
Thursday 26th - barbarian!Mingyu x sorcerer!reader
Saturday 28th - sorcerer!Wonwoo x warlock!reader
Tuesday 31st - warlock!Chan x paladin!reader
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astraechos · 2 months
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Lucas’ Magical Uses
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Synopsis: Home from saving the world the first time, Lucas had been ‘discovering’ what his magic can do for him. Magic aint all for fun, not for sexual pleasure. So, maybe he meeds some help and dad saves him from the confines of external sexual pleasure.
Tags: multiple orgasms; black tentacles (not the slimy kind, the good kind); magical mishaps; masturbation(?); Dad saves the day; somnophillia; anal; sex; aphrodisiacs; demons; needles; dungeons and dragons
A/N: To be fair, who hasn’t thought about pleasuring themselves if they had magic?; GIF unrelated
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Just under a week had passed since Lucas returned home from his lengthy journey. Obtaining The Sorrow’s Tears had turned into a year-long quest to annihilate the Void in the town of Bottom, an endeavor filled with excitement. Along the way, he encountered numerous fascinating individuals, delved into his family's history, and gained valuable insights into himself. Despite initial reservations, his father Alistair had become more open and supportive following Lucas's pivotal role in saving existence alongside his unlikely companions. Lucas also discovered his own unique magical abilities during this odyssey, which he now pondered in his room.
Contemplating the limitations and potential of his powers, he mulled over whether shadowspawn could manifest sexual tendencies, grappling with the stark duality of their emotions—Fear and Frenzy—both predominantly negative. Despite mastering the Arms of Hadar, he yearned for greater challenges. As he sat, thoughts swirling, he found himself yielding to the urge pulsating within him, his hand instinctively reaching for the source of his desire. Moments later, lost in sensation, he continued his introspection, his mind consumed by a myriad of thoughts and uncertainties.
Evard’s Black Tentacles... a form of restraint to start with. Hunger of Hadar, too, with their formidable strength and the remarkable mucus they produce... both would serve to restrain effectively, especially given my level of control over them...
A smile played on his lips as he continued, the surge of arousal clouding his judgment. It was a heady sensation, dulling the rational thoughts he would typically entertain to avoid future complications. A twitch of anticipation ran through him. He knew that if he didn't act on this idea soon, he might not act on it at all. Rising from his chair, he retrieved his chalk and placed his tear inset gem nearby. Shedding his shirt and extraneous robes, he recognized they would only hinder his movements.
With deliberate strokes, he began sketching circles and laying down ring wards for the creatures these tentacles would originate from. The rings, crafted from a pitch-black material, were now in place. With graceful hand gestures, he began weaving his chosen spell mixture. As he traced the air, his unique twist of power rendered the casting almost painless.
Surrounding him, the dark ebony tentacles emerged from the rift in space, their glossy black surfaces glistening in the sunlight, exuding a repulsive slime. As the viscous substance oozed onto the ground, its milky white hue stark against the darkness, he recoiled when it brushed against his face, hastily spitting out the intrusive fluid.
"I remember now why I sympathized with those who endured this," he muttered, grimacing at the unpleasant taste lingering in his mouth.
Inspecting each tentacle nervously, he acknowledged that while the Arms of Hadar were familiar, this manifestation was entirely different. With a telepathic command, he manipulated them, closing his eyes as they coiled around his limbs, lifting him gently into the air.
"Good. No signs of harm... everything seems in order," he reassured himself, the anticipation mounting within him.
Swiftly adjusting his position, he found himself suspended upright, limbs bound and on full display to any potential onlookers. Tension coursed through his body as the tentacles slithered up his thighs, securing his waist with an almost possessive grip.
Despite the revulsion he felt at the slimy residue trailing down his skin, there was an undeniable allure to the sensation of restraint and the otherworldly nature of the mucus. It ignited a primal excitement within him, evident in the arch of his back and the involuntary moan that escaped his lips as one tentacle encircled his chest, pushing him closer to the edge of ecstasy.
His arousal surged, his cock twitching impatiently, yearning for contact. Precum dribbled down his shaft, evidence of his heightened state of desire. With each movement, the tentacles slithered further up his back, their length never ceasing to astonish him. Urgency compelled his hips to thrust forward, craving more as the tentacles continued their ascent. Gradually, his mind relinquished all other thoughts, consumed by the intense focus demanded by the intricate spell weaving before him.
A tentacle encircled the base of his shaft, exerting pressure and leaving a trail of its mucus along his length. Despite the initial discomfort, he emitted a soft moan, finding the sensation tolerable as the tentacle wound its way up his shaft and around the head. With a gentle squeeze at the base and head of his member, the tentacle maintained a light grip, its slimy touch simultaneously repulsive and strangely pleasurable. It was an inexplicable sensation, yet he found himself enraptured by the tender caress of his own magical creation.
They slithered up his back, their slimy trails dripping down. Despite the grossness, he found the restrained sensation and the way their otherworldly mucus slid off him oddly arousing. His back arched as one wrapped around his chest, eliciting a small moan as he neared climax from such a seemingly insignificant touch.
Lucas moaned, his cries overpowering any other thoughts as the sensation of his shaft being stroked vigorously brought him immense pleasure. His mind grew hazy as the sensitivity of his back, a familiar sensation, was heightened by the slick slime. With a sudden thrust of his hips, his body jolted involuntarily.
"Aahn~!" He moaned, the sound escaping slightly louder than intended. His body surrendered to the pleasure, each twitch of his cock accompanied by the release of another rope of lust onto the tentacle coiled around him. Suspended in the air for several minutes, he panted as he struggled to collect his senses. His mind felt shrouded in fog, making it difficult to focus. He remembered he was supposed to assist his dad with a mission tonight but couldn't recall the details or the agreed-upon time. Glancing out the window, he tried to gauge the hour.
"It's already four, huh...? What did Dad need my help with again?"
Satisfied yet tired, he withdrew his arms from the tentacles. He was fortunate the spell didn't leave any residual mucus on his body; otherwise, he'd smell for a week. Attempting to pull his arm away again, he found the grip tightening instead.
"Oh, perhaps I can just dispel the spell. It should be fine. It's just magic."
Calmly, Lucas closed his eyes and gradually released his concentration. When he opened them again, he was still suspended in the air, supported only by his arms and waist, his legs firmly ensnared. Panic began to set in as Lucas struggled to figure out what to do next.
"Hey! What gives?!" he exclaimed, confused as he tugged at the tentacles. Though they had a slight give, they refused to release him. Despite feeling the source of his magic still under control within him, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Lucas struggled desperately to break free from the otherworldly entities he had inadvertently summoned into the physical realm. His eyes widened in horror as more ebony appendages emerged from the void below him, each one unfamiliar. One resembled an open flower pattern, another was rounded with a small feeler, while another took the shape of a cup with a tendril at the bottom.
His gaze fixated on one tentacle resembling a needle, its shiny contents swirling inside. Lucas swallowed nervously, his apprehension growing as it lunged towards him with surprising speed, jabbing into his side.
"That hurts!" he exclaimed, his body already sensitive from previous sensations. As the liquid drained into him, a searing pain spread throughout his body. Lucas recoiled, but the needle continued to squirt its contents, splashing onto his skin and even into his mouth, tasting sweet like sugar.
Panicked, he watched in horror as the liquid seemed to invigorate his body, his soft member rapidly stiffening to an uncomfortable hardness within seconds. Despite the pain, his arousal remained intense. Lucas sat there, bewildered and frightened.
"What the fuck was that? What the hell was just put into me? What in the—"
Suddenly, his mind and body began to relax involuntarily.
"Aahh...whatever it was..." he mumbled, his speech slurring as his vision blurred rapidly. "It sure feels good..." With that, his consciousness slipped away, his head drooping as his mind shut down completely.
———
Awakening later, Lucas found his head cradled by a smaller tentacle, its slimy counterpart inside his mouth, squirting an unknown substance into it. He swallowed as it filled his mouth, rendering him unable to speak. The taste was bitter and salty, reminiscent of a ration he once had that didn't sit right. Despite the discomfort, he slowly swallowed the rest of the substance, his head still foggy from the nap he had taken.
As his eyes adjusted, he could finally see the scene before him. The ebony-black tentacle in his mouth had rounded out and was now dripping with white mucus, retreating into the void below. He coughed, clearing his airways as a wave of pleasure washed over him all at once. "H-holy shit~!" he exclaimed, feeling waves of unbridled pleasure coursing up his spine, each pulse of ecstasy originating from his hips.
Glancing downward, he noticed himself encased within a cup-shaped tentacle. It completely enveloped him, with his underwear draped over its base. A smaller arm wrapped tightly around his balls, applying pressure and preventing them from slipping off. Lucas moaned loudly as his hips involuntarily thrust into the cupped arm, intensifying the sensation as he climaxed once more. It felt as though he was being milked of every drop he could provide. Gasping for air, his vision obscured by his hair, he attempted to pull his arms free but found them firmly held in place. With a stronger pull, he was yanked back into position. Whatever was happening, it was far from over, and he had no control over it.
His body craved more, his hips moving beyond his control as the cupped appendage brought intense pleasure to his sensitive cock. Unsure of how many times he had already ejaculated before waking up, he noticed it was now dripping with another white substance, likely his own.
"Aahh fuck-! N-Not again!" he stuttered, his body heaving as he released another load, sending ropes of himself into the dripping tentacle once more. His balls were quickly squeezed by the smaller appendage, intensifying his climax. Every fold of the tentacle seemed to lovingly caress his cock as it twitched for several minutes, each twitch accompanied by another small squirt. Lucas' body slumped, exhausted from the numerous climaxes he had experienced in one session. His glasses slipped from his face, clattering to the floor below, leaving him with limited visibility to only what was nearby. As he felt sure he was now producing nothing but water, he suddenly felt a stinging sensation on his side.
"Oh...that good feeling stuff..." he murmured, his body stiffening once more as the tentacle resumed squeezing and rubbing him. He writhed in discomfort as he was injected once again. The burning sensation returned, but this time he wasn't as fortunate to dislodge it. Held firmly in place, he could do nothing as it emptied its contents into him. A warm sensation spread throughout his body, restoring his energy and strength, though he knew what would follow once he fully recovered.
The tentacles holding him shifted, maneuvering him onto his back in midair. His arms were held above his head, and his legs were spread open, leaving his bottom exposed. Despite his efforts, he pulled against the tentacles once more, only to find himself gripped tighter as he struggled. "Please just let go! I'm tired! I can't give you anymore!" he pleaded, desperate for release. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, his throbbing length yearning for respite as it was kept forcefully erect.
Somewhat annoyed, a tentacle covered in his own cum shoved its way into his mouth, silencing him. The taste was sweet yet watery in its viscosity, and he pleaded with his mouth full as he was compelled to swallow every drop. Another tentacle then penetrated his body, coated in mucus, eliciting a whimper of pain from Lucas.
Tears streamed down his face as he winced in agony. His body felt vulnerable and exposed as the tentacle writhed inside him, exploring every inch of his being. Its smooth surface followed the contours of his muscles, its suckers grasping at the inner walls. In the mirror, he could see its form settling on a spot not too far inside him. The slimy arm rubbed against something, something pleasurable. He moaned, attempting to form words but failing as the pleasure overwhelmed him. Whatever it was that the tentacle touched, it elicited an incredibly intense sensation. His body arched involuntarily as the tentacle squeezed, triggering another climax. He released even more of his seed into the tentacle with full force, cumming harder than he ever thought possible.
His thoughts drifted as he felt utterly helpless, at the mercy of whatever entity he had summoned. He was plagued by questions: how had he done it? What was it? What did it want with him? And most importantly, how could he break free? Was it deriving pleasure from this?
Yet, despite the overwhelming sense of dread, there lingered a disturbing thought in the back of his mind: why was he enjoying it? It was an unsettling sensation, one he knew he should detest... and yet, he found himself inexplicably drawn to it.
Spitting out the tentacle in his mouth, he braced himself as the one inside him began to thrust in and out of his body. It was painful, his muscles tensing with each movement, but gradually, the pain began to subside as he relaxed.
"T-that's not exactly good..." he moaned, voicing his concern. "Can you go a little faster...?" he requested, surprised when the appendage complied. With increased speed, Lucas's cock throbbed with pleasure as it was sucked and squeezed by the eager entity.
"T-that's it... that feels wonderful...!" he moaned between heavy breaths, his enjoyment evident even as he subconsciously struggled against the tentacles. Despite his internal conflict, Lucas found himself relaxing, his mind and body now pursuing separate goals. Another wave of pleasure washed over him as he surrendered to the sensation, releasing another load of cum for whatever demonic entity held him captive.
"Ah... more please! Give me more of that wonderful aphrodisiac!" he begged, his voice filled with longing. A sharp stab in his shoulder signaled the draining of more substance into his body. This time, upon completion, Lucas's body arched as he released what he counted as his fourth or fifth load into the tentacle. He had finally surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.
Feeling his mind going blank, Lucas succumbed to the numbness of pleasure, his thoughts of escape fading away. His senses were overwhelmed by dopamine, oxytocin, and testosterone, leaving his brain feeling dull and his body overly sensitive.
"Yes! This is what I wanted! To feel like this! Don’t stop! Please, you can have as much as I can give!" he moaned, oblivious to the volume of his voice.
The entity, sensing Lucas's complete surrender, intensified its efforts, fueling his pleasure to new heights. With each movement, Lucas's body quivered with ecstasy, every touch sending shivers of delight coursing through him.
Lost in a haze of euphoria, Lucas's consciousness slipped further away, consumed by the overwhelming sensations. His mind, once filled with thoughts of resistance, now surrendered completely to the blissful oblivion offered by the tentacles.
As his moans of pleasure echoed through the room, Lucas relinquished any remaining semblance of control, giving himself entirely to the entity's desires. In that moment, all that mattered was the intoxicating pleasure enveloping him, drowning out any lingering thoughts of escape or resistance.
With each passing moment, Lucas descended deeper into the abyss of pleasure, his body and mind consumed by an insatiable craving for more. And as the entity continued to feed on his essence, Lucas found himself willingly offering all that he had, his desires merging seamlessly with those of his captor.
"Lucas?" a voice called out, the door creaking open slightly.
Lucas didn't bother to glance down at his father, who had evidently heard the commotion and come to check on his son. Alistair Len stood in shock at the scene unfolding before him.
From Len's perspective and knowledge, this wasn't merely a magic spell gone awry. This was something far more sinister—an actual demon. While Len was familiar with succubi, this entity was something entirely different. Its true name remained unknown, but it was undoubtedly under the influence of Asmodeus, Prince of Demons. One tentacle bore his mark—a whale—an indication that it belonged to the fifth circle, a realm accessible only to the most powerful and malevolent entities.
Asmodeus must be in need of offspring if he was dispatching a creature to harvest. Len speculated that there must already be an egg from a hapless woman, long gone by now...
With this chilling realization, Len understood that this demon would mercilessly pleasure its victims until their demise, consuming their bodies afterward to nourish the fiendish offspring it created. The demon required humanoid sperm to birth a monstrous entity—one capable of manipulating its form and wreaking havoc at will. It was a horrifying prospect, one Len dared not dwell on any longer.
"Dear mother earth... Lucas! What is this?! How did you summon it?!" he exclaimed, demanding answers from his son. Lucas disregarded his father’s words, his eyes rolling back as Alistair heard a voice pull at his mind—tired, desperate, and strained in its tone.
"Dad! Help me! I can’t control my body anymore! I’m so tired... I kinda want to go to sleep," pleaded Lucas.
"I’ll get you out of that thing. I’ll be back, so keep using this to talk as much as you can. Don’t fall asleep! How long has this been happening?" Alistair responded, determination in his reply as he hurried out of the room to search for a solution.
Len rushed downstairs, frantically searching and opening the bookcase's entryway in his haste.
"I-I’m not sure... I remember..." Lucas struggled to keep his thoughts coherent.
"Listen to me. What do you remember?" Len asked urgently, his panic growing as he searched for his powders.
"I remember... waking up after some time, the first time I was injected with whatever it had. I think maybe three hours have passed...? I lost count of time..." Lucas admitted.
"Okay, and how did this happen?" Len inquired, his mind racing as he tore apart his brewery in search of his precious powders. As he frantically searched, he realized that while the demon possessed formidable abilities, it was ultimately dependent on external sources of power. It functioned more like an incubator than a true demon, reminiscent of Praetor Variants in terms of its circle. Finally locating a bag of exorcism powder, Len coughed as its contents flew into the air. He knew this was exactly what he needed. Turning around, he rummaged through the nearby desk and found a piece of blue chalk before swiftly making his way back upstairs.
There was a long pause before Lucas replied, his voice filled with unconscious moans of pleasure. "I think I summoned it... God, this feels fantastic!"
That was the last thing Alistair wanted echoing in his mind.
"Lucas, focus for me. How did you summon it?" Alistair pressed, trying to maintain his composure.
"I mixed two spells to, uh... use for my own benefit," Lucas admitted, his tone somewhat flustered.
Len sighed heavily. He regretted not discussing these matters with Lucas sooner, instead confiding in Santiago or even Emily. He had already been concerned that Lucas might knock up his girlfriend unintentionally.
"Yeah, you’re at that age, Lucas. You shouldn’t use magic for sexual satisfaction. It can go haywire when you're distracted from controlling it, especially with your kind of magic," Len cautioned, his words laced with worry.
Returning to Lucas's room, Len was met with the distressing sight of his son ensnared in tendrils, tentacles, and covered in mucus. It was a sight he wished he hadn't seen and never wanted to witness again. Despite his apprehension, Alistair steeled himself. He had to find a way to free Lucas from this predicament.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Alistair approached Lucas cautiously, his mind racing with thoughts of how to break the spell. He knew he needed to act quickly before the situation escalated further.
“Lucas, listen to me carefully,” Alistair said, his voice firm but gentle. “I’m going to try to break the spell, but I need you to focus and help me, okay?”
Lucas nodded weakly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and relief at his father’s presence.
Alistair retrieved the bag of exorcism powder and the blue chalk from his pocket, his hands trembling slightly with the weight of responsibility. With deliberate movements, he began to draw intricate symbols on the floor around Lucas, forming a protective barrier. As he worked, Alistair chanted ancient incantations, channeling his energy into breaking the demonic hold on his son. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he poured every ounce of his being into the task at hand.
Suddenly, there was a faint tremor in the room, and the tendrils holding Lucas began to quiver and retract. He scattered handfuls of powder on the floor within the circle, focusing mainly on the edges of the opening. Next, he carefully placed the inky black rings amidst a mound of golden powders, ensuring they were thoroughly coated. With determined motions, he liberally sprinkled the powders over the tendrils ensnaring Lucas and over himself.
Returning to the smaller circle he had drawn, Len settled back down to commence the ritual. Seated with his legs crossed and hands clasped together, index fingers pressed against each other, he closed his eyes in deep concentration. Beneath his breath, he muttered incantations for minutes on end, his focus unyielding even as the house began to shake around them. Alistair remained steadfast, continuing the ritual as his son announced his seventh climax.
As the circles shimmered with an ethereal blue glow, a sudden flash of light filled the room, casting everything into temporary stillness and silence. Alistair's eyes snapped open to find his son lying naked on the ground, surrounded by lifeless tendrils and tentacles. With a sense of urgency, he approached Lucas, lifting him gently from the circle. Striking a match against the bed frame, he ignited the scattered powder with a determined flick of his wrist.
A horrifying, otherworldly scream pierced the air, causing Alistair to instinctively cover his ears in agony. The sound reverberated through the house, sending shivers down his spine as it rattled his eardrums. As the mass of limbs began to burn, consuming the chalk on the floor with fierce intensity, Alistair reached into his pocket and hurled a handful of golden powder into the air.
"That should purify the room now. No more demonic tendrils, and the connection to the realm and its portal has been severed," Alistair declared, retrieving Lucas' glasses and underwear.
Taking a moment to assess his son's condition, he noticed dark bruises and marks scattered across his body from where the tendrils had grasped him. While Lucas was still partially coated in drying mucus, it seemed to be flaking off in thin sheets. With gentle care, Alistair dressed Lucas in his underwear and placed his glasses back on, watching as his son gradually regained consciousness upon being laid on the bed.
"...Dad?" Lucas asked softly, his voice worn out. "What happened?"
"Well, Lucas... to put it simply... you summoned a demonic aberration by combining two spells, and that aberration was going to kill you by giving you immense sexual pleasure," Alistair explained bluntly. Lucas froze in shock.
"And it almost did," Alistair added with a sigh. "I was scared, you know, to lose you for the second time."
"I-I'm sorry," Lucas apologized, his voice raspy from the ordeal.
"Yeah. Don’t do that again. You might have the power to manipulate spells, but it doesn't mean you should use them for sexual pleasure, Lucas," Alistair admonished.
"Besides, there’s such a thing as birth control and your girlfriend," Alistar joked.
"I wouldn’t do anything like that with Emily unless she asked or made it obvious that's what she wanted," Lucas replied, looking over at his father.
"Wait... don’t encourage that, that’s terrible parenting!" Lucas laughed, his voice interrupted by a cough. Despite his weariness, he managed a bright and cheery smile.
"For now, you should get some rest, Lucas. You are probably very, VERY tired," Alistair advised, rising from his seat and making his way to the door.
"But don’t we need to hunt today? A banshee, was it?" Lucas asked, his voice weak.
"It can wait a few hours," Alistair reassured, tossing Lucas a vial of something as he headed out the door.
"Right now it’s underground, probably enjoying its unfortunate last meal. You should drink that, rest up, and we’ll head out," he instructed before leaving the room.
Lucas stared down at the vial, recognizing it as one of his dad’s peculiar potions known for their potent restorative properties. The liquid inside was a light, translucent purple, shimmering with magical energy.
"I hate it when the grape juice is useful," Lucas remarked, downing the vial in one gulp. He settled into his bed, his body aching from the ordeal. Despite feeling embarrassed and sore, he couldn't deny the soothing effects of the potion as it clouded his mind with pleasure and lulled him into sleep.
"Next time, I’ll just use what I know works instead of that mixture... I’d like to be around longer than nineteen years," Lucas mumbled to himself as he finally drifted off into a much-needed rest.
~~Masterlist~~
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bunnidarling · 4 months
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Excerpt from "A Natural":
“Never been too interested in girls.” Averyll breathed, letting his head loll back against Grimm’s chest as Claude teased his ear. He must know how sensitive ears were for anyone of elven blood. “I was fifteen when my…first-.” He cut himself off as Grimm’s large paw squeezed on his inner thigh. 
“And should clarify, I had never been with a man before I met Grimm,” Claude mused, “And now I can’t imagine anyone else by my side. Though, that’s what love does to you… I’m sure you’ll find that out sooner or later. Gods, it's hot when both of you stroke me like that. Hey babe, you kiss him too now. He’s not bad.” Averyll wondered if he would just be passed back and forth between them all night. Gods I hope so.
Averyll turned his head, shifting to better face Grimm as he ducked down, his kiss much rougher than Claude’s had been, with something wild simmering just beneath the surface. He pinched and plucked at Averyll’s nipples, his little cries muffled against his mouth. “Not bad at all,” Grimm said softly, breaking their kiss and leaning back again. “Why don’t you get him undressed, my treasure?” 
“Naturally, darling,” Claude smirked, smoothly sliding out of their embrace to stand behind them, erection pressing tenaciously against his tight chestnut-colored pants. He chose to ignore it for now. “Okay, this is what I’d like to see,” he mused as he took the little redhead’s lithe hands, guiding him into straddling his husband’s broad thighs properly, Averyll’s back to Grimm’s chest. His tunic was already askew, making it easy for Claude to tug it over Averyll’s head, exposing toned, sunkissed skin. “Hold his arms for me, please love?” Grimm folded Averyll’s arms behind his back, easily holding them at the wrists with one hand. 
“Oh, heavens, I wouldn't wanna leave any marks on a flawless body like that, unless… Do you like those kinds of things, Averyll? Little memories?” Claude got on his knees, unable to resist having a taste of the young man, stopping at his already furiously stiffened nipples. He circled his tongue before gently sucking on the rose-pink bud. Averyll’s eyelids fluttered as Claude teased him. “Feel free to make my body your canvas.” He purred, testing his arms against Grimm’s grip and finding no purchase. 
“If you want me to let go, just say,” Grimm said, feeling the struggle.
“Oh! I… I don’t. I… was just curious.” He’d already had dozens of romps and flings and even a few boyfriends in the five summers since his very first. In that time he had never experienced anything like what was happening to him now, and it felt as if a light had been lit in a room that had previously been dark. “I like it.” 
“Averyll, dear,” Claude said suddenly, his tone tender and sincere instead of sultry. “Could it be so that you are, in fact, very new to this, hmm? To being… Mastered?” 
“I…w-what?” he asked, his mind not quite grasping exactly what Claude meant, “Mastered?” Grimm squeezed his wrists in response.
“I have some words for you, sweetheart.” Claude stopped what he was doing, gently clasping the young man’s perfectly slanted shoulders, gazing sternly into his eyes. “Being dominated is wonderful, Averyll. It’s liberating, invigorating, it's… Like a balm for the soul. That’s why you must never let someone taint it for you, okay? Always consent . Always safety . You understand?” 
Mastered. Dominated. Wonderful. Liberating. Consent. Safety. He nodded, “I think so? I don’t really… fully understand what is happening, but I like it?” 
“You’ll see. You’re a good boy”, Claude praised him, giving him a pat on the cheek before diving back in,  the next instance continuing to nip and suck at his erected nipples with his hands on his hips as the bard squirmed in the men’s grip. 
Wow. He liked that too, even though didn’t understand the why of it. Already he felt safe with them, which was insanity because they were essentially strangers. You’re a good boy. Why did those words thrill him so? 
Grimm nodded to Claude with a smile, warm pride shining in his eyes as he gazed at his partner. “Good boy,” he echoed, though he wasn’t speaking to Averyll. A shade of red appeared on the tiefling’s cheeks, offering Averyll a peek of what kind of dynamic these two men had between them. Whatever it was, he was certain that they had perfected it like one perfected a fine art. “If you don’t want it, you’re not mastered. Just abused”, Claude added as a firm punctuation to this important lesson. 
“Let us imprint this wisdom on you, so you’re sure to not forget it. Grimm,” he said, pointing to a spot of soft skin just at the base of the ginger’s shoulder. “There.” Then, he placed his mouth at the opposite side, a little higher up at the neck, sinking his teeth carefully into supple flesh as he sucked at the spot. Averyll cried out, stifling himself as he realized his volume. He knew from extensive trials, that the wooden walls and doors were fairly well insulated, but sounds that were loud enough carried. Averyll now bore marks of sharp canines on one shoulder and tusks on the other.
Grimm caught Claude by the back of his head and pulled him to him, kissing him feverishly behind Averyll’s head. “You’re so good,” he said softly against Claude’s lips, “So very good.” 
Averyll’s cheeks flamed as he heard the wet smack of lips and murmured praise so close to his ear. He felt almost like an accessory to them. A plaything. His cock twitched against his pants at the thought. “Baby, I love you,” he could hear Claude purr blissfully, “you’re making me feel so fucking hot. I think I’ll need to fuck him soon. Turn him around, and we’ll ask him.” He knew Averyll could hear him, but he was still speaking only to his husband. His language had changed as well, using words that seemed unimaginable from when he first met him downstairs. 
The young man’s chest rose and fell with his quickened breath. “Yes,” he said softly, his voice dripping with lust. “I’d love that.” Get the whole story here:
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The aasimar and tiefling are in love because I said so.
Do not repost without my permission.
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gloppyfish · 1 year
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sex pollen fic
Pairing: Rowan Desai & Círdan (characters in the dnd party i’m in lol)
Warnings: sex… pollen…. sex pollen… overuse of hyphens and generally inaccurate depiction of gay butt sex… dubcon? (because pollen)
A/N: this is not going to be an enriching or satisfying read to anyone who does not know these characters i’m so sorry. but still read it please :D
——————
Rowan was gone.
Círdan had awoken from his trance, looked to his right, and seen sheets thrown back on a vacant bed. Laying on the bedside table was a precariously balanced pile of leather outer armor that his unwilling roommate had shed earlier in the night, but the man himself was nowhere to be found, the slight cave in his mattress and his left-behind leathers being the only indication that he was ever even there.
Círdan stared blankly at the empty mattress for a few beats before wheels and cogs finally began to turn in his brain. He was gone. Why was he gone?
The room was completely silent.
There was an empty spot, Círdan noticed, on the table beside the pile of armor and he was positive that Rowan’s dagger had been placed there when they had first retired to the room. The paladin had entered, faced the wall, stripped himself of his protective gear, and then placed his blade on the table, and the only reason that Círdan is certain this happened is because he’d been watching the other man’s movements intently as he de-armored himself, eyes fixated on the ripples of muscle visible when he stretched his arms. When Rowan had turned slightly to the side, Círdan quickly averted his gaze, eartips burning hot with shame.
The absence of the weapon was slightly worrying — what were the chances that Rowan had gotten into genuine trouble and had to leave armed and ready to fight? But then again, he would probably take his weapon with him on a simple midnight stroll just to have it within arm’s reach. He was fine. Probably.
Círdan chose not to worry or care too much. He was not in the mood to stress himself to the point of aneurysm only for Rowan to return nonchalantly in the morning from a nice night walk around town. Plus truthfully, he doubted Rowan would give a shit if the roles in this situation were switched. If anything, a sudden disappearance on Círdan’s part would probably just fuel Rowan’s obvious, likely prejudice-based suspicions about the Drow. It was hard to miss all of the sidelong glances and glares that Rowan loved to cast Círdan’s way, the message obvious: I don’t trust you. Every other member of the ragtag group Círdan found himself working alongside had been accepting of him despite his dark lineage, but Rowan — lone wolf, self righteous, pain in the ass Rowan — was the only one to show malice of any kind. So why should he have to give half a shit where the brute had skittered off to?
The most fucked up, anger inducing aspect of it all, however, was that Rowan was a fucking looker. He was the phrase ‘tall, dark, and handsome’ personified, but with additional adjectives added on like ‘isolated’ and ‘probably kind of racist.’ If Círdan lacked self respect, there would be nothing stopping him from diving head first into fantasies about the paladin, but the case was simple: Rowan disliked Círdan and Círdan disliked him back. The occasional glances that he stole were only natural.
A sigh sounded throughout the small bedroom as he hauled himself to the edge of the bed and touched his feet to the carpeted floor. It was soft underfoot as he walked to the wide window on the far wall, running his index along the deep ridges and etched designs on the dark stained windowsill and staring out into the shadows beyond. Unlit lamps stood tall, brittle grass brushed in the wind, the streets empty — quite the stark contrast to how lively Phandalin was in the light hours. Streets bustling with life, vendors dotting the paved roads with their carts stock full of various foodstuffs and trinkets for sale. A lovely town, truly, with just the tiniest smidge of gang activity. Pros and cons. Círdan could picture himself eventually settling in a place like this, where everyone knows everyone and everyone likes everyone, for the most part. It worked for some distant, vague future he could possibly see himself in. But for now he was fine nomadic, married to a life of travel and adventure and service to Rhemus, because that’s what he had grown familiar with. It was his own little loose routine and it defined him. He half feared that settling down would make him lose his spark. That concept scared him; he resigned to not thinking about it most days, staying wholly in the present.
With one hand propping up his head, Círdan continued to stare, slipping out of reality. He stayed that way for a while, in a sort of half-trance state, before he picked up on a subtle noise — an almost imperceptible shh shh shh coming from a direction he couldn’t quite place. He blinked once, twice, before shaking his head to regain clarity. He honed in on the sound, focused hard to try and hear it again.
Shh shh. Chh.
He craned his neck back to stare at the door, nearly positive that that was where the sound was coming from. Heartbeat quickening, he stared, noticing the subtle shift of the doorknob, as if someone was struggling to enter. Círdan ghosted his hand over the dagger still attached to the belt draped across his waist.
With a creak, the door slid open painfully slowly. Instead of a criminal, it was Rowan who staggered in, and he looked like a mess. Certainly the most disheveled Círdan has ever seen him during their short tenure as colleagues — and that was saying a lot, as they’d gone through strenuous battle together.
His hair was slick with sweat at his forehead, stuck in thin strands against his skin. He was leaning against the doorframe, fists clenched, gaze downcast.
Círdan just stared, unsure of what to do or say. Clearly something was wrong with the man, but he couldn’t tell what. There were no visible wounds or tears in his garments, but his eyes were half lidded like he was on the verge of collapse.
“Rowan?”
His gaze snapped up to meet Círdan’s quickly. He looked almost startled to hear the other man speak. He didn’t respond, just stood there, hunched slightly with a heaving chest.
“Rowan?” Círdan repeated.
“You need— to leave,” Rowan finally punched out.
His voice was so strained and gravelly and genuinely urgent that Círdan felt goosebumps prickle the back of his spine.
The taller man entered the room with a stumble and headed to his bedside table. He fumbled with his waistband for a second before pulling out his dagger and placing it down. He didn’t turn around after that, stayed facing the wall behind the table, shoulders taut and full of visible tension.
“What? Why? What’s wrong with you?”
“It doesn’t matter, you— you need to go.”
Círdan was getting nervous. “Why? Is someone coming?“
“No— fuck,” Rowan cursed. His body trembled with every breath, and it was so incredibly unnatural to see a man who was normally so stoic looking like he was on the precipice of complete chaos. “Someone…. I was out…” His words were half-slurred as he tripped over them and Círdan felt urgency and dread beat harshly in his chest like a snare drum. He took a half-step back, uncertain.
“I went out…outside. Fresh air,” Rowan struggled to say, “and there was a— a Red Brand. Looking to do some kind of tradeoff, I think…” It sounded like it was taking genuine effort for him to get words out, let alone string them together coherently. He swallowed thickly, wetting his lips and turning his head slightly to the side so half of his face was revealed to Círdan. “He had these vials, was acting real sketchy. I got up, he got nervous. Emptied a— a whole vial in my face.”
“So… what?” Círdan asked, fidgeting with his sleeve nervously. “What was in the vial?”
Rowan didn’t answer, just turned his head back to stare blankly at the wall. He was relatively still, the only indicator of his inner turmoil being his hands gripping the edges of the table hard, knuckles white from the force of it.
“Rowan?“ Círdan prompted again. Silence was bad. Maybe it was poison. Maybe he was about to keel over and fucking die on the dusty inn floor.
“You need to leave,” Rowan repeated darkly.
“Stop fucking saying that. Tell me what was in the vial.”
“This is so– fucking stupid.” Rowan turned fully then. He looked frantic in the way a caged animal would be. “Why is it so important for you to know every little detail? Why can’t you just listen to me?” Beads of sweat slid down his neck, collecting on his already damp undershirt.
Círdan would have been pissed at his tone if the circumstances were different, but the pure desperation in the other man’s voice amplified his worry tenfold.
“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” he said.
“You don’t want to help,” Rowan huffed, voice lifting at the end of his short sentence, almost like he was holding back a dry laugh.
“I do.”
“No, you don’t understand. You don’t… shit—“ Rowan’s voice cracked at the curse and he wrenched his gaze away, staring at the floor. He almost looked embarrassed with just how flushed and sweaty he was and his newfound aversion to eye contact. Rowan brought a hand quickly down to the waistband of his pants to fidget with it, and it was then when Círdan noticed.
There was a bulge in Rowan’s pants.
He stared.
Rowan breathed heavily, looked back up, immediately seeming to notice the line of sight Círdan had adopted.He turned slightly sideways in what was likely an attempt to cover his erection and regain his decency.
An incredibly awkward silence smothered the two before Rowan cleared his throat. “Aphrodisiac,” he said, curt with the delivery of the word and visibly uncomfortable.
Círdan would have laughed — he almost did, at the absurdity of it. He had no idea how to even begin to process this information, so he just took another step back and offered a quiet “oh.”
“I think it was crushed myllum root. It… has a smell to it, and— shit… you need to go.”
Embarrassment crept its way up the Drow’s spine like a vine snaking up an abandoned building. All this time, Rowan had been practically begging him to leave so he could fucking relieve himself, and Círdan had stayed, continued pestering the guy as liquid sex was pumping throughout his body.
“What, uh— what are you going to do?” Círdan stammered, and he hit himself mentally for asking. For not just making a beeline to the door and getting himself out of the situation. He didn’t know why he felt so compelled to stay and work through this situation like it was anything that concerned him.
“Fuck, Círdan,” Rowan said, “you need to go.”
Círdan’s heart stuttered at that, the way his name sounded being pushed out of Rowan’s mouth in a plea. He took note of the raw desperation, and wondered what was going through the paladin’s head. What he’d do if Círdan stayed.
Slow steps took the Drow closer to Rowan’s shuddering form. He put up a hand to halt his approach.
“No,” he pushed out, but the previous conviction in his tone was gone. He stared down at Círdan, the only thing between the two being the taller man’s raised arm.
Círdan stopped, stayed still for a few beats as he contemplated how to phrase his thoughts. “I can help you,” he said, “if you want.”
Rowan didn’t answer. Or move. Círdan wasn’t sure if he was even breathing.
“Rowan.”
Still, silence.
As seconds ticked by, the tension in the room shifted from that of the sexual kind to the devastatingly awkward kind, and it was so stifling that Círdan had to take a step back. Rowan kept staring at him with blown pupils, brows stitched together in what could have been pain, or lust, or embarrassment – or a very uncomfortable mix of the three.
Cirdan opened his mouth to say something, but any and all words had fled his mind. He felt embarrassed now, standing there aimlessly as he desperately searched for words to repair the state of the situation. Obviously he’d crossed some boundary; he had not been thinking straight, and had made things worse for all parties involved. Now that the heat of the moment had subsided, and Cirdan had the time to actually think about his actions, he realized that maybe what he’d done was totally, out-of-this-world fucked up. Rowan – his half-acquaintance, half-enemy – had stumbled into the room with brain and body addled by aphrodisiac, and the only way Cirdan had thought to help was to essentially force himself on the drugged man. Fuck.
“Look–” he started, “I think… I’m sorry if I– if I overstepped, in any way. I– Shit, I thought – Well, I don’t know what I thought–”
“Fuck. Shut up.”
Cirdan immediately stopped his rambling, mind going blank at the unexpected interruption.
Rowan, with his chest still heaving, took a step forward, and something had changed. Cirdan could tell through key subtleties that something was different: Rowan held himself up straighter, had unclenched his fists, and his eyes – they looked almost fucking predatory with how they stared unwaveringly at Cirdan’s frozen form.
“Just – go to the bed.”
“Rowan?” Círdan croaked with a suddenly dry mouth. “No, no, it’s okay, you really don’t have to—“
“Fucking shut up. Bed.”
Never in Círdan’s life had his heartbeat been so erratic. Never had his blood rushed so loudly in his ears. Also — never had he been this embarrassingly stiff in his pants. He half-thought that all of this was some fabrication created by his mind and that he’d blink awake to soon realize that none of this was real.
When Círdan made no effort to move, still in visible shock, Rowan stormed toward him. Within mere moments, Círdan was being shoved back and downwards onto Rowan’s mattress, with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs. The taller man towered over the Drow in silence for a moment, perhaps contemplating, perhaps preparing himself, but before long he was back in motion, and it was almost too much. He shoved his knee between Círdan’s thighs so it rested snug against his crotch and brought a large hand down to firmly grasp his face, so tight it burned. Círdan could feel the heat radiating off of Rowan’s body, and was aware of his own temperature rising due to raw lust alone. His cock throbbed within the confines of his pants and the unrelenting pressure of Rowan’s knee was not helping at all. They’d just begun doing whatever this was and he already felt like he was on the verge of orgasm.
“F-Fuck, Rowan—,”
“Shh.”
Rowan’s grip on Círdan’s face got impossibly tighter. His hand trembled slightly.
“P-Pretty,” he muttered as he stared down.
Círdan’s heart stuttered in his chest. He tried to not think about how intimate this all felt. He knew it wasn’t Rowan’s intention to spew such strangely soft words at him, that this was all the work of the pollen. Some place deep within him ached and he did not want to go down the road of pondering why, did not want to open that can of worms. He opted for clutching Rowan’s shirt and pulling him down, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to have this onslaught of negative thoughts fucked out of existence.
Instead of succumbing to Círdan’s will, Rowan held his ground. He did not allow himself to be pulled downwards; he darted up to snag Círdan’s wandering hand and pin it down to the bed above his head.
“N-Not yet,” he said, sounding feverish. He adjusted himself so his knee was no longer pressed against Círdan’s dick, replacing it with his hand, palming him rough through his pants.
“F—fuck,” Círdan whimpered. Through his pleasure bled confusion; he’d assumed that sex with someone under the heavy influence of an aphrodisiac would be quick and to-the-point, the goal being reaching orgasm as fast as possible. But Rowan was taking painfully long to get to the point, relishing in foreplay instead of just fucking him like Círdan thought they had both desperately wanted. Círdan didn’t want to cum before the two had the chance to actually fuck, and it was starting to feel like he might.
Rowan’s touching did not cease. He kept on rubbing and teasing Círdan through his pants and grunting in response to every moan and mewl. He dropped the hand he had pinned and went to pull Círdan’s pants down, revealing his bulge in his underwear. The imprint of his dick against the fabric was clear as day, with a spot of wetness where his tip strained against it. Rowan ran his thumb along the tip over and over, watching as the spot got darker and wider by the second. Círdan bucked his hips up slightly with every run of Rowan’s finger.
“Rowan— fuck, Rowan, please—“
“Ple—please what?” Rowan’s voice cracked as he spoke, and when Círdan looked down, he saw that Rowan had taken to rubbing himself through his own pants. The sight alone almost made Círdan finish.
“Fuck— just… just fuck me already.”
Rowan groaned at that, but he didn’t listen. He made no move to flip Círdan over. What he did do, however, was momentarily stop his movements to hook his finger under the seam of Círdan’s underwear, and so frustratingly slowly, tug downwards until his dick was free of any restraints. Círdan felt his face go warm and he was acutely aware of the rapid rise and fall of his chest and stomach as he took quick, embarrassed breaths. Cum was leaking out of his tip and down his cock in thin wet lines as he twitched from sensitivity and lack of stimulation. It no longer mattered to him whether he was fucked or just touched — all he knew was that he desperately needed to cum.
“Please…” he whined.
Rowan was panting like an animal. He threw Círdan’s underwear somewhere off to the side and brought a large hand up to his length, brushing his thumb along the wetness. Círdan shuddered.
“Fuck,” Rowan muttered. He brought his hand forward slightly more and closed it around Círdan’s shaft, giving a few experimental pumps. The sound Círdan let out was guttural. His eyes screwed shut, his head fell back against the bed, his entire body clenched up so insanely tight he felt like he could snap in half from the tension. Rowan breathed heavy, going faster with his movements. “Yeah? You— you like that?” he asked, voice laced with lust. Círdan didn’t answer. He barely even processed the question with how clouded his brain was — he just bucked his hips upwards continuously, chasing the orgasm he felt steadily approaching. His lower half felt like it was burning and he was close, he was so, so, so close, he felt the muscles in his lower body contract in preparation, but then—
All at once, it stopped. The sensations ceased, the pleasure ceased. Círdan felt his heart stutter in devastation at the loss of touch. His dick was painfully hard and leaking a steady stream of precum. When he opened his eyes to figure out why Rowan had stopped, he saw that the other man had propped himself up on his knees further back on the bed. Frustration ran harsh through Círdan’s body. “Why’d you—“
“Flip over,” Rowan interrupted bluntly. A wave of arousal crested and crashed in Círdan’s stomach at the command, followed by an even larger wave of indignation. He didn’t want to comply, his mind was too fogged, too focused on immediate release. His mouth opened again to form a retort, but before any sound left his throat, Rowan was back to making demands. “Flip over,” he repeated darkly, bringing his hand down to tightly grip Círdan’s thigh so hard it hurt. Círdan sucked in a quick gasp of air at the pain.
“Or do you want me to do it for you?” Rowan continued after another stretch of silence. He left no time for a response: as soon as the demand left his mouth he was moving, wedging a strong arm under the small of Círdan’s back and hauling him upwards so he was in a half-sitting position. After that it was quick as lightning, the singular, effortless, rather aggressive motion it took for Rowan to flip Círdan over so his face and chest were flush to the mattress and his ass was pointed up. Rowan’s hand pressed down hard on the top of Círdan’s back.
“Fuck— ow—“ Círdan exclaimed, voice muffled.
Rowan did not relent in his force. He kept one hand holding Círdan down, and used the other to start undoing his own belt buckle.
Círdan was breathing in heavy pants born of mingled pain and pleasure. He shifted his legs slightly to try to get into a more comfortable position, but it was hard when Rowan was holding him down so intensely. He heard the clinking and shuffling stop behind him and felt his heart race with anticipation.
“Fuck,” Rowan breathed, voice thick with a desperate kind of lust Círdan had never encountered before. “T-Tell me you want it.”
Círdan felt his dick twitch at the words; he was so worked up he could cry. “I-I want it, Rowan. Please, please.”
“Fuck—“ Rowan sputtered. He edged slightly forward so the fronts of his thighs brushed against Círdan’s ass. It took a few more moments of adjustment and fiddling with his fly, but soon, Rowan’s dick was pressing hard against Círdan’s skin.
“R-Ready?” Rowan asked. He lined the head of his dick up with Círdan’s hole.
“Yes, yes, just fuck me already—“
Rowan pushed his hips forward. He went halfway in, paused for a moment, perhaps to adjust to the newfound tightness, and then seconds later was all the way in, balls pressed tight up against Círdan’s ass.
Círdan felt drunk with pleasure and pain and every other feeling the elven body was capable of experiencing. Rowan’s dick was huge, and it hurt, and it felt amazing, and Círdan was already so close to finishing that he had to coil the muscles in his lower abdomen to dissuade the ever-approaching wave of orgasm.
“F—Fuck — Rowan…” Círdan cried out. He was trying to thrust his own hips forward to give his dick some much needed friction, but Rowan’s force made it impossible. He could not do anything more than lay there and take it.
“Shh—shit, baby,” Rowan pushed through clenched teeth, “fuck— take it, take it…”
Círdan felt his eyes water from pure stimulation. Never in a million years would he have guessed that this is how the night was going to go, with him being fucked deep on an inn mattress by a man he so desperately wanted to dislike. His eyes were screwed shut on account of the fact that they would probably be crossed had he opened them, and he was pushing back onto Rowan’s dick to the best of his ability, wanting him deeper and harder.
“Fuck—ing s-slut,” Rowan slurred. “Wanted— wanted this since I first — shit — first saw you.”
The admission made Círdan’s stomach churn with arousal and something else, something dangerous.
“Prett—y thing, fucking annoying little…” His voice trailed off into more pants and grunts. He was close, Círdan could tell. His thrusts were getting sloppier, his sounds more frantic.
“Fuck— Círdan…”
Círdan knew the sound of his name on the paladin’s lips would not soon leave his mind. He felt like crying for ten million separate reasons, the most significant one being his too-potent pleasure, his desperate desire for release. He was on the edge.
“Fuck. Fuck, I’m gonna—“
The feeling of Rowan’s warm cum spilling inside of him was all it took for Círdan to come undone. His orgasm hit him like a tidal wave: he let out a loud groan and bucked his hips wildly onto the bedsheet, relishing in the feeling of his own seed painting the bed below him. Rowan was still fucking him, messily now, with unsteady thrusts and a loosened grip.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Rowan repeated as he neared the end of his climax. He began to slow his movements gradually until he came to a complete stop.
Círdan’s orgasm used up any energy that had been left in him. He laid still on the bed like a ragdoll, ass pointed upwards and full of Rowan’s cum.
After a beat, Rowan slid himself out. He got off of Círdan and collapsed on the mattress beside him, apparently just as spent and exhausted. They laid there in silence in their own mess of sweat and semen, eyes closed, not acknowledging one another at all as they regained their senses.
Now that Círdan’s throbbing arousal was ebbing, he had time to really think about what had just happened and the potential repercussions of it. This could have very well ruined everything. There was a good chance that now that the pollen had left Rowan’s system, he would realize this whole thing was a big, irreversible mistake. His heart rate quickened at the thought, and he was suddenly consumed by the overwhelming urge to be made privy to everything that was going on in Rowan’s mind. He looked over to the paladin, noticing he was staring blankly at the ceiling.
“So…” Círdan spoke out into the silence. He shifted himself so he was no longer on his stomach but facing Rowan with his head propped up on his arm.
Rowan did not reply.
“So,” Círdan repeated, “do you, uh— Well, that was—“
“We— don’t have to talk about it.”
Círdan felt a pang of embarrassment. This had definitely ruined everything. He began to formulate the first draft of a departure plan in his head, because surely he’d need to find an entirely new circle of people, adopt a new way of life far, far away so he would not have to think about any of this ever again. “Right, yeah,” he said. He blinked away stinging tears and cursed himself for even having tears to blink away in the first place. “Sorry if this fucked things up.”
Rowan turned his head to the side and looked at Círdan. Círdan looked back and noticed a slight frown on his face. They just stared at each other for a second.
Rowan cleared his throat. “It was good,” he said. “It— You helped. Thank you.” His tone was the gentlest Círdan had ever heard it. A flight of butterflies erupted in his stomach, and he was at a loss for words for what felt like the tenth time that night.
Círdan let out a short breath of relief. “I’m glad I could help.”
Rowan gave back the slightest smirk, but it was gone within a fraction of a second.
He turned back to face the ceiling.
“Probably gonna interfere with work, though,” he said, voice back to being all monotone and disinterested like usual.
“Yeah, maybe,” Círdan replied with a smile, and for the first time in a while, he felt content.
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sharksssm · 6 months
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i have a new email/tumblr/ao3 specifically for *smut* and i am still convinced someone will read it and go 'ah yep, thats (name)' why am i like this
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2hai4you · 1 year
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Dirty DM 😈
Since I'm a forever DM I have made lots of characters for d&d and I'm thinking about sharing them here and doing some naughty NSFW headcanons on some of my favorite ones. So I can write some juicy smut or some fun requests
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astraechos · 1 month
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Art by me! 🥹❤️
🔪Meet Feyre!🩸
“I don’t have time for this. Is it a deal or not?”
Originally adopted as a baby by the richest family in Starkey, the Sundrop Family, she lives with her windowed father, Dubvyn Sundrop. While Feyre never knew the woman he married, she assumes she is a wonderful woman who brought him happiness.
When asked, Dubvyn told her many stories of his wife, Rea. Some about how she was unable to have children. How she cared for many or the orphans at the orphanage she worked at one city over, and how selfless she was to everyone she met. This drove Dubvyn to give her the life she deserved, carefree and well supported. Throughout Feyre’s life, Dubvyn told her hat she has brought him joy and happiness in his life since his wife’s passing.
Soon after her 10th birthday, Dubvyn had began seeing new women in attempt to give Feyre a mother whom she could talk to and relate with. Feyre met many, but none seemed to strike the fancy of his previous wife, Rea. A few had stuck around, but Feyre found they all had ill intentions after they had done the damage to her father. With distrust for women, Feyre decided she would be the one to pass judgement upon these women as she failed to investigate them further. She decided nobody would hurt her father anymore. A will so strong that the goddess of love Sune, was drawn and approached the small fairy, offering her a way to handle these women who broke the laws of love: an ever-changing weapon and the power of curses in exchange for protecting the ones she loved.
Soon after her 14th birthday, an Eladrin woman named Misa had found her way into her home. To Feyre, Misa was fine at first. She managed to always find a way to shrink herself to the size of them amd kept her father company. He smiled, but he did with the other women she noted. Feyre stalked Misa, keeping notes and tabs on her as she found she had another lover. Another Eladrin. Feyre found what she looked for.
Feyre followed Misa, recruiting an owlbear to raid her home. Learning the locks, Feyre struck with her owl bear as she sat atop a shelf. Misa spotted the small fairy as she cried for help. Feyre smiled, asking her why she should help somebody out to harm her father? Without staying around, Feyre found protecting her father was easier than she thought, naming Misa her first victim.
For years, this continued as Feyre grew more confident in her vow to Sune, gaining the attention of the gods, Myrkul and Bhaal. Blessing the small fairy, her victim’s deaths pleased the gods as it eventually named her as the The Moonlgiht Killer, as she always struck at night. While still not found identified, the fairy world and the Feywild viewed her promise as pure evil. This sent her to Ravenloft when she struck one night, the mist wrapping the area as Feyre made her way home.
~Masterlist~
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