#bg3 smut

[galeorderbride]

Forgiving the Flame for a Burn - Zevlor x F!Tav Fic Request

An angst/comfort/smut piece for @evocationwriter. Thank you so much for asking me to do this piece, I adore you! Xx

This is SMUT (tags/details below)

18+ MDNI

Summary:

One year after the defeat of the Elder Brain, Tav is trying to settle into daily life. But being a hero means the making of enemies, and Tav ends up on the wrong side of the city, with the wrong kinds of people.

That is, until a charming, former Hellrider steps in, saving her from the worst and taking her into his home for the night.

Tags: angst, comfort, smut. Unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), light orgasm denial, tail play, tiefling anatomy (infernal ridges, forked tongue), religious language used; some detailed depictions of a violent attack (beating to be specific)

Word count: 5k

Zevlor x F!Tav

No one talks about the end of a hero’s journey. Tav found herself thinking of that often, ever since the Elder Brain fell by the hand of her and her companions. Subjects of bard’s songs and children’s puppet performances, all of them bending to the whim of ‘thank yous’ and questions about adventures. All of them fading over time into nothing. People moved on, they had to, of course. Rebuilding homes, restarting businesses, schools and cleaning up parks. Life went on, and the looks of admiration as she’d wander the streets dissolved.

Needless to say, that wasn’t all bad. Walking around the city gave her a sense of anonymity she’d missed in the year since the brain’s defeat. While she had fond memories of children asking for autographs and telling tales at the Elfsong to curious attendees, the harassment and threats from those who felt nostalgia for the cult of the Absolute soured the experience. Every time she’d think about it, memories of Stone Lord exiles and concealed Banites taunting her with torture fled to mind.

Now, she could relax. Bask in the beauty of city living with no one to bother her (other than letters from her companions and comrades, which always excited her). Evening slowly began to fall, a wondrous sunset disembarking for the night as shopkeepers lit sconces outside their doors and brought in their signs. Fishmongers and tradesmen met in the streets to coalesce at either the Blushing Mermaid or the Elfsong. Parents corralled their children to follow them home after a day at the markets. Tav walked among them, smiling at the peace of normality she’d never forget again.

On nights like this one, Tav would look up above the Elfsong and see Alfira strumming her lute on the balcony. By now, she’d been giving lessons to children at her very own music studio for the last three or four months. Even then, she’d still go up to that rooftop and sing her heart out. Tav felt remorse every time she gazed upon the dazzling tiefling, guilt in her heart that, rather than enjoy the music, her soul yearned for the presence of a different tiefling entirely.

A year since she saw Zevlor at the final battle. A year since she’d discovered he survived. A year—and not a single letter. Everyone else reached out to her but him. In the weeks following, she wracked her brain for anything she might’ve said wrong. Any word that could be taken as an insult. Only he knew, and that would be just so forever.

She ignored the chest aches now, and the tingling in her abdomen that sometimes made her knees shake. Hoping one day they’d fade away like her fame. One outlived the other.

Was he even in Baldur’s Gate anymore?

Clearing her throat, she kept walking. Straightening her shoulders. New bottles of dye clinked against each other in her basket, held close to her stomach. In her daydream, the clock tower struck nine, startling her as she realized she’d been standing there for too long.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, forced to face her newfound fear of walking alone outside ever since anonymous former cultists began to harass her. She chastised herself for going today, irritated that she didn’t just wait until tomorrow morning.

Sticking to the main road, Tav hurried her step through the emptying streets. The end of a tenday, people looking for a rowdy night out were trickling into every space they could get drunk. Irrationality kicked in, everyone became an enemy, and no one had even noticed her yet. She repeated in her mind: Tav, get yourself together, you fought an elder brain. You can take anything a mere civilian can hit you with. Just walk.

Halfway home, things were normal. Everyone ignored her, and she felt her shoulders begin to calm as she neared her destination. The sky grew dark, only the light of the crescent moon peering behind the overcast lit her way. Little droplets of rain began to dot her face, she lifted her cape hood for shelter. Right as heavy footsteps trailed behind. The jungle of buckled boots and a person at least twice her size, she could discern that without even looking.

“The hero of Baldur’s Gate! Walking about these parts alone at night. Guess you don’t need brains to be a saviour, huh?” The voice behind her said. A man with a gravelly voice, slurred with drunkenness and malice.

Tav tried to ignore him, swallowing her fear as she kept walking at a brisk stride. One or two minutes and she’d be home. Counting the seconds, in tandem with the footsteps continuing to pursue her. Now in a quiet street, no one was around to help or witness whatever the man behind her had planned.

“Don’t run off so quick, sweet one! Sing me one of those ballads made about you! Bet it’ll sound sweet gurgling out of your throat when I cut it!” He chided, a growl so feral within him she could mistake him for a wild animal.

Another voice poked through an alleyway she passed, another men bumping her with his shoulder, rough enough to send her steps back against a wall. He said, “Father will love this at his temple doorstep, brother.”

Bhaalists. She should’ve known the ones to keep pestering her after all this time would be them. Likely a worse nightmare than anyone else, given their propensity for insane, maniacal violence. Were they even drunk? Or was that a farce to blend in with the city?

“Leave me be! I’ve killed more than you for less,” she said, sucking in her frightened breath.

Both of them cornered her, trudging towards her and beginning to push her around between the two. Smaller than both of them, she struggled to fight back as her basket of dyes shattered to the ground. Catching them off guard just quick enough for her to throw a punch in the face of one. He fell back, grunting in pain as the other smacked Tav against the brick wall. A sharp ache ran across her spine, the wind knocked out of her to completion when the one she punched slammed his fist into her stomach.

Gasping for breath, they let her collapse to the ground. Holding her abdomen tight, the roof of her mouth dryer than sand. Catching impossible air as the two paced around her, predators toying with their prey. That hit to her stomach so hard that she couldn’t find the strength to get up let alone fight back. Gods, was she really done in so quickly? Had she softened so much in just a year?

Most of the time, they were four at least. Now, she was one. And defeated in a matter of minutes. Dye stained her clothing as she twitched around the ground, feeling a harsh sting of hands clawing at her hair, pulling her back.

“Not so heroic now, are you?” The one that held her hair teased, giggles oozing with evil.

“Enough dawdling,” said the other, sheathing out a sharp, shining knife. “Tie her up to take her to the temple.”

Right when they began to tie the rope around her, a swing of a longsword sliced across one’s throat. Tav didn’t see all of it, still reeling from the punch. But the second one began to fight against her rescuer. Behind her writhing body, the sound of punching, stabbing and armour sliding against leather permeated the air.

And then nothing. Quiet air mixing with laboured breath, a few growling sighs to follow. Ones she recognized after a few seconds. A calming but assertive tone that used to excite her beyond belief.

“Z—,” she tried to say his name, but coughed instead. Recovering from the punch to the gut, breathless all the same.

Warm arms wrapped around her, lifted into an embrace healing her in seconds. Heat coursing within each injured vein, the tender flesh of a tiefling’s hold. Her head hung back against his arm, aching stomach muscles jolting. But the rest of her soul eased with the shelter of safety, letting him take her wherever he deemed right.

It could’ve been minutes. Or hours. Awakening in a soft bed covered in thick furs and clean sheets. Glowing candlelight against stone walls and the blurry flame of a burning fireplace. Sparks flew across the mantle as a broad shouldered, tailed man threw another log in. Trickling liquid poured from a clay pot, steaming scents of green tea and lemon soothing her into full awareness. No more pain, other than a small ache in her abdomen. For a second, she wondered if she’d died.

Tav shifted on the mattress, wincing from her sore muscles. At the corner of her eye were her dye-soaked clothes, hanging to dry after being washed. Bare arms and legs slid around the linen fabric of her ivory slip. Hair swept back from her face in a loose, well done braid.

“Am I dead?” She whispered, groaning out remnants of her voice as if she’d forgotten she had one.

The man turned from the fireplace, rushing to the bedside. Seating himself on the stool directly next to her, she could clearly make out the weathered, handsome features of Zevlor. Pouring tea like an old friend, not someone who’d been silent for a year.

“Not dead, Tav. You can’t imagine how glad I am that you’re awake. After those mongrels attacked you…I feared the worst,” he said, handing her the small cup as she sat up. Zevlor outstretched his hand as she winced, but pulled back before he could touch her.

Her eyes closed with the peace of green tea on the tongue. Pushing away the thoughts of the attack, burdened by yet another memory of pain. She chose another route, “You saved me. I don’t know how you found me but thank you, I owe you for such a gesture.”

With a cordial nod of a soldier, he said, “Think nothing of it. I—well, it’s a long story but I’ve made a living through private security. I was coming home from a job when I saw you in the street. Found you just in time before you slipped into that alleyway.”

She cupped the mug in her hands, resting on her cross-legged lap. A skipped beat of her heart went aflutter when she caught Zevlor’s eyes linger over her bare legs, and back to her face in a split second.

“I didn’t even know you were in the city,” she said, “It’s been so long since we’ve talked.”

Zevlor shifted, eyes darting away from her to every other corner of the room. The place was small, fit for a single man who didn’t want for much. Exactly him, melding in with the space as he paced around with his arms crossed. Keeping his distance as he always did even when they had fought together, even after the celebration…

“Certainly, I owe you an apology for that. There is still much agony in going into it but—I was in a bad way after the final battle. An injury of the mind, if you will. Times were hard, too hard to reach out to you with any confidence,” he explained.

“I expected no less, after all that happened. Only that, well I thought we’d become close. That maybe you’d find some peace through my support. But,” she trailed off as her hands shook, shock of what happened to her still dominant over her, “seems you supported me.”

Her feet hit the cold floor, trying to stand up while wobbling about. Just as her hips moved off the mattress, she stumbled downward. Zevlor strode over, hooking his arms around her, lifting her back onto the bed. In her panic, she clutched him without mercy. Holding him so close to her that he fell forward, knees landing on the bed as she lay under him. Hovering over her, he saw the quick rise and fall of her chest, struggling to properly exhale. Bringing him back to their moment alone at the Grove celebration, when he comforted her, held her as she wrestled with the fear she had to hide for her companion’s sakes. Here he was again, taking one, brave move to slide the strap of her slip back onto her shoulder.

“Zevlor…please don’t leave,” she said as she felt him move away, feeling his heart shred at the discomfort of being so close. No matter how much he craved it. Craved her.

He sighed, “You’re terrified, shocked from what happened. I don’t want to get in your way and make things worse.”

As he pulled away, she stabilized her tremored hand by grasping his wrist, “You haven’t made things worse. Remember when you sat with me at the party? When I confessed to you how afraid I was of everything? You helped me so much back then, how could now be any different?”

Zevlor faced away, staring into the firelight as Tav waited. He could not retreat from the visions of their last meeting. How she cried to him, and told him she felt safe in the comfort of his arms. Sitting in a grassy, humid corner away from the rest of the guests. Sheltered by fern leaves and flowers, he let her talk and talk about all that troubled her. Felt so touched by her vulnerability that he shared his own worries too. Two of them, absorbed in isolating fear and finding each other in the dark. Hands wandering around with each kind word, and then the arousing jolt of remembering her naked flesh against his. Tail wrapped around her ankle while they made love under the plant covered moonlight. So beautiful under him, sensations he never thought he’d experience again.

He thought of making her his again so many times after. But in between then and now, he kept failing. Falling into disorder and defeat. People dying for his mistakes. Who would want someone like that? A man so past his prime he verged on cowardice, next to the hero of Baldur’s Gate. How could that ever make sense?

“Both of us were vulnerable at that time. You’re recovering from an attack, and…well, I know you appreciate honesty. My body is so excited from the fight, and from seeing you again, that if I get close enough I might take you here and now. Even though I’d come to regret being so forceful,” he explained.

Hot shame filled every corner of his face just for saying it. Avoiding her gaze even as she took deep breaths, standing from the bed again. This time, with success. Still slow, but steady in each step closer to Zevlor by the fireplace.

“You were always so hesitant about what you wanted,” Tav said, close behind him. The glow of the fire warmed one side of her exposed arms, fingers tickling against the fabric of his cotton shirt. Brushing the tip of her nose against his spine, taking in the scent of brimstone and pine. Her strength regained with each graze of her palm against him, light and teasing.

“I venture to deserve the things I want first,” he said, head down towards the flame. Closing his eyes to the feeling of Tav’s hand sliding from the back of his arm to the top of his hand. Rested on the mantle as she gave a gentle squeeze.

“Isn’t that up to me to decide?” She asked, taking the strap he once adjusted in place and pulling it down again. “You saved my life today. And I missed you terribly, Zevlor.”

Hand in hand, she turned him to face her. Tall and soldierly in front of her, head craning up to face him in all his glory. Fire crackled before them, leading her hand guiding his to her waist. His nails craved to dig into her skin, pull her close and never let go. She tiptoed into his embrace, other arm around her back, forming a gentle, passionate hug. Feeling her skin against his again, he was happy to die that moment.

“Are you sure this is what you want tonight? It was not my intention when I took you in to do this,” he said, wondering if she heard a word he said. She pushed their faces closer, lips hovering around each other. Temptation already too difficult bear as his mouth opened to bite into her supple flesh, but stopped short. “I won’t be able to control myself if you allow me this.”

Tav’s cool breath danced along his tongue, a full body desire to sob over how much she wanted him. To do what they did last time and pretend the world didn’t exist.

“You make me feel safe, Zevlor. I’ve been on my guard ever since we parted. Do you know how wonderful it feels to just…relax? Please, I want you near me. Inside me all night. Just like at the Grove. Hold me, Zevlor,” Tav said, her voice a crescendo of emotion from whisper to yelp.

Words weren’t enough, he had to be shown. Tav ruminated that very idea ever since they last parted. How a commander of a group like the Hellriders could end up so unsure of himself. Maybe he wasn’t always like that, but he was now. And she wasn’t inclined to change a thing. She laced her fingers under the straps of her slip, letting the fabric slowly waterfall off her body. In the wake of her naked form before him, she swore she could hear his beating heart. Rapid and fiery like the burning glimmer of the room.

“Can you promise me one thing?” He asked, hands pressed against her cheeks, lifting her eyes up to him. Round and ablaze with desire, warm and cool at the same time.

“Anything,” she whispered.

“Do not leave in the morning,” he said.

“I’ll never leave if that’s what you require.”

It was a kiss like never before. A whirlwind heart attack imploding between the two of them. Zevlor’s soul rose out of his body, taken over by the beckoning ache of her open mouth, welcoming his forked tongue. Tav melted into him, relishing in the hot pleasure of pressing her bare body against his clothed one. She clawed at his belt, longing for the image of his warrior frame above her. Scarred and toned by years of combat. Tail swivelling back and forth, a supplicant tying around her supple thigh.

Their voices hummed into each other, a hymn of blossoming want. Walking in tandem to the bed as Zevlor climbed over her, shuddering at the pleasure of pushing between her legs. He sat up on his knees, stretching his flexed back muscles as he pulled off his cotton shirt. A tingling sensation spread between Tav’s legs, cool air biting at her wet, sensitive core. She couldn’t resist the urge to run her hands across his torso, savouring every scar and mark, repeating her movements when he’d moan. His belt jingled below, unclasped as the imprint of a large erection outlined his pants. He was an impressive man…everywhere.

“Pull them down slowly, I want to see,” Tav ordered, voice dark and wistful with lust.

“At your command, my beautiful goddess,” he said, a low growl vibrating from the back of his throat. Taking slow, painful time in pulling down his trousers. Tav bit her lip, the excitement almost too much. A little tuft of pubic hair opened the door to a long, thick shaft, bouncing against Zevlor’s stomach when it finally broke free. Her mouth watered, licking up the collection of desperate saliva at the top corner of her lip.

Her heart fluttered, body hot and assured unlike before. That was the spell Zevlor had her under since they’d met. Empowering her just from being close, reminding her of the strength she still had. Not a thing of the past, but something to be embraced. And now, she had a chance to stay with him for more than a night. Protect each other, and revel in their primal need to be attached.

Discarding his pants with the rest of his clothes, Zevlor lowered, kissing between her bare breasts and down to her stomach. Heartfelt, exciting tickles made her giggle with a flirtatious ring. Shivering at the scratches his nails left in their stead. Relaxing every nerve within as she lay in his embrace, letting him take the lead. She hoped he’d always give her a chance to let go this way, think about nothing other than the pleasure he’d cover her in.

Between peppered kisses and flicks of his tongue along her stomach, he whispered, “You’re mine, I’ve wanted you to be since the moment I saw you. I’ll protect you, keep you safe. Come here.”

With untold force, Zevlor swung Tav’s legs onto his shoulders, capturing her cunt in his mouth. Jolts of ecstasy wet and savoured with each slide of his tongue across her clit. Sucking, licking, moaning into her without any attempt to catch his breath. Driven each time he tasted more of her essence. Unbridled to the point where she had to hold his horns to keep balance. The temperature of his hellfire skin stimulated her even more, muscles tightening with every weakened, whimpering moan that escaped her. Assertive, but slow, gentle even as he became primal against her. Letting the rhythm take her exactly where she needed to be.

Tav’s moans fluttered like butterflies, one hand clutching his horn and the other falling over her eyes, focusing on the chase of that wonderful high. Vampiric biting down of her lip, containing her innate need to be even louder. There would be time for that. Tonight, she wanted to sink into him, fall into a calming, warm pool of passionate affection. Enjoy the sensation of his body becoming a vessel for her pleasure, moving his tongue in just the way she liked.

Between tiny gasps, Tav said, “Zevlor…you’re going to make me cum. Please don’t stop…please.”

He didn’t reply, too focused on slurping up every trickle of sex that dripped out of her. He simply moaned, muffled by the soft grind of her pussy against his face. Building up to a climax that bloomed throughout her body, arching her back as she rode out an orgasm she had no idea she craved so deeply until it happened. He’d refuse to let her stop a second early, continuing to circle his tongue around her clit until she shook with sensitivity.

She melted into the bed, a thin veneer of sweat combining with the dripping warmth between her legs as Zevlor took his mouth off. Positively beautiful over her, muscular back bent in a perfect curve when he began to suckle and kiss around her neck and collarbone. Travelling downward in a desperate need to cover every inch. Landing with satisfaction on her nipples, laughing for the first time in years, lost in the joy of her.

Zevlor stopped for a moment, lifting his head to face her below him. Tranquil and drunk with sinful pleasure, cheeks filled with rosy blush and eyes glazed over. Arms splayed out like the wings of a celestial Aasimar. He loathed the past, for so many reasons, but mostly because she wasn’t there with him. In her infinite beauty, a plush and wanton solace before him. How did he ever stomach being away from her since they’d met?

“I’m sorry for leaving you after that night. Forgive me?” He asked.

Tav laughed, spellbound to the point of forgetting she was ever upset. As if he’d never left. She said, “You may need to convince me a little more, hellrider.”

Something switched off within him, a zealous need to have her succumb to him. Forgive him for his misgivings. Praying to a new goddess and asking for redemption. Offering himself to her by inching his cock deep inside her, feeling the pull of her soft walls lock him in. Driven to eternal admiration from the sound of her shocked, euphoric moan, submitting to the stretch of him. An addictive sting, exposed to every synapse erupting within her sensitive, yearning cunt. She bit her bottom lip with a smile, shivering at the comforting wrap of his tail around her waist to keep her in place. No escaping the loving, dominant thrust of his hips deep into her.

“Forgive me,” he said, “Forgive me. Forgive me!” A passionate, hard thrust into her pussy each time he said it.

The might of him rendered her eyes at the back of her head, nearly unable to reply as he begged for her forgiveness. Her slick smacking against his pubic bone, gushing onto his cock in a lustful mess of an orgasm begging to come back. Tav snaked her arms across Zevlor’s shoulders for dear life, brought to the edge with his heavy grunts in her ear. She tightened around him, rocking back and forth on the bed, closer and closer to release.

He felt the contracting of her around him, unfulfilled by her silence on forgiveness. Just as she was about to finish, he pulled out of her, smacking the tip of his cock against her clit repeatedly. Listening to her whine and whimper, threatening tears. Then, before she knew it, he thrusted back in, hard and unmerciful. Pulling out again, repeating that pattern.

“Have I earned your forgiveness? Or shall I deny you until you use your words all night? Tell me, am I absolved, goddess?” He growled, voice husky and feral, the militant part of him revealing just enough of itself to command her to his whim.

By the fourth thrust and pull, she wailed, “Yes, gods above, I forgive you! There’s nothing to forgive, just make love to me!”

He pushed inside her fully, smashing his lips against hers at the same time. Holding her hips in line to use his infernal ridges as friction against her swollen clit. Locking his hand into hers, supported above her head while he thrusted and thrusted with reckless abandon. Both of them grunting in tandem, overcome with delayed pleasure. Tav found her footing quickly, edged so deliciously that her orgasm ripped through her with little effort, squeezing onto his cock. Her nails dug into his knuckles, mouth hanging open in awe over the intensity of her second climax.

Pulling from the kiss, he struggled against his own release. Mourning for the eventual time when he’d have to leave her cunt. Comfortable, warm and wet, a shelter from all harm. He couldn’t stand it yet, and used his tail around her waist to flip her onto her side, like fresh sand in the palm of his hand.

“Let me lie next to you,” he said, moving his body in a spoon position, chest pressed against her back, “I want to cum with you in my arms.”

Tav mustered a whisper thin ‘please’ under her breath, running her hands through his hair as he snuggled in behind her. The curve of her spine angled just right for him to sheathe himself inside her once more. Pumping slowly this time, arms and tail curled across her body like ivy against an ancient wall. Kissing the side of her neck, an endless waterfall of tenderness mixed with the possessive thrust of his cock. She was completely enveloped, safe and sound in his embrace, floating in the paradise he gave her.

“You’re with me, now. Right here, safe. Does that feel good? Am I pleasing you, goddess? Might I cum inside you?” He whispered in her ear, low and gruff. Intense bravado oozing from every part.

She was awash with sensual energy, captivated by him just like the first time. Although that was much quieter, fearing someone might hear them. Now, she felt as if they were sharing a home. In the privacy of their own dwelling, even if that was a fantasy.

“Oh, yes, you are perfect. I want your everything, Zevlor. Please, give me everything,” she replied, taking care to run her tongue up and down his bottom lip before she pushed them into a wet, feverish kiss. Flicking her tongue against his teeth, relishing in the sharp edge.

Their mouths were open to each other when he felt the stirrings of his climax. Languishing movements lost rhythm as he climbed ever forward into that much desired sensation. Possessed by the supple flesh of her lips and everything else. Hips, breasts, stomach, ass, everything. Falling into her deep, insane at the ache of his cock inside her. He breathed out a hard, rapturous moan before he let himself spill, soaking her cunt with the cum that twitched out of him. Dribbling out of the side as she lay before him with a wide, calm smile. Their muscles relaxed together, fusing into the bed.

Tav shivered, the slide of his cock pulling out sending a shock in her spine. Imbued with comfort immediately as Zevlor pulled a thin sheet over her. Tucking her into the blankets and the warm hold of him. Snuggling tight into her, yearning to find a way to fuse his body with hers. Kissing the top of her head, lingering to take in her scent.

“You did not smell of rosemary when we last saw each other,” he said, “That’s always been a favourite of mine. Rosemary.”

Tav grinned, turning to face him. A much needed distraction to keep her heavy eyelids from shutting for the night. To see him once more, maybe twice. Absorb all she missed in the year past. His handsome, aged face glowing under firelight. Sandy hair, messy and dotted with sweat. Strong hands stuck tight to her hips. All she imagined came to life.

Zevlor held her hand, kissing each knuckle, down to the bottom of her palm. A touch so ethereal, he could have been giving healing magic. Rescuing her both outside and in, cleansing her soul of all evil and wrongdoing endured before.

“We’ll replenish your lost supplies tomorrow,” he said, her hand close to his face, “If you’ll allow me to accompany you?”

She smiled, containing its ever widening stretch. “Well, we do have a great deal to catch up on.”

[pursuitseternal]

“To Slice the Tension:” Astarion x Shadowheart knife play smut🌙⚔️

Act 1 Astarion x Shadowheart | E | 2.7K

Summary: irritation comes to threats at dagger point. Tension grows with sharp words and blades, and finally resolves in the night with hot tempers and even hotter smut

CW: knife play, hate smut, keep quiet, semi-public, dry humping, quickie, poor Gale

Ao3 Link | Masterlist

“You! Cleric!” Astarion snarled, blood smattering his chilled face and clotting in his perfect silver curls. “You have one job! Cast your powerful light spell… thing… and don’t miss!”

Shadowheart lifted her head, glowering where she knelt over Gale, the poor wizard having taken a beating from the ghouls and Death Shepherds that ambushed the lot in the Mountain Path. “Shut it,” she snapped back, her glowing blue hands landing on the wizard’s soft belly with more force than necessary. He sputtered even as she healed his wounds.

“You almost got me killed!” Astarion growled, hovering over her, fingers twitching and fangs snapping with rage. “Again!”

“Not my fault you can’t take the heat of a little radiant damage, undead cretton,” she smirked. “Now do you mind? We have companions that can’t heal just by biting the nearest vermin.”

Astarion growled, feral and deep in his chest. “I should bite you, Cleric…. See if you taste as bitter as your demeanor.” He hissed his words between clenching teeth. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little pain-craving Sharran…” he swiftly moved, crouching just beside her. “You tell me to bite vermin, and here you are…” he dragged his fangs over her neck, a threat born of hunger and rage.

But before he could sink a fang, something sharp pushed across the base of his own throat. Holding his breath, Astarion recoiled slowly, Shadowheart’s blade remaining pressed against his own scarred jugular.

Closing his fangs on nothing, Astarion’s lips peeled back in a snarl. “Careful… I don’t just bite,” he purred, colder in tone as his hand moved swiftly, jabbing the soft of her belly through the one opening of her armor.

“Hmmm,” she hummed happily, gripping his blade-holding wrist and pulling him closer. “Seems we’ve come to an impass, Vampire. Unless you want to admit you put yourself in the thick of the carnage just so I’d have to heal you first.” That black braid shook as she wriggled her head to mock him. Like a child. Like a brat. “Does somebody need attention?”

The wizard on the ground beneath them cleared his throat. “Would you mind terribly if you didn’t bicker … or flirt… or whatever this is… over my injured person? Thank you so much.”

Astarion huffed and rolled his eyes. “Oh Gale, you always ruin anything that’s actually fun… I can’t believe anyone as much of a wet blanket as you ever bedded a goddess,” he taunted, voice edged with playful venom.

“Perhaps you could learn from my divine experience and sleep off your tempers, both of you,” Gale smiled, annoyed and yet polite, “your impulses will be tamer come dawn.”

Shadowheart snorted through her nose, rolling her shoulders back as she resheathed her blade. “Fine by me, but I’ll be sleeping with this under my pillow…” her bright green eyes narrowed at Astarion’s smug, dastardly smirk, “and I’ll keep a stake in my fist, just for extra measure.”

“Sounds like you’re so very sure I’ll come for you in your bed, Cleric…” his silver brow arched. “I do like a midnight snack, but I prefer my treats a little sweeter than you.”

“I prefer my lovers a little more alive than you,” Shadowheart fired back before turning on her heel fast enough to whip that black braid around her shoulders.

And it only made Astarion’s smirk twist more deviously.

The rest of the evening passed in tranquility until the pop and hiss of the campfire was the final spark of movement and vitality.

But given the way his body pulsed from blood in his belly after his hunt today, Astarion noticed the soft hush of sandals in the dirt as he laid, meditating in his trance. The moment that blade pressed against his throat once more, he spread his lips in a fang-baring grin. “Come to kill me again, darling?” he whispered, eyes still shut even as Shadowheart straddled his waist.

One crimson eye opened just a sliver to see the Sharran Cleric smirking down, dagger’s edge caressing his throat gently.

“You’re reusing the same stunt you pulled on the Gith?” Astarion tutted his tongue, closing his eyes and settling back into his bedroll, wriggling his shoulders against his pillow just for show. “Run out of new ways to threaten the campmates that arouse you?”

“You annoy me,” she hissed down at him. “Different a-word, bloodsucker.”

“Oh, but I think you’re too a-a-addled to realize just how a-a-aroused you are,” he flashed those red eyes open at last, the intensity nearly disarming the Cleric on his body. That shit-eating grin rubbed her wrong, pissed her off. And it made her shift on his hips.

That thick upper lip pulled taut as she moved, baring even more of his teeth. And only then, did she realize where she sat…. That unmistakable outline of a hardened cock jutted against her thighs. “Oh, Astarion… I think I’m not the only one who can be accused of a-a-arousal?” Those green eyes glinted, bright with mischief.

Lighting quick, he pulled his hand from under his head, another small dagger pushed against her pulsepoint, the one he knew would taste extra delicious if only because he was having to work for it. And, gods, did he love a challenge, especially by his own terms. “Hmmm, this seems familiar,” he crooned up at her, letting his knife blade skate its sharp edge up and down her neck. “Fortunately for you, I’m quite skilled at how to let blood from these delicious veins just enough to leave you weak and begging for more…”

Shadowheart eased the blade off the base of his neck, using one hand to brace herself on his chest as she brazenly rolled her hips. The growl that reverberated in his ribs beneath her splayed hand confirmed her suspicions. “Familiar, yet not identical. Earlier, you didn’t have a prominent erection, I don’t think…”

The slip of her hand provided just the right opportunity, and Astarion seized it. Well-fed as he was, it was less than an eye’s blink before he caught her wrist and wrenched it behind her back, staying her blade. Disarming her. Pinning her on top of his waist. “You were saying, Cleric?”

She tried to put up a good fight, wrenching her wrist, even as his fingers locked it firmly behind her middle. One exasperated grunt, followed by a “Fuck you, Astarion,” only made that feral and wicked smirk deepen as he smiled up at her. Her pulse was accelerating, her sweat gathered on her brow, and, with every desperate movement she attempted to free herself, another scent permeated the night air.

“Hmmmm,” he purred up at her, all innocent tone long gone as he rolled his hips into that gathering heat between her thighs, “you let your guard down, all because now I’m… dual-wielding?” He gave that insufferable, inane giggle, even more annoying as he kept it quiet. She bit her quivering lower lip as he thrust upwards again. “Ah yes, that’s right, keep it hushed and quiet. I wonder if you’d be more embarrassed to be caught with your legs spread for me or to be caught disarmed by a man you tried to threaten in his sleep… tsk.”

“Dual-wielding?” she scoffed, leaning forward so she could hiss her spite closer to his smirking, arrogant face. “You’re going to compare your cock to a weapon, conceited arsehole that you are?”

“Afraid? It could destroy you, if you’re not careful,” he sniggered. And this time, the way she rubbed her clothed sex over his length caught him just in the right place… right in that spot on his cock head. He swallowed the curse, still audible enough to make Shadowheart grin, “Hells below.”

“What's the matter?” She taunted, that sheen of sweat gathering on his brow encouraging her to move faster. The hand on his chest pushed harder, firm enough to feel the slow dirge-like thump of his undead heart race with arousal. “Don’t tell me your blade is dull…” she taunted, a childish pout on her impertinent lips, “or are you known to work too quickly with your blade to leave your victims unsatisfied.”

A breathless laugh from his slack jaw, and Astarion twisted her wrist captured behind her until it let go of her blade altogether. “You have no idea what I can do, do you little Cleric?” He growled, pulling her lower by the small of her back until their faces were inches apart, his own dagger blade still kissing her neck.

“I have little interest in learning,” she snapped in reply.

That only made him grin and pull her closer, “But you have… some… interest…”

She gasped, feeling those plush lips brush their cool fullness against her mouth, the slightest jerk of her head causing his blade to bite flesh. Just a little, just enough to run down the line of her jaw to her lips… to share a few drops from her mouth to his….

“Gods,” he groaned the second her blood was on his lips and over his tongue.

That one nick in her skin sliced the tension, and it left them both aching and starving. “I need more…” he practically whined, blade skating a little deeper to let just a touch more blood flow. Blood he eagerly lapped by kissing her roughly. He devoured her, exploring those parts of her warm wet mouth that tasted of copper and whatever it was that was her… her essence.

A flick of his wrist, and he tossed his own blade away, that hand now pressing into the back of her head. Turning, twisting, he needed to drink, to lick and suck up every bit of her blood that dared to well from the wound. Rapid, open-mouthed kisses on her jawline, he cleaned her. “More,” he rasped nearly silently against her skin, his tongue laving the path from her jaw to those panting lips of hers.

Fingers in her hair, he yanked her, rolling her over and into the dirt beside his bedroll. Her gasp of surprise made him smile, his mouth locked to hers, their tongues tangling, dueling with their own thrusts and parries. And she was his to pin and cage beneath him.

Shadowheart’s pulse raged, in her ears, her chest, even her cunt as he kept grinding against her sex with more and more need. Rutting, that’s what this was, his strong frame, a crush of pure muscle, pinning her to the dirt. Every snap of his hips grew increasingly desperate. Hungry. Harder. His hand gripped into her trousers, yanking them roughly lower over the curve of her hips. Her flushed skin prickled at the cool night air touched where she dripped and burned for more. And every little buck of her hips she made helped wriggled them to her knees and then ankles, letting the cool leather of his trousers press into her sex. Gods, he throbbed, still clothed and contained as he grinded against her.

Little growls tickled her ear with every frantic snap of his hips, that cool, wet tongue still sucking and cleaning the nick he drew in her flesh.

A single, cool digit slipped inside her cunt, and she moaned, loudly and wantonly, earning a heavy palm over her mouth to silence her. But its gag only allowed her to open that impertinent mouth again to whine louder even as his finger found that sweet spot of nerves in her channel and crooked his crooked touch right over them.

Walls clenched, wet arousal soaked his hand, and his palm vibrated with the muffled, half-swallowed whines he coaxed from her throat as she came. He could taste the change in her blood as it still seeped from neck, that heady tingle of arousal in her system as it coursed in her veins.

“More, I need more,” she mouthed beneath his grip.

Astarion chuckled, slowly as she tried her best to shimmy his own pants down. It was just enough to let his cockhead free, a little more and his erection pushed, flushed and rock hard, against her belly.

Another needy whine ripped from her throat, filled with eager hunger, a different kind than the ache in his belly. He needed to be inside… and the whimpers from her lips and the scent on his fingers all screamed her agreement. Astarion had to bite his own tongue to keep quiet as he slotted himself into her. But it wasn’t enough to keep her own desperate keening quiet.

A sound slipped from under his hand as it shook, grasp slipping as he was seated fully inside her cunt. Shadowheart whimpered, high pitched, loud enough to make Gale in the next bedroll rustle his sheets and puff in his slumber. Nearly waking. One heart raced as they both froze… both sets of lungs holding their breaths as they stilled and waited.

“Mmhmmphmm magic touch,” Gale muttered, sticky-mouthed in his sleep…. Then he snored in that rhythmic way of his.

Astarion wasted no time, determined not to let the wizard spoil his fun a second time. He gripped her waist, thrusting into her, sheathing to the hilt as those green eyes widened and rolled back in silent ecstacy. “Good girl,” Astarion dared to whisper, right into the creases of her short-pointed ear. Then, he swallowed the groan that nearly escaped as he started to fuck her in earnest. Elbows in the dirt, mouths pressed together, tongues fighting for taste and dominance… they battled to be the first to finish, to quench the teasing need that had simmered to boiling. “You like this, don’t you… speared on my cock?” he rasped, nearly breathless from the rapid pace he set as he fucked. “Feels good to lose every now and then, doesn’t it?”

Her blunted teeth sank into his lip, drawing a genuine hiss of cool breath from him, making his hips stutter in their timing. “You, vampire,” she growled against his devouring lips. “Bite me.”

His deep-chested laugh rumbled into her own frame. “Now with you, vicious minx, I need to know… ‘bite me’ as in piss off, or…” Trailing off, he let his silent, smirking lips press against her racing pulsepoint. “You just want to feel the attack on two fronts, don’t you? Fangs in your neck… split on my cock…”

She pulled his mouth up to hers and nipped him again, drawing a taste of his blood from the slit she made in that fleshy corner of his mouth.

He snarled into her near-silent laugh, a hand wrapped around her blue-black braid, and he pulled her neck back into reach, his cock hard and throbbing the moment his teeth bit flesh and blood gushed down his gullet. Tasting her climax first, he groaned against her skin as he sucked more and more from her, pushing her through that creating bliss. Fluttering walls, a belly filled with fresh blood, and Astarion’s fucking hitched and slowed and deepened as he flooded her. A few final thrusts, and all that tension released, leaving them bloodied, breathless. He rested his head in the curve of her shoulder, feeling the remnants of her warm blood pooling yet down her neck.

The night quieted back down until it was only the soft snuffle of snores and steadying out of her heartbeat beneath him.

Then she opened that insolent mouth again. “You’re cleaning this up,” she taunted. “Blades too.” Astarion lifted his head; eyes half-mast and chin sloppy with her blood. “And before you begin, no,” Shadowheart smirked, “you can’t just lick them clean…”

The next morning, gathering round the campfire, Gale couldn’t help but notice the way the Cleric and the Vampire sat near one another. “You two look the very picture of camaraderie, if I must say!” He handed Shadowheart a buttered bun and a hunk of cheese. “I am so very gratified you took my advice to sleep off your tempers. Now look at you! Thick as thieves!” Gale gloated, hands on his hips in a pose of triumph.

Astarion just snorted, pulling out his dagger to sharpen as everyone ate. And much to Gale’s mortified chagrin, he replied, “Yes, very clever. But a good midnight fucking works too…”

[dark-and-kawaii]

Idk if I wanna be pinned under Lofn's brother or son more. Please stop making such beautiful characters

(please continue but also let me read about having them carnally. I'm begging)

Both?!?! Both is good ♡ ♡ ♡ This is incredible and I feel like I’m on cloud nine right now my god!!! I got you babes xoxo

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Pairings: Original Male Characters x F!Reader

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Content: NSFW - Good Fucking - Stretched Holes - Tenderness - One Fucks You Like A Princess - One Fucks You Like A Whore He Loves

⟡ ݁₊ . Zavrik: The one who strokes your hair as you get accustomed to his sheer size, “It's all right, darling. It's all right. That’s a good girl. You don't have to move yet. Let me take charge, just relax... and enjoy it. I won't hurt you, my love. Just lie still, that's all you have to do. I’ll take good care of you.”

And the second he kisses you, you're lost. Drowning in him. Losing yourself and becoming an extension of his pleasure and his passion. He kisses like a dying man. Kisses like you're his oxygen, like he's desperate for you. As if without you, he wouldn't exist.

Your heart, mind and body will never be safer than when you are with him.

⟡ ݁₊ . Aedric: The one who has his hand fisted in your hair, stretching your spasming little hole to the breaking point. He is the one who takes you, over and over until you’re sobbing his name.

And you will sob his name.

You are his, and he will remind you of that again and again and again, until his name is the only thing that you remember, the only thing that passes through your lips, the only thing that fills your mind, and the only thing you crave.

“That's it. Come for me. Say my name, and come for me, lovely. Let me hear how much you love this. How much you love my cock buried inside you. Don’t be shy, let me hear how sweet and dirty my girl is.” Don’t worry, he’ll hold close to him as your body trembles and your mind slips from your control, letting your body fall to his command.

Aedric loves you in his own way, and despite how rough he is you know there’s nothing to be afraid of when in his care. You are safe, and protected.

[ami-atmosphere]

See What I See 🪞

[Read on AO3] [Full Illustration, R18] Pairing: Gale x Amihan (Tav) / WindWeave

Summary: Amihan is worried about her apparent lack of expression. Gale proves otherwise in front of a magic mirror.

Warnings: Mirror Sex, Vaginal Sex, Smut, Post-Canon

Word Count: 1.2k

“Gale,” Amihan whimpered. “Is…is this truly necessary?”

The couple stood bare in front of a magnificently-sized mirror, not one of their already existing mirrors, but one that Gale conjured himself with his magic– a demonstration, he insisted. Amihan had previously spoken of her dismay regarding her own inexpressiveness– how she knows she can appear distant and unconcerned, how it makes her feel unattractive compared to the blooming ladies of Waterdeep. Naturally, Gale disagreed with this notion and decided he must go about and prove that she already was beautiful and expressive.

“Of course, my breeze,” Gale replied. “Otherwise, I fear you would refuse to believe me, stubborn as you are.” He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“No, I want you to see what I see,” He whispered against her neck, voice dripping with desire.

A shiver ran through Amihan’s spine, and he smirked, feeling her tremble within his embrace. Gale knew she loved his voice, particularly when he’d take a more commanding tone. She loved giving him control, loved learning about what he likes, and that in turn was intoxicating for him. Amihan turned her face towards him, her lips parting and her eyes looking at him with that touch of innocence and pleading he loved so much.

“Show me,” she managed, voice wavering but still full of resolve.

“With pleasure.”

Immediately, his lips found hers in a heated kiss, his tongue gently coaxing her lips to open and allowing her very own to swirl with his.

“Mmph…” Amihan moaned in their kiss, her legs losing balance as he put more fervour in his movements. He was devouring her, and if not for their mortal lungs, he was convinced he would never part his lips with hers. Alas, Gale did eventually break away from the kiss, allowing the two of them to breathe, a thin string of saliva connecting them for a few more seconds. He marvelled at her reddened lips, her lustful gaze. Oh, how he loved seeing her like this.

“Simply exquisite,” he grinned. “Now, my breeze– If you would, please.”

His hand beckoned her eyes to face the mirror, and Amihan watched herself with heavy eyes. She never saw herself this way, never seen herself looking so positively sinful.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against her ear.

“I don’t–” she tried to protest but was quickly interrupted by Gale’s wandering hands. One settled on her breast, while the other slowly moved lower towards her core.

“So sensitive…” he continued.

“Gale…” Amihan mewled, her head resting on his shoulder as both of his hands began to move simultaneously. He had always been a master of concentration and of the somatic component, and he capitalised on this skill just as much as his practised tongue on his darling wife. His hand below slid between her folds, feeling her slickness, coating his fingers with her.

“…And so wet.”

Oh, what he wouldn't give to have his tongue lap her essence at that very moment, but he relented. There are plenty of days ahead of them to do just that. Still, he found his hips moving softly against her ass, his hot, aching cock dripping generously on her ivory skin.

“Need…you…please–” Amihan begged, her voice ragged full of need. “I want…to see myself…as you fuck me…”

Seeing, hearing, feeling a person like Amihan, who's normally so full of self-control, calm, and collectedness, in this state, so deeply affected by him, begging for him— needing him. Him, only him. It was better than any pleasure the Weave could provide, and it’s a wonder he didn't burst right there and then. Of course, this was not their first time, but by the gods is it intoxicating, like anew, every single time. So how could Gale possibly deny his precious wife’s adorable pleading? When with just the sound of her voice, with the way she looked at him— hells , if she wanted him spinning around her during the act, he was certain to follow.

He lined himself to her centre, the length of him rubbing against her soft folds for some moment, coating his length with her fluids, breath hitching at the feeling. Amihan whimpered, he was so close but refused to enter still. Her hand wrapped around his arm, nails digging on his skin. His teasing was torture for both of them he knew, and yet that made their joining all the more rewarding.

With a knowing smirk, he finally let his cock enter her tight, warm entrance, and immediately Gale was reduced to a mumbling, grunting mess. He took a deep shaky breath to help himself recover composure and continue his hands’ previous ministrations, now joined with his thrusts, tender in pace but firm, and deep.

His hands were relentless in their attention to her body. One rolled a nipple between his fingers, while the other rubbed at her swollen bud, in time with his thrusts. Amihan bit back her moans, her eyes instinctively closing in her own attempt of focusing and recomposing herself.

“My love…my breeze,” Gale murmured between thrusts, “Open your eyes…you promised…please.”

“Gods, Gale–” She let out a needy whine, finding it hard to focus. Her eyes opened once more, and her gaze flitted to their reflections. Of Gale desperately rutting against her, and of her own wanton expression.

“See what I see,” he rasped with a wide smirk. “Look how alluring you are…how lewd…how expressive,” followed by indistinctive strings of praises against her neck.

Gale felt her clench around him at his words, making him drown in that sweet sensation of her tightness. His hips slammed further against her in response. Amihan held on to the mirror, watching her own expression with hazy, unfocused eyes.

“So perfect,” Gale began again, his grip on her becoming tighter, getting more possessive. “Mine…only mine. Only I get to see you like this. Only I…”

“Gale , fuck– ” Amihan cried out curses from her delicate lips. Gale could tell she was close, as was he. His thrusts became more frenzied and erratic, determined to make her reach her peak with him.

“Let go, my breeze. Let me feel you, let me see you,” he cooed, the hand on her breast moving up to her chin to keep her gaze anchored to the mirror.

“Can’t…anymore…coming…Gale– I’m–”

Her back arched against him, mouth opened wide, followed by a gasp and a shiver. Gale felt her contract around him and he followed soon after, spilling inside of her with more strings of incomprehensible praises, not quite as poetic as he normally preferred to be. He kept himself within her for a few more moments, burying his nose in her hair, arms still tight around her, savouring every last drop of their release.

“I love you,” Amihan whispered, her head turning to plant a soft kiss on his temple.

“And I you. I trust I have convinced you on the matter?”

“I don’t know…” she smiled playfully. “Perhaps we need to repeat the activity three more times in order for me to make a sound judgement.”

Gale’s eyes widened in surprise at his wife’s remark, then laughed.

“Have I rubbed off on you that much, dear?”

“Quite.”

[astarionancuntnin]

Dancing on the Edge of a Knife

summary: ever since his ascension, Malva was convinced that Astarion was the only person who could understand her every twisted desire. well, almost. there are some things she still keeps to herself, he simply wouldn't understand this part of her, the one who dances on the very edge of her knife.

or Ascended Astarion learns how real punishments work

rating: E

word count: 2.8k

pairing: ascended astarion x consort malva (oc, evil!sorcerer!tav)

cw: 18+. KNIFE PLAY (big warning cause the whole fic will turn around this specific one), smut, post-game setting a few years later, mention of violence/murder, mentions of and actual self-harm, slight voyeurism, shared sensations, blood play, bdsm relationship (Master/Pet, punishment), teasing, overstimulation, orgasm denial. full list on ao3

a/n: i just dont pick where the inspo comes from but malva lives rent free in my head

a/n2: decided to make the stories about malva and astarion into a series, they can be read independently but if you wanna read the first one featuring lotsa spanking, here it is (they also get to cum in that one)

read on ao3

or keep reading down below~

It was just another day of bloody business for Malva and her Master. 

Another party used as distraction; another life to take; another bloodshed.

Another reason to dive her pretty blade into the chest of yet another unfortunate soul.

She remembers back when Orin had mentioned her potential to join the ranks of the bhaalists, and of course, she would’ve; Malva’s talent to murder people came as naturally to her as her powers had, but the mere idea of being attached to any godly entity made Malva retch.

And Bhaal out of all of them? The same one who sent his minions to do his dirty work? Really, what was the point in becoming a God if you didn’t use that power for yourself?

No, Malva acted sinfully within her own code based on her own goals; no Gods or voices guiding her blade, only her inner bloodthirst and the knowledge that she was mightier than any other mortal crossing her path. Compared to other species, she was already considered immortal, but now, as a vampire? A spawn of the Vampire Ascendant, out of all of them? She might be even greater than the Gods themselves.

Even then, killing was just a job, something that needed to be done nevertheless, and knowing how much she had to do, she just decided to take pleasure in it. After all, the line between pleasure and pain had been blurry ever since Malva could remember, even at a young age.

Ever since her mentor had shown her how to master her powers.

“You will need to use your powers for the greater good,” he had said. “They come with responsibilities. Wield them to perfection so they serve you on every occasion. Those powers are a part of you.”

Obviously, she remembers thinking, they're what makes me better than the others.

“But you need to know that, as much good they can do, they can also harm, and to fully understand this, you'll need to feel them yourself.” 

She recalls how he had grabbed her arm and inflicted a benign version of a lighting spell on her, just to show her how it would feel to receive it — the impact of it, even on a smaller scale.

“Now, every time you inflict this pain on someone, you'll carry the weight of it as if you felt it yourself.”

He couldn't have been as right and wrong at the same time.

Yes — the spark lighting up her skin had burned, and she had flinched and pulled her arm back the second the shock hit her. 

But what a delectable sensation it had been.

How the burn had tingled and resonated through her entire body, lingering long after, introducing her to a new world of possibilities, one she hadn't even considered.

She had spent the rest of her life chasing that feeling.

Using her powers on herself as she was still learning them, gradually increasing the intensity as she became numb to the minor pain to still feel the hurt but relishing the burn of the wound, that sweet tingle rippling on her skin.

Venturing into taverns as she grew older, looking for easy strangers with whom to spend the night to easily discard them once morning came, until one night led to her first kill, and instead of fear she had felt a thrill. The same one as her self-inflicted burns.

Picking up dangerous bounties only to use her powers on others without holding back, see the light leave their eyes as she felt the blood from her own wounds drip from her body, smearing her pale skin.

A knife held at her throat, her life hanging by a thread — the burn of the blade penetrating her skin even better than any cock could ever feel.

The rush of heightened pleasure that clouded her mind for those brief moments was better than any sketchy potion on the market, and yet, the conclusion always turned out the same.

This rush was short-lived. 

Every kill was done with the next one already in mind.

Pain was her pleasure, and no one had understood that about her in the past. She even led herself to believe that Astarion didn't understand how far her limits went. Believing he couldn't satisfy all of her needs — and he would go far; spank her hard, choke her, bite her — all things she adored, but there was still something… missing. 

Something she would just need to take care of by herself.

So that night, a night that felt as meaningless as the others — or that should’ve been — she let her mind wander after disposing of this nuisance of a man. With her spirit  clouded with lust from the blood now warming her veins, she eyed her dagger in her hand with a different intention.

Her dark, yet see-through long dress didn’t allow for under clothing — like most of her other dresses, she had noticed — and the skirt, which split in the middle only to be covered by a thin layer of fabric, made it easy for her to pull the slit of her skirt aside and slide the blade of her knife along her plump thigh.

The tip just ghosted over her skin at first, teasing herself with the weapon that had taken so many lives already. A shiver ran down her back at the promise of what was to come — finally, feeling somewhat alive once again — getting wet from the mere memories of the last time she had touched herself like so.

The blood of her previous victim still coating the blade as she pushed it deeper, breaking into her skin — just enough to draw blood and for her breathing to turn into whimpers.

Just enough to feel that same burn, that pain that turned into pleasure so quickly for her.

She had thought she had been subtle, that her time away wouldn't cause Astarion to come looking for her. Afterall, the kill had taken her mere seconds, she still had plenty of time to take care of herself and go back to her Master. She could always use the excuse that he had been a difficult target — either way, she’d come up with something.

Little did she know, he had felt it. 

Their connection was greater than with his regular spawns; he was able to feel any sensation she felt as well as accessing her mind at any time — not that she knew about the former — and the second that knife slid across her skin, Astarion had known.

The pain in the inside of her thigh, this familiar burn; one he recognized instantly.

Oh, and he ran to find her, expecting the worst, only to find her with her legs spread open, leaning against the wall of the hallway with a body at her feet, and the hilt of her knife sliding across her wet slit, with sinful moans escaping her luscious lips.

He couldn’t say he was surprised at the sight, this was Malva after all, the woman who took a malicious pleasure in the murders she committed — ones she never questioned. The same woman who smiled as she took each and every of his punishments.

And yet, that was the last thing he expected to see when he ran for her.

So here he stood, watching as she pleasured herself with the soiled weapon she had visibly used on the corpse lying nearby, her other hand holding back the fabric of her dress as leaned back against the wall, her chest heaving as her pleasure overtook her.

Worry aside, he was now fixated on her every move. Watching, learning, so he could use it on her later. This was just one more thing to add to his library of possibilities when it came to her.

What was unacceptable was how she took those liberties without involving him, how she so easily broke those chains, and dismissed his authority.

Not only that, but she had been cutting herself — cutting him. 

He only had himself to blame, after all he had never made her aware of this part of their connection, but now the consequences of his actions had caught up to him. The same cuts he remembered suffering, that made him bleed out to near unconsciousness years ago, and all because of their connection, he was reliving these moments all over again. 

No, no, this time was different — this time he was in control, he had a say in how this would go. If his consort wanted to play, he would play along.

He leaned back and away from her eyesight, a flicker of malice flashed in his ruby eyes as he opened his mind to reach out to hers.

“Enjoying yourself, pet?”

He smirked when he heard the clink of her dagger as it fell to the floor.

“Master?” She answered back through their connection. “I was just finishing up with this—”

“Oh no, dearest, you are far from done.” He cut her off. “Pick that dagger up, and cut through your other thigh, the same way you did the other.”

She briefly remained silent as she collected her thoughts, “How did you…”

“The dagger, pet.”

“Y– Yes, sir.”

He felt the ghost of the blade over his own thigh at the same time he heard her breathy moans echo in the hallway. 

He didn’t expect the vivid flashes of his past coming back to him, the burn of the scars in his back searing through his skin. He was all powerful now, this was long in the past, why was he still affected?

“Enough, pet.”

He needed to change his approach, no matter what, Malva was going to inflict this pain onto herself. He just needed to control it — make it feel good — for both of them.

He closed his eyes, banishing the remaining memories of his past to conjure the image of his consort instead.

“Take the hilt of your dagger and smear it with your blood.”

He imagined her in her long-sleeved black dress — the one he had picked for the night, with the embroidered red dragons partly covering her chest, matching his own ensemble — legs apart and cunt exposed with her dark blood slowly dripping from her thighs getting smeared over her skin as she ran the hilt of her weapon across it, coating it in her crimson.

“Now, guide it towards your slit, but don’t push it into you.” he paused, giving her time to follow his instructions, “And up to your clit. There, good girl. You’re gonna be rubbing yourself with it until I tell you to stop.”

He sensed a hint of doubt from her when she remained unmoving, “Do you not trust me, pet?”

“I… I simply didn't expect this from you.”

“Are you not glad I’m making the effort to keep your days exciting?”She bit her lip, remembering her dread of the previous dull days, “Yes, Sir.’

“Good, then close your eyes, and start rubbing that dagger over yourself.”

He heard her loud sigh before she finally let the bloody weapon touch her sensitive spot, allowing himself to feel her pleasure in his groin as she made it twirl and slide over it.

He let his head fall back against the wall as the sensation took place between his legs, only taking in the feeling temporarily before he shot his eyes open, ready to take the matter in his hands.

With her eyes still closed, Malva didn’t see Astarion approach her. She didn't feel the weight of his gaze as he stared her down like prey. But she did hear the pounding of his heartbeat against his chest as he grew closer, and her throat bobbed in anticipation between two raspy breaths, the movement between her legs relentlessly accelerating, her juices mixing with her blood as she neared her collapse.

“Tell me,” he purred down their connection. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Really good.”

“Don’t shy away from details now, I want to know exactly how you feel, dear.”

“The cuts… they burn deliciously, Sir. I’ve— missed this feeling, ah—” She became increasingly sensitive as she rubbed her swollen bud ceaselessly. “How… my wounds feel as the blood rises to the surface. When the burn spreads through my thighs and between my legs, fuck—”

Her breath accelerated and her mind blanked out as she focused on the growing ache between her legs.

“I’m— I’m close,” she panted.

Astarion might have to learn more about his dark consort after tonight, but if there was one thing he knew without a doubt, it was the clear signs of her collapse. With her head thrown back, her body messily leaning against the wall as her legs quivered from the excessive stimulation, and her pace getting sloppier as she was reaching her climax, he knew exactly how long until she reached the edge. Some time, right about…

Now.

“Stop,” he finally spoke up as he stood in front of her.

“What?!” She exclaimed, shooting her eyes open as she lifted her head back up, staring right into his eyes.

“Drop the knife, now.”

Reluctantly, Malva plunged her blade into the luxurious carpet, grunting as she did so. 

“Still feeling good, my dear?”

She shot him a frowning glare, chest heaving and lips parted as she panted.

“What do you think?!” She shouted. “I was so damned close– fuck!”

He snickered, stepping forward to meet her stare, “So you truly believe you deserve this? That you deserve more than what I've already allowed you, when you’ve been touching yourself behind my back?”

She lifted her head and without breaking eye contact, retorted with a growl, “You wouldn’t grasp how to please me, even if I showed you precisely how.”

He wouldn’t usually accept this behaviour from her, but this time around, he wanted to see how far he could take it.

“Is that so?” He smiled as he closed the gap between them, his stance hovering over her. “In all the years we've spent together, have I not proved you wrong already?” 

She backed into the wall as he pushed her against it, one hand caging her beneath him, while the other reached for his waist to pull out his signature dagger, bringing it up and pushing Malva's head upwards as he pressed the tip right under her chin.

“Do I need to prove my point again?” 

Her frown softened, “You seem to have underestimated me, my Lord.” 

Their lips were but a whisper apart, the threat of the blade restraining Malva in this position, leaving Astarion in complete control once again. All his consort could do in this position was talk back, something she was annoyingly well versed into.

“I'll have you know that it'll take me more than a few spankings to be truly satiated.”

He chuckled, “My beautiful, dark consort. I should've known you grew from the thorniest vines.”

His vision dropped from her eyes to her lips, trailing the tip of his dagger along her jaw and down her neck, stopping right at the valley between her breasts.

“Is this what you want?” He leaned his head above the crook of her neck, whispering roughly in her ear. “For me to slice you open and bleed you out, right here, in the middle of this hallway with our guests still waiting in the main room?” 

As he slid the blade down, partly slicing open the front of her dress, a faint line of blood appeared in its wake. The knife travelled down her chest, just past her navel, where it paused, leaving the dress only partially cut through.

He brought the blade back up with the same agonising pace, resting it right over her breast, barely pushing against her to pierce the skin, “Answer me, pet.”

Malva was already lost in the feeling of the blade hovering right above her heart, the word barely slipping between her lips as she held in her breath, one she kept forgetting wasn’t necessary anymore.

“Yes.”

He pressed deeper into her, just enough for the blade to penetrate her supple skin, pushing a deeper moan out of her, “And do you think you deserve it?”

“Y– Yes, Master.”

“Mmh…” He let his knife slide back down where her pleasure had accumulated, pressing its flat side against her glistening cunt, just enough for her to believe in the promise of what would come… 

Only to remove it completely right after, licking her blood and juices off from his weapon before pushing himself off the wall.

Malva blinked as her breathing came back to her, watching as her Master walked away from her, leaving her in an even messier state than he found her in.

“Maybe next time I’ll believe you.” He made sure to pick up the blade she had thrown down earlier as well, “You'll have to use your powers to carry out your tasks from now on, I’m sure you’ll manage though. After all, I can't trust you to carry around a blade if you risk to hurt yourself, can I? It would be unwise on my part, I’m sure you understand.”

Without knowing it, his consort had opened up a whole world of possibilities for him, and it all started with her first, real, punishment.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated, I love reading your feedback! <3 (tag list will be in the comments moving forward!)

[riseatlantisss]

Careful, he bites

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader around 900 words.

morning sex. in bed. with the most amazing vampire. that’s it that’s the plot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW : 18+, shameless smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, tiny bit of fang kink

I love him a completely normal amount

You open your eyes slowly, savouring the blissful, heavy fog of sleep that still weighs on your mind. The voice that greets you is one you’re sure you’ll never tire of.

“Good morning, my sweet”, Astarion whispers against your ear. The bed smells of night-blooming flowers and cold winter air, just like him. His body is a comforting spoon, the nice coolness of his powerful chest sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyelids are still heavy and with a smile, you settle back in and bury your head in your soft pillow, eager for just a few more hours of precious sleep before starting a new day in the underdark.

Astarion, of course, has other ideas. He exhales and you can feel the light puff of cold air against the back of your neck. Icy fingers skate down your bare arm, dragging the strap of your night gown with them. He dips his head and nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He toys with the hem of your night gown before slipping beneath it to caress the curve of your hip. You revel in his low groan of appreciation as he discovers you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Gods, the things you do to me,” he growls, voice muffled slightly as he breathes your scent. “Let me take care of you.”

Wordlessly, you nod and he wastes no time. He gives you a sloppy, hungry kiss that is all tongues, teeth and fangs, and then slowly lowers himself. His fangs leave burning trails across your skin, and you love every bit of it.

You can feel his erection grow next to your thigh and you raise a hand forward to touch him but he grabs your wrist and stops the motion. 

“No, darling,” he grins, “it is all about you today.”

“But –” your attempt to argue is cut short as Astarion disappears between your thighs, wraps his wet lips around your clit and starts sucking. You let out an unbelievably loud whimper of pleasure and he smirks against your body.

Pinning your thighs apart, he works his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other. You grind into his mouth shamelessly as his tongue continues working its magic. Without interruption, he slips first one finger, then two inside you, and pushes them up against your G-spot. You’re already starting to see stars as you feel his fangs settle in the soft mound of flesh above your clit. He applies just enough pressure for it to deliciously sting without ever hurting. Those tiny pinpricks combined with the sucking of your clit and the impossible rhythm of his fingers inside you made you cry out.

“Astarion – I’m– “ you try to articulate between two heavy breaths.  

“I’m right there with you, my love,” he mutters and presses his fangs slightly deeper into your skin, as to urge you to stop fighting the wave of pleasure trying to make its way through your shivering body.  

His tongue slips across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always sets you off, and suddenly you are coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his silver hair and moaning and moaning and moaning. He pushes his fangs deeper and deeper into your skin as he rides out your orgasm with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady. Your core spasms longer than a pulsing heart, each beat making you thrash helplessly on the bed as he pushes his fingers deep. ​​He waits until you come down from your high before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean. The rest of the world begins to come back into focus but you do not care for it. You only have eyes for him.  

​​"You are absolutely exquisite when you come," he chuckles in that ridiculously arrogant way he has.

He licks his lips as he rises, expression as lazy and smug as a contented cat. You haul him up and into your arms and kiss him hard. He wraps his strong arms around you protectively and takes a moment to listen to your breathing, still shallow from the love explosion. He finds infinite comfort in the repeated rise and fall of your chest. It proves to him that you are real, safe and here, right next to him. 

Before you, Astarion had never known true bliss. Sex – even when it’s mindblowing – doesn’t fix the part of you that’s broken. Good sex soothes, but doesn’t cure, and Astarion, who’s been using sex as a valium substitute since he’s been free from his former Master’s control, knows it better than anyone. But with you, it’s not just sex. It’s safety. It’s intimacy. It’s respect. And it’s all he’s ever wanted.

[celestialowlbear]

⋆ ☀︎ ⋆ Halsin, Gale, & Astarion NSFW Headcanons ⋆ ☀︎ ⋆

Pairings: Halsin x You, Gale x You, Astarion x You

Summary: Their favorite positions with you. 😌

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. GN reader/you/Tav. Sex, praise, kissing, romantic. Soft Astarion. Established relationship with reader/Tav.

A/N: I’m sick at home and had thots. I apologize for any mistakes, haha. Just some soft smut for these men. Thanks for reading!

Halsin 🌱

Halsin doesn’t mind any position as long as you are thoroughly pleasured. But…

Halsin does love it when you ride him when he’s flat on his back.

Whether it’s in a bed, a grassy field, your bedroll, the soft banks of a river…Halsin will have you like this anywhere.

To see you in control of your pleasure and taking what you need…he goes feral.

Halsin also loves feeling up your body while you do so, squeezing and caressing and worshiping with his giant hands as he watches you bounce on his cock…he could have you like this for hours.

Not one single inch of your body is left untouched.

Feeling the softness of your ass or breasts (if you have them) under his palms, tracing his hands over your hips and thighs, murmuring praises as he does so.

You can still lean down and kiss him passionately, swallowing one another’s grunts and moans and loving sentiments.

Halsin knows he still has a little power, matching his thrusts with yours, pushing up into you, and increasing your pleasure.

Your reaction is always immediate as he fucks up into you like it was his task given to him by the Oak Father himself.

Witnessing your head thrown back in ecstasy, your lips parted and eyes heavy with lust as you gaze down at him with intense love…sometimes that’ll end him right then and there.

Gale 🔮

Missionary King. Hear me out.

It’s the intimacy of it all, being so close to you, faces millimeters apart, relishing the soft gasps of his name in time with his thrusts.

He can kiss you, entwine his hands with yours above your head, whisper sweetness in your ear, and sense your entire body under his.

Gale loves when your legs wrap around his waist, wordlessly encouraging him to take you faster and deeper, or how your hands grasp and tangle in his hair or dig into his back.

He can take in every expression of pleasure, how stunning you look, how much love is in your eyes even amid intense coupling.

You capture every expression of his, too. The way his hair hangs around his face, his powerful thrusts precise just like his touches, and his breathless “I love yous” between desperate kisses.

Gale prefers taking you in the comforts of your shared bed in his tower in Waterdeep, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have you laid out on his desk, or perhaps in the study in front of the fireplace if the moment is right.

In exceptionally passionate moments, he’ll hook your legs over his shoulders to drive into you and make you see stars, usually bringing you both to your end quickly with the intensity of your devotion.

In this position he can wholly worship you like the god(dess) you are to him.

Astarion 🌙

Astarion enjoys being with you in the confines of your bedroom with no distractions.

Just you and him, only focusing on exploring one another’s bodies and becoming comfortable with your newfound intimacy.

Astarion loves beckoning you to his lap while he sits against the headboard of the bed.

He prefers you riding his cock like this, at least until you orgasm first, and maybe he’ll switch up positions.

He likes it mostly because it gives him full access to your neck and chest, but there’s another reason.

Astarion might not admit it out loud (maybe later into your relationship) but he loves just…being able to hold you in such an intimate moment as well.

Astarion will wrap his arms around you and lavish your neck, kissing and nipping and inhaling your scent, leaving love bites as he goes.

Tasting you and feeling you like this makes it all real to him, knowing your connection was real, and that your connection was more than purely physical.

It was real love, and it made his heart want to burst out of his chest.

He can nibble at your chest or just bury his face into your soft skin and get fully lost in everything that is you.

Of course that doesn’t mean his hands won’t wander, cradling the back of your head and giving your ass a hearty squeeze when the moment calls for it.

You never miss the quiet gasp that leaves his lips when you lightly tug at the curls of his hair and kiss him deeply, or the gentle smile that graces his lips when you are both finished and spent, watching you fall asleep in his arms.

-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-

*Banner made by me. Photos taken from BG3 wiki*

[frantic-fiction]

Lose Yourself 18+

Pic: @casualya (side note....hot 🥵)

Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x f!Tav

Summary: During a feeding Astarion gets worked up and a bit too excited. He's embarrassed, but it turns out Tav finds it incredibly hot.

Warmings: Smut MDNI, Premature ejaculation, dry humping, fingering, PnV Sex, overstimulation, comfort sex, blood

Word Count: 2.2k

Astarion's grip tightens against your jaw, tilting your head slightly more to give him better access to your neck. The initial chill of his bite has settled to a delicious icy throb. A moan rips from your kiss-swollen lips, relishing the feeling of your blood flowing into his greedy mouth. You scratch your nails against Astarion’s scalp, combing through his tousled curls. A smile streches you lips when a shiver runs down his spine, and the hand grabbing your thigh tightens.

The majority of Astarion’s body weight is blanketing you. His hips slotted between your parted legs, mindlessly grinding against the inside of your thigh, too consumed by your blood to be fully in control. You rub his back, shoulders, neck, any skin you can get you wandering hands on and whispering sweet nothings into his ear. This has him purring into your neck and rutting faster against your body, chasing more pleasure.

This night, you had made sure to stock up on extra health potions and lesser restoration scrolls so Astarion could have his fill without worry of any repercussions on your health come morning. 

And gods, you will be sure to make this a ritual from now on because seeing Astarion so lost in your body’s comfort, so relaxed and focused solely on his pleasure. It has your heart pounding and arousal pooling between your thighs. 

Feeling the telltale signs that it’s time for Astarion to stop, you grab tightly at his shoulder giving him a little shake. “Star,” you slur. 

Astarion sighs through his nose, taking one last sip before unlatching from your neck. He’s still lost in the haze of his feeding, eyes glossy and unfocused, trying desperately to meet your gaze. Tiny trickles of blood fall down his chin and onto your chest, where he messily laps the droplets with his tongue. Astarion’s hips are still pistoning against you, and little breathless gasps of pleasure escape his mouth. You swear you’ve never seen a more gorgeous sight. Then Astarion tenses, and with a choked sob of your name falls from his mouth, and he comes spilling onto your stomach.

The room stills.

Only the sounds of rapid breaths fill the room. Astarion’s eyes are wide open, and his mouth is agape, looking down at the mess on your stomach. You’re frozen, glued to the beads of sweat trailing down Astarion’s chest, moving down the planes of his stomach. 

“Shit,” he backs away. An embarrassed flush–only evident due to the recent blood consumption– floods his face moving all the way to the points of his ears.

“Fuck,”  you whimper needily, clenching against the rush of heat that simmers in your stomach.

Then Astarion lets you go, and you finally notice Astarion’s distress.

“I-that…shit,” Astarion stumbles over his words and hands you a cloth to clean yourself with. “I’m so–”

You pounce, and he catches you in his arms, looking startled. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence?” You growl, claiming his mouth in a chaste kiss, chasing the metallic taste off his lips. “That was so fucking hot.”

He clicks his tongue and lets go of you again. Backing away, Astarion starts picking up his scattered clothes. “Yes, I’m sure watching me cream myself like a boy being touched for the first time was just so attractive.” Astarion huffs and rolls his eyes. “Spare me,”

Feeling annoyed, you huff, knowing you need a different approach. Moving closer, you grab the clothes from Astarion’s hand, throw them to the side, and cup his jaw. You draw him into another kiss and trail a hand up the smooth skin of his chest, stopping to circle your thumb around his nipple. Astarion signs into your mouth and runs both his hands down your naked sides, pausing to squeeze your hips.

“My love, that was by far one of the most sexy things I’ve ever seen.” Voice low and seductive, your lips barely pulling away from him. “Seeing you lose control, drunk on my blood, on my body,” 

Astarion shudders when you scratch your nails lightly down his chest before taking his hand in yours. Smiling wickedly, you peck his lips and pull away, ensuring he can see eyes. 

“Hells, Star,” Pulling him, you guide his fingers to your dripping heat. “I’ve never been so turned on.”

This has the desired effect. Astarion’s nimble fingers instinctually begin exploring, and you bite back a moan. He pulls away quickly to examine his slick, covered digits. When Astarion meets your gaze, all embarrassment seems to vanish, and he’s pushing you back down onto the bed. He rests his forearms on either side of you, cradling your head. Astarion trails a thumb over the curve of your jaw. Your hands snake around his neck. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to having Astarion look at you like he is now. Like you hung the moon and crafted each star so he would never be alone at night. It overwhelms you with such love that all you can do is pull him down and capture his lips. The kiss has no urgency, just two lovers enjoying the soft embrace. It holds the warmth of a crackling campfire, its embers building to something that leaves you needing more. 

Astarion coaxes your mouth open, and when you grant him access, he leads your tongue in a practiced dance. Feeling the tease of his razor-sharp fang, you moan, cupping the back of his head. You match the growing pace, hooking one leg over Astarion's hip to pull him flush against your body.

A groan rumbles through Astarion’s chest, and he gives a playful bite to your bottom lip, earning a squeak you will deny if asked about later. One of his hands moves down to delicately play with your breast, kneading softly before pinching your nipple between his finger and thumb. You break the kiss with a breathless gasp, tugging at Astarion’s roots, forcing a ragged groan from the elf. Astarion wastes no time to pepper kisses down the column of your neck.

“I don’t think I tell you enough, just how beautiful you are, darling.” He mumbles against your collarbone before sucking a bit of skin into his mouth and playfully teasing it between his teeth. 

You chuckle, swing your other leg, and link them behind his back. “You tell me at least once a day, handsome,”

“You’re such a sap.” You tease and roll your hips up against Astarion’s cock, already swelling once again.

“See, not nearly enough.” He pulls away from the freshly marked skin.

“You, my love, are so breathtaking, exquisite, beautiful,” Astarion emphasizes each adjective with wet, open-mouth kisses down to your chest before beginning to suck another mark just above your heart.

He grunts, grinding back against you. “Only for you, my love.” 

Astarion’s hand moves between your bodies to your neglected pussy. His deft fingers enter you with a wet squelch, and you instinctively buck into his palm. A whimper leaves your lips, and you dig your nails into the skin of Astarion’s shoulder. He set a pace that is both agonizing and toe-curling perfect. 

“See what you’ve reduced me to, darling,” Astarion whispers sinfully, voice low and filled with temptation, his thumb finds your clit. He applies light pressure rubbing tight circles. 

You throw your head, arching your back, clamping your thighs tighter around his waist. “Fuck, Star.” 

Astarion picks up his pace just a notch; his mouth finds your neck again. “It’s all your fault.” He says before biting your ear.

You cry out his name, fisting the bedsheet, feeling the familiar coil building. You are so lost in your pleasure you barely notice Astarion is now rubbing his cock with his spare hand looking down at you with lidded eyes.

“M close Star.” You cry, bucking your hips against his palm. “Fuck.. don’t stop.”

“I am now merely a sappy, love-sick fool who just can’t control myself when it comes to you.”

Astarion is now pumping his fingers in and out of your sopping-wet cunt in a way that has your orgasm building quickly.

“That’s it, darling,” He groans, kissing you softly. “Let go for me,”

Electricity pulses through you, seizing every muscle, every nerve, and every cell of your body with blinding pleasure. You’re moaning and babbling nonsense and pulling him into a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. Astarion continues his ministrations, helping you ride out your orgasm. Finally, when the heat simmers down, he pulls his fingers from your body, leaving you whining from the loss. 

Astarion is quick to put your whines at ease. “Will you give me one more, my love, please?” Astarion practically begs, kissing you with the desperation of a starving man. 

The tip of his swollen cock slides through your folds and teases your sensitive entrance. You barely have time to choke out a yes, please, before Astarion is plunging into you with a grunt. Instinctually, you clench around his length, loving the feel of the fullness Astarion always gives you. 

“Shit..so tight,” Astarion groans and begins to thrust frantically into your heat. “Always so perfect.”

“Astarion.”

All decency, coordination, and softness was tossed away. Both of you were too sensitive, too desperate for the other, to care for anything but mindless pleasure. It was messy, feral, and perfect. Astarion devoured your mouth, groaning against your tongue. His hands couldn’t seem to stay in one place, constantly caressing, grabbing, and massaging any part of you he could hold. 

You spread your legs wide and angled your hips, bucking against each one of Astarion’s deep thrusts. One of your hands cups Astarion’s jaw, keeping him close, and the nails of your other rake down his back, causing a violent shiver to run through Astarion’s body.

“M-more..ugh, please.” You gasp out between Astarion’s feverish kisses.

He nods in return and grunts into your open mouth. “Shit..ugh,”

With a strength you hope never to get used to, Astarion effortlessly switches your positions. Your hands are on his chest, knees framing his slim waist. He’s on his back, smirking smugly up at you. You giggle dumbly, feeling dizzy from the sudden movement. That giggle turns into a wanton moan as Astarion thrusts up into you, hitting a deeper spot inside of you.

“Yes... Star.” Using the hold he has on your hips, he moves your body to pick up the brutal pace from before. “Gods,”

You bounce on your knees in time with his thrusts, and the room is filled with the slick sound of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of ecstasy. The pleasure is almost too much, and you feel the pressure bubbling again. You try to say as much, but a wave of pleasure has you gasping mindlessly, head lolling to the side.

Astarion wants to feel you come undone around him. Lose yourself so he can lose himself with you. So you oblige his request and snake a hand between your legs just above where Astarion is fucking you and begin to rub your clit in time with his quick thrusts. 

“Love, fuck..ngh,” he chokes on a moan. His thrusts are faltering and getting sloppier.

“T-touch yourself for me... I’m close.” He trails off grunting, but you don’t need words to know what he wants.

It’s all too much, the angle of Astarion’s hips hitting the sweet spot inside you over and over, the delicious grip of his hand on your body, the tenderness of your clit as you add more pressure. You’re so close and trying hard to keep looking at Astarion’s beautiful flushed face and wanting him to be your last image before you fall into black-out bliss. But it’s getting harder to keep your eyes focused. Your numb legs buckle, and you stumble forward; your orgasm is almost painful. It tears through your body, ripping pleasure from your trembling muscles and fried nerves. You bite into the flesh of Astarion’s pectoral to stifle your sobs of ecstasy.

“Fuck, darling, good girl.” Astarion praises, grinding your hips against his. “Shit... I’ve got you.” And with a few shallow, pitiful rolls of his body, Astarion is cumming with a deep guttural groan filling you with ropes of his warm come.

He drops boneless, and you pant against his chest, heart still pounding against your ribs. You both are like jelly melting into a puddle on the bedsheets. You feel the drag of Astarion’s fingertips drawing nonsense patterns on your back. Humming softly, you pepper kisses over his still heart. 

“Shouldn’t be embarrassed ’round me,” you mumble, yawning against his skin, too tired to raise your head. The feeling of Astarion’s fingers felt like a sleep spell. “I love you. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Astarion stiffens under you, hand stilling against your back, clearly taken back. It takes him a bit to respond, but you don’t rush him. Just continue to kiss his chest and melt further at the feeling of his hands on your skin. Content just being here with Astarion.

He clears his throat before saying thickly, “And I love you, darling.” Astarion moves slightly and pulls out of your tender cunt. In doing so, a gush of your combined juices spills down your thighs.

 “Gross, now I feel sticky.” You puff, grimacing at the feeling.

“How about I draw us a bath?” You nod silently and he sits you both up. However you refuse to get off his lap, clinging to him like a sloth to a tree. 

“Carry me?” 

He kisses the crown of your head. “Always.” Astarion scoops you up and carries you along to the bath.

Heya, I quite like how this turned out. I love writing 'rougher' smut, but sometimes the tender stuff just hits ya know? Let me know what you thought. I hope Astarion didn't seem ooc.

If you want to be added to the taglist DM me, please!

Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive @skittleabyss @asterordinary @lariatbunny @whispering-depths @butchboi-chihuahua-slumlord @darkest-part-of-the-forest @queenofcarrotflowers-s @sessils @d20bunny @cherifrog @ophelia-ophelian

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement

Summary: You managed to convince Astarion not to go through with the rite of profane ascension. He remains a vampire spawn, and you now offer your blood from time to time to help with his sanguine hunger until a solution is found.

Even though you had both decided to stay as friends back in Moonrise Towers, lines begin to blur once more as other cravings come to the surface… and things with Astarion are seldom uncomplicated.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Rating: Explicit/18+

Setting: Canon compliant. Post-endgame.

Warnings (will be added as the series progresses): Blood drinking. Pining. Biting. Sexual tension. Mentions of past abuse. Explicit smut.

Chapter 1 - Bloodlust

Chapter 2 - In Between

Chapter 3 - Inconvenience

Chapter 4 - Solution

Chapter 5 - Confrontation

Chapter 6 - Broken

Chapter 7 - Tension

Chapter 8 - Revelations

Chapter 9 - The Arrangement

Chapter 10 - A New Way

Chapter 11 - First Light

Chapter 12 - In the Beginning

Chapter 13 - Tempest

Chapter 14 - Trance

Chapter 15 - Acquaintances

Chapter 16 - When All Things End

Masterlist . AO3 (cross-posted there)

[fabric-shower-curtain]

i need people to see the appeal of astarion just being weird™ during sex he has after his spawn ending. i’m not talking kinky, we have gale and halsin for that, im talking off-putting. not moaning, laughing a lot, breaking a scene randomly cause he’s not feeling it anymore (that’s not weird but isn’t represented enough in smut). enough with this “astarion sex god perfect 24/7” (like yeah i get that because he was an elven prostitute for 200 years) but let my man have goofy sex.

[blue-sadie]

Size Difference

Imagine:

Being halsins mate and he loves to loom over you and taunt you with the size difference between you and him but he loves it, laughing when you struggle to take all of him and it slowly makes him insane.

"That's it my love your almost half way down, come on keep going, fuck your gonna look so good with your stomach bulging just with the size of me"

[astarionmylife]

18+

When you and Astarion first have sex, it's all an act. It's a carefully precise performance he is putting on. Perfectly timed grunts and groans, pretty seductive language. He puts up a domineering front, disassociates like he always used to. It's second nature to him now, sex is not a tender act of affection anymore. It's a deal, the only thing he can offer in a trade. He's in control, simply exists to make you feel good.

As the two of you get closer, when you start experiencing feelings for each other, he doesn't know what to do. He feels lost, and the sex is much gentler. He's starting to feel comfortable with you, sometimes allows you to top and take control as he surrenders. His mask of pretense is dropping, his perfectly manicured act falling apart. He finds little whiny moans escaping him as he finishes. He finds himself clinging to you more and more, trusting you with more parts of his past.

After awhile, the two of you are open with each other, very much in love. You take care of him when necessary, and while the sex is never the same ideal as it was, it's so much more satisfying. And sometimes he can cry during sex, sobs falling down his cheeks as he sloppily thrusts into you, head buried in the crock of your neck as you stroke your fingers through his hair and whisper affirmations into his ears. And on the less emotional but just as horny days, you can spend days in bed, alternating between just holding each other, and pounding into each other. Life is good.

[reverieblondie]

Could I request headcanons for Gale, Halsin, Wyll, and Astarion with touch starved gn s/o?

I ended up rewriting these a few times but I hope you enjoy reading it! Last Bullet point is NSFW!

Haarlep and Raphael with thouch starved S/O HERE

Halsin 

Halsin would never say you were obvious, but figuring out you were touched starved was relatively easy to tell. Especially with the game you were playing, it was clear after the nth time you asked for healing from him from a mere paper cut on your finger. Though, could anyone really blame you? After spending so much time on the road, with no friendly touch for weeks, then when Halsin came to your aid to heal you from a particularly nasty hit from a goblin, That was the start of it, the aching for him; you had been healed by others before but…nobody did healing like Halsin. Most healers hover their hands over you, but Halisn would hold you, pressing his large but tender hands to your skin, letting his healing magic flow through from him to you; the touch would send tingling shivers through you; some would argue that it was from the magic…But you knew it was from his touch. Halsin was more than willing to help heal you every time; in fact, the consent wanting his touch helped you two connect. Halsin hoped you would confess you wanted him to hold you one day. But you never did. So when you came for healing from your “terribly painful stomach ache,” he knew he would have to make the first move. “I think I know the perfect solution to your problem,” he whispered before he wrapped you in a tight hug; every ache and pain melted away from his touch. It is truly the perfect medicine anytime you feel touch starved.

Every party of Halsin is perfection in your eyes. Oak father really did a fantastic job when it came to making him. However, the one place you’re always grabbing onto the most is his arms. It’s not hard to see why; it’s nearly impossible to keep from clinging to his massive limbs, snuggling into them, running your hands over his thick forearms. Halsin, the sweetheart, doesn’t seem to mind your clinging, even if he is busy carving away. Now that Halsin has noticed your fondness for his arms, he may or may not start to flex them subtly when gesturing or wearing shirts that expose them so you can see every slight rippling of his muscles. Halsin will let you cling to him as long as he can nuzzle into his favorite part of you later tonight…

Now usually you’re the needy one in the relationship, pleading for hugs and beaming every time you get wrapped up in Halsins arms. Today has been different, however. It started when you woke up with Halsins hands creasing your sides and snuggling into your neck, of course you melted at the touch, thoroughly relishing in the attention, but it didn’t end there. Usually, Halsin would walk through the woods for some meditation and to gather herbs and materials for you two, but today, he didn’t leave your side. Of course, you loved it, but a part of you was starting to get worried. When you brought it up, he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “I just find myself wanting to be near you, my heart.” You squeeze his large hands back, “Well, let me help you, my love.” rising to your tiptoes, you begin to pepper kisses all over Halsins face. He grabs your waist and lifts you to meet his lips with yours quickly; the kiss only makes him needier. 

He loves every part of you, from your hair to your adorable toes. But his hands consistently linger on your curves. On those days when you are feeling extra needy. Halsin is more than willing to help…In some inventive ways. The contrast is maddening… The smooth honey slips on top of your heated skin, and then Halsins rough tongue licks up the sticky liquid off your stomach. His hands guide your back to an arch as he keeps his hazel eyes on your moaning face. Sucking and licking as his hands continue to run over your squirming body. Halsin doesn’t know what is sweeter, the honey or you; he will spend all night trying to figure it out. 

Zevlor

Zevlor has been around for a while but was never too familiar with the term ‘Touched starved.’ Sure, he had heard it back in his commander days from soldiers whispering about needing attention of the flesh but never truly gave it too much thought…until. The idea came to him when he noticed a particular trait of yours. You had no special awareness when it came to him. Consistently, you were leaning into him quite closely, and when you two walked around during perimeter checks, you would often bump into him or brush your hand against his. Of course, you would apologize for your clumsiness, but deep down, you knew what was happening…Your body was burning for him, his warmth, his touch, and it was seeking it out in any way possible. It didn’t click so quickly for Zevlor until he saw you sparing, and there was no inclination of any clumsiness in your movements; even with others, he never saw you bump or run into anything; your movements were precise and calculated…and that’s when he figured it out you were touching him purposely. Zevlors first thought was, why? Then his second was how can he tell you to only ask him for his touch. Finally, one day, as you two were doing your usual perimeter check, you slowly inched closer and closer to him, seeking the slight relief of his touch. Still, as you went to bump into him for only a moment, you found the ex-hellrider wrapped his arms quickly around you keeping you to his warm chest. Eyes wide, you go to apologize, but Zevlor is quick to quiet your worries, “If you need my warmth…please don’t hesitate to ask me…” After that day, you got a hug from him every chance you could…

Zevlor enjoys the sweet intimacy of your relationship. At first, he was not used to someone wanting to hold him so closely and shower him with affection, but slowly, he is getting used to it and enjoying it immensely. Though, you still find ways to surprise him…For example, when you start paying particular attention to his cheeks and horns, you can’t stop wanting to hold his face so tenderly and whisper soft praises to him. “I’ve never seen beauty like yours, Zevy…” he feels his heart melt at every whisper and every gentle touch to his skin. Then, if you happen to caress the base of his horns? Well…you have never heard such a deep pur.  

 It had been the first day in a long while that you and Zevlor spent most of the day apart. He had promised to speak to some recruits in the city, sharing his wisdom, and you had opted to stay at home. You were expecting him to come home at any minute, so you were working hard to prepare a surprise dinner for him. You missed him being home; usually, you would spend the day working in your small garden together and setting out laundry on the line together. It was lonely without him, so you planned to show him how much you missed him. As you were finishing your stew, you felt arms snaking around your waist. You gasped before his familiar voice eased you, “Be still, my dear, it’s only me…” Your body immediately relaxes as you turn to hug him back. “How was your trip?” Zevlor only hums as he buries his head into your neck. “I missed you…the road was lonely without you by my side…” you rub your hands up and down his arms as they hug you. Then you feel one of his arms part from you and hear the stove turn off; before you can ask anything else, you’re lifted and carried away toward your shared room. “Zev! What- What about Dinner?” “It can wait…I need to be close to you, just for a while…” The stew wasn’t eaten until much later… 

“So beautiful…” his breath is warm as he whispers the complement into your neck. Zevlor’s lips caress your tender skin as he moves to your ear. You cling to his broad shoulders tighten, and your legs squeeze his textured hips. “You’re taking me so well. I’m proud of you.” The moan is involuntary as you feel him push deeper, his lips catching and nipping on your ear, his sharp teeth threatening to pierce, but his tongue soothing you so softly. Moving from your ear, you almost let out a whine before he blows a teasing breath on your neck, causing you to squirm and keen at the tickleing sensation. Zevlor’s fiery eyes look down at you, and that soft smile never fails to melt your core. He leans in, lips hovering over yours, his hands softly gliding down your waist, “I love you…” The vow is then sealed with a kiss. 

Wyll

Wyll hadn’t thought of you as touched starved until you had to tell him flat-out. To his credit, you didn’t make it easy for him to figure out. When Wyll thinks of the term touched starved, he thinks of someone like him. Someone always willing to give out a hug or a friendly pat on the back; if you’re touched starved and in the proximity of Wyll, you were not touched starved for long. Hells, Wyll would risk the burns of hugging Karlach if she so requested. You, on the other hand, would never seem to be receptive to his friendly gestures, having grown up in a home with little affection and living on the brutal road for a while with a pleasant touch would always be a shock to your system. Especially from Wyll, it was like lightning shooting through your body with a new surge of energy you didn’t know what to do with, so you would tense up. After feeling you clamp up, Wyll simply thought you didn’t like to be touched, so ever the gentleman, he stopped. But that only made you begin to grave him…Finally, after days of seeing him touch and hug your other friends, you felt yourself going to pop. In a spur of the moment, you walked into his tent, staring at his confused features; timidness threatened to take you over, so with shaking limbs, you held your arms open with a shaky beg of “Please…” Wyll’s smile would grow so wide as he embraced you. “I thought you didn’t like to be touched?” “I…I like it when you do it…I crave your embrace…” Wyll will never make you ask please for a hug again…but other things, he might…    

You couldn’t explain exactly why you love it so much, but you find you’re running your hands up and down Wylls strong back every time you get the chance. Maybe it was from seeing all its glory when he returned from the river or in the early mornings when he woke up for training. There’s just something about his broad shoulders that lean down to his narrow waist that makes your hands twitch to touch him. Wyll, of course, isn’t oblivious to how you take him in; that might be why he walks around without a shirt more often. His favorite part about liking his back is when you rest your head between his shoulder blades and hold onto him tightly. It never fails to put a smile on both your faces.  

Between the two of you, you’re the one who is always slow to wake. On a typical day, you usually wake up to an empty left side of the bed, but this morning is different. You wake up to your body being held by what looks like a sleeping Wyll. Your first instinct is to worry and check him for a fever, but you find that he feels normal, and when he wakes, he greets you with a lazy smirk. “Are you okay, Wyll? You’re usually up by now?” Wyll hums softly as his eyes lazily roam over your form, “I woke up earlier but found that I couldn’t part from you…” His sweet words always make you blush, and you go to say you're sorry out of habit, but you’re silenced by him gently stroking your cheek. “Well, How about I make breakfast for us? We could eat together.” As you rise, you are quickly grabbed and trapped within his arms, his lips attacking your neck in a plethora of kisses, making you giggle. “You’re not going anywhere…I am not done with you yet…”   

It’s always so slow, his hands sliding up and down your spread legs while your sex grows more and more aroused. One part of you wants to beg him to stop teasing you, but you both know that the loving pass of his hands on your skin is what you crave. Wyll keeps his eyes on yours as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The attention he gives you makes your mind hazy and your sex quiver in a way that only he causes. A moment of weakness causes you to moan his name. He will look down at your flushed face and smile against your skin before finally sliding his tongue on the spot you need him the most. 

Rolan

Rolan is very familiar with the term being touched starved, and from being accused of it by Cal and Lia relentlessly, he was aware of the traits. Not that he thought he ever showed these. Then came you, and it was the end of him being touched starved. Rolan, at first, didn’t understand why every time you were near, your hand would absentmindedly rub in between his shoulder blades or how when you would go out to the tavern, you would sit so close to him, and it wasn’t as if you were unaware of this. No, from how you would look at his curious gaze with a smirk and a sparkle in your eyes, he knew you were messing with him. Though despite this…you two kept hanging out. If anyone would ask you if you longed for touch, you would say you only wanted Rolans and you had no shame about it; you just wished one day he would indicate the touch for once. Finally, one night, Rolan invited you to the tower to do some reading, something you could do at home, but you wouldn’t dream of passing up a moment to be around him. You two had found yourselves on the chaste, sitting very closely, exchanging blushing looks over the edges of your books, and with every passing page, you two would find yourselves inching closer and closer. Then, as your thighs are pressed together, you feel a warmth wrapping around your ankle. Looking down, you see his tail wrapped around you loosely, unsurely. Rolan had finally taken the initiative, and you were beaming. “If it bothers you, I can-” But before he could finish his sentence, you wrapped his arm around you as you curled into him more. You could hear the rapid rushing of his heart, and you could feel how it matched your own. “It doesn’t bother me; I’ve just been wondering what’s been taking you so long…” The teasing only rewards you with a tighter hold. 

You find every part of Rolan to be utterly perfect, from his beautiful horns to his freckled cheeks to his toes. But the one part of him you constantly find yourself playing with is his tail, swaying and twitching like it has a mind of its own. You love to sneak behind him and run your fingers over the ridged base. The shiver and low growl he gives out every time makes you want to tease and touch him more, your hands becoming clammy for it. Today, you’re reading and mindlessly playing with the sharp tip till, finally, he’s curling the tail around your forearm and pulling you closer for a hungry kiss. He says he is being driven mad by your relentless teasing; you can only smile back before whispering, “Then you shouldn’t keep rewarding me…” 

Rolan tries not to let his neediness get the better of him…but some days, he can’t resist your pull on him. Every time he saw you today, his hands roamed over every curve, his nose in the crook of your neck, and he muttered things you couldn’t catch. The attention was well received as you loved his every touch, but when you parted from him to wash up for the night, the look on his face was utter devastation. “I will be quick, then all night I am yours.” Rolan tsked as he let you go, sitting down in his chair where he would wait for your return. You tried your best to hurry into the bath but were not quick enough. As you wet your hair to be ready for washing, you heard the door open and were greeted by the magnificent sight of Rolan in a small cloth wrapped around his waist. He motions for you to make room. He removes his towel and joins you in the bath. You are happy but utterly confused, and Rolan is quick to defend his actions as he gathers soap into his palm, “You took too long, so now I am here to help; now turn so I can wash your hair.” Without any protest, you turn and relish in the feeling of his clawed hands, washing and lathering the soap in your hair, taking the time to scratch your scalp as he cleans you gently. Maybe you should have him wash your hair every time? If you asked, Rolan would be happy, too.  

It started as a pleasant surprise; while you two were working at Sundries, his tail kept brushing against your butt, and when you two would be out of view from prying eyes, his hand would gently caress your ass. These are simple hints of his wants; you are always eager for his touch. Now here you are, pressed against the back wall with Rolan's needy hands grabbing tight handfuls of your butt. Pants are quickly discarded, and he gives you a quick slap to the soft exposed flesh for being such a naughty distraction. You keen and arch, grinding your ass against his burning erection. A deep moan when his nails dig into your flesh as he starts to rut into you deeply. Panting breaths, intertwined limbs, sweaty bodies desperately rocking against each other. It’s the night you learned that the Great Master Rolan is an ass man.  

Gale 

You never thought of yourself as touched starved; sure, you had points when you thought of being held or holding someone, but it was never something you would say you were starving for; well, that was until Gale. It was an accident when it happened; you two had offered to go to the morning market to gather supplies for dinner. The morning market was incredibly crowded, and you two kept getting separated. Gale, always the quick thinker, came up with the best solution. As he walked in front of you like a shield, he grabbed your hand and led you through. The gesture immediately stirred something within you, and as you walked hand in hand, looking at the back of him, you found yourself tightening your grip. During the rest of your time at the market, you two held each other’s hands. It wasn’t until you two returned to camp that you realized you held hands the whole way back. After that day, you reached out for his hand more often. Gale, of course, didn’t seem to mind. He liked the extra company, but getting you to let go so he could cut vegetables was challenging. After a while, you will find yourself craving more touches from Gale. So late one night, you crawled into his tent; when you woke him, he was initially surprised, asking you what you needed. “I…I think I’m touched starved…could…you hold me for a bit?” Gale’s heart nearly burst out of his chest, but he eagerly invites you into his arms, delighted to share in cuddles and maybe a few kisses.    

It should be no surprise your favorite place to touch Gale is his hands. They are perfectly soft and fit perfectly within yours. You find that your hands are interlocked together if you’re by him. Gale finds your need to hold him in some way lovely and ultimately endearing. Gale’s favorite times when you hold his hands is when you are fast asleep curled up with him in his bedroll, your hands interlaced with his. He doesn’t dare move them because he knows you will only start seeking them again in your sleep.   

You’re used to holding Gale’s hand, but on days he’s feeling needy, you find that his hands tend to roam. Today had been one of those days; his hands had started lazily, moving up and down your arms, gently grazing you all morning so tenderly. By the afternoon, his hands had found their way to run up and down your back, moving so slowly to send shivers through your body successfully. Then, in the Evening, they moved to trace your sides as his lips caressed the sensitive skin of your neck. Finally, you asked if he was well, his lips smiling against your skin. “Perfectly fine…just being needy for you…does it bother you?” you feel your skin flush, and your lips curl to an excited smile. “No, I like the attention from you…” Gale is always ready to shower you with attention; you just need to ask…   

The man didn’t lie when he told you he had a practiced tongue, and tonight, you are finding that out firsthand. You felt needy when you crawled into his tent; it was late, and he was surprisingly awake. At first, it was innocent, simple hand holding a kiss or two like other nights before to satisfy your need, but tonight, you’re finding your aching for more, and Gale knows this. All you need to do is ask…Your hands grip tightly to the blankets as his tongue works against you. Gales focuses as his hands grip your thighs, and he sucks and licks more. He’s desperate to taste your release all over his tongue, and with him always being so good to you, who are you to deny him? 

Astarion

With all he had been through, the feeling of being touched had become unstimulating. Astartion had felt every kind of touch possible. Well, at least that’s what he thought, until you. The energy between you two had been electric from the first moment; you were brilliant, and his usual charms didn’t make you bend like they did others. In fact, for all his teasing, you would give back your own. It was like a game between you two, and it only made you crave each other more. Then it hit its peak…You were admittedly getting lost in his words as he spoke to you, but it was different; it was genuine, and you had never felt so close to others. So when you gently brushed back his hair as he talked, you both found yourself looking at each other in surprise. Your weakness shocked you, and Astarion was surprised by someone touching him so gently, as if he were made of glass. Going to take back your hand, it’s quickly caught by his, and gentle lips pressing to your palm sets your skin ablaze. The kiss was as soft as your touch, but Astarion can never pass up an opportunity… “Couldn’t help yourself anymore, hm?” You would accept defeat this once…

Astarion has never been a fan of cuddling…well, not until he met you. And what did you do to make him change his mind on the slow and intimate activity? Astarion loves the way your fingers brush slowly and carefully through his hair. He finds he has gradually become needy for that soft, gentle touch. On the other hand, you love the feeling of his soft locks slipping through your fingers; actually, there are many things you can adore about Astarion; you find the soft touch of brushing through his hair always seems to relax you. You could spend all night with him in your arms like this…and you do. 

You didn’t know if it was your imagination, but Astarion seemed grumpy today. You had tried to joke around with him and even participate in some teasing and flirting, but he wasn’t receptive. Thinking it best to just drop it, you left him alone for the rest of the day, going about your usual task. Then Evening rolled around; you were getting ready for bed when you heard a throat clearing outside your tent. Poking your head out, you saw Astarion looking…bashful? “Do you mind…if I slept here…with you…I’ve…been feeling off…” One part of you wanted him to explain; he had ignored you, and now he wants to sleep in your tent with you? And wait, elves don’t sleep? But something about the look in his red eyes…he seemed…lonely…Gently, you reach your hand out to grab the sleeve of his shirt and pull him in softly. The rest of the night was spent with you sleeping with your head in his lap as he read to your sleeping form. Being around you made him feel so much better; it was as he thought…he was starting to rely on you, and for once, the thought of depending on another didn’t scare him. 

Sometimes, you can not decide who is needer between the two of you. Of course, you two tease each other about it, but Astarion is always the better tease. You’re rolling your eyes in both pleasure and annoyance as he moves his tongue across your chest, your nipples peaked and sensitive to every feathery touch. You try to keep your moans in, but it’s useless; “You make such pretty sounds, darling, keep it up.” His cold hands move between caressing your chest and your skin to find your sensitive nipples. Red eyes look up at you, filled with mischief. Is he satisfied with just a taste? Or will he bite…

[astarionancuntnin]

Midnight's Embrace

summary: you can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep. your fight with the netherbrain is approaching fast and your anxiety is only increasing. halsin proposes to try a special brand of herbs to alleviate your mind. turns out this herb also awoke something else in you.

rating: E

word count: 3k

pairing: astarion x you x halsin (fem!reader)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with no plot, late act 3 business, reader is tav, massage turning into something more, polyamory, reader is sandwiched between her two bfs, recreational drug use, stoned sex, mildly dubious consent due to drug intake (reader & astarion), praise kink, threesome, dry humping, blood/vampire bites, unprotected sex, anal fingering and penetration, double penetration, creampie, aftercare, overall sane safe and as consensual as one can be under the influence.

a/n: taking a smol break from my angsty writing to deliver some smut goodness. hope you enjoy! (i sure did)

a/n²: this is absolutely self-indulgent stuff and i will not be sorry about it. i wish i had two loving boyfriends fucking me while i was high, is that so much to ask

read on ao3

or keep reading down below ~

You can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep.

Since your arrival in Baldur’s Gate, your nights have been restless, and your anxiety related to your upcoming fight with the Netherbrain has only increased. It’s not uncommon for you to wake up sweating in the middle of the night, panting, and checking your surroundings. You feel as if you’re only one inconvenience away from crumbling and your lovers are worried about you. You keep trying to reassure them that you’ll be fine once the Netherbrain is dealt with, but they won’t hear you out; you’ve only ever taken care of your companions since the start. Everyone has found their peace but you. 

Halsin and Astarion urged you to start to focus on yourself, and you wanted to, but the truth is you had no idea where to start; you were used to taking care of everyone else, your own wellbeing never crossed your mind. One night, after Astarion feeds on you, he mentions how tense you are, and that he would gladly massage your neck to help with the tension you've accumulated. This makes you think about asking your other companions about their own techniques to decompress. Throughout the day, you ask around: “what do you do when you’re stressed out?” Shadowheart mentions that she meditates and stretches, and while it’s not a bad idea, with your mind constantly racing, you doubt you’d be able to easily meditate. Lae’zel mentions practice dueling, which she usually partakes with Wyll, and although it seems to be working for them, you wanna try to avoid more fighting before your upcoming fight. 

That’s when Halsin tells you about the medicinal benefits of some herbs, and how they could help you relax. Although you’ve never tried, you’re open to the idea; you’ll try anything that could potentially ease your night terrors. You spend the next day marching the streets to reach an herb shop. As you enter, a lady greets you cheerfully, offering her help to find you exactly what you need. They offered a great variety of consumables infused with their many strands available : pastries, desserts, drinks and potions, candies; if you could imagine it, they had it. The lady explains the effect each of their products have and their specialities. After looking around, you settle on a cookie with Midnight’s Embrace, a sleep inducing herb. You thank her and head back to the Elfsong for the night.

You finish your meal with the special cookie and soon after, you bid your companions goodnight before fetching your partners to accompany you through the night. After all, you still intend on holding Astarion to his word about that massage he mentioned the other night, and Halsin promised to be by your side as this was your first time consuming something like this.

You had reserved the room with the biggest bed they had, just for this occasion.  You reach for the bed first, lying comfortably on your chest, ready for your long-awaited massage. Halsin is next to join you, removing his shirt to get comfortable before sitting next to you with his back against the headboard, and Astarion joins soon after, kneeling behind you. The pale elf straightens up before laying his hands on your back, wasting no time to work through the knots in your tired muscles. The relief you feel is almost instant.

Halsin combs through your hair, pushing it aside to reveal your blissful face. “How are you feeling?”

“Sooooo good. A massage was the best idea.”

As it turns out, the massage combined with the herb-induced dessert enhanced each other, as the effect of the cookie you ingested earlier had already started settling in. When the lady mentioned they were “fast-acting”, you didn’t expect almost spontaneous-acting. Your skin feels more sensitive – in a good way – but you know that it’s the effect of the drugs, as if every touch was the softest caress you’ve received, and you found yourself leaning in the vampire's strong and graceful grip, only wanting more. As he makes his way to your lower back, a few unconscious moans escape your mouth before you can stop them. 

“I take it that you’re enjoying yourself, then?” Astarion asks, smiling, in response to your moaning.

“It’s just… your hands…” you sigh content, leaning into his touch. “They feel amazing.”

“I'm happy to provide, my love.”

His dexterous hands turn you to putty and you wish you could feel more, every inch of your body yearning for attention. He keeps working on your back while you reach out to Halsin, his much bigger hand holding yours tightly. You slightly turn your head to be able to look at him.

“I… want you to touch me too.”

“Tell me where you need me, my heart.”

“Can you hold me? I want to be held by you two.”

The two men look at each other in understanding before repositioning themselves on each side of you ; Astarion hugging your waist from behind, nuzzling himself in the crook of your neck, and Halsin sheltering you in his arms, his head resting on top of yours.

The effects of the cookie kept getting stronger : you felt lighter, more peaceful and happier, your mind was clear from any lingering anxiety, only taking in the love surrounding you. In the comfort of their arms, you let your hands roam over the archdruid's chest, exploring each crevasse. The drugs made you more sensitive, especially down there, and it doesn’t take you long to feel a familiar warmth pool down to your stomach. You gently rub your thighs together, chasing the feeling growing between your legs, when you feel the man behind you slightly pull away. 

“Hold on, are you–” He raises his head to look down your waist, “Oh, you little devil. You are touching yourself!”

It seems that you had lost all awareness, not realizing your movements were brushing against Astarion’s groin. Your blood rushes to your face and you suddenly feel warm, “I– Gods, I didn't realize–”

He clicks his tongue, “None of that. We're here for you to feel better, remember? Now, tell us, what does your heart desire?”

“I…” You feel bashful for all the thoughts swirling around your mind, unable to speak them aloud: you wish to be taken at once by both of your lovers, having them make you feel whole as they fill you with their love, touch, kiss, bite, every part of your body. Surely, you're influenced by the herbs, but you can't deny that even sober, the thoughts have crossed your mind. The drugs simply allowed them to wander freely and amplify them slightly. 

You finally manage to get a few words out, barely expressing the full extent of your carnal desires, “I want you… Both… to… massage me… everywhere.”

Halsin cups your face softly, kissing your forehead before getting up. “Let's get you comfortable, shall we?”

You nod hazily, and he helps you remove your camp clothing, before removing the rest of his own, leaving you both naked on the bed. While Halsin was helping you dress down, Astarion allowed himself to remove his own shirt, providing you the skin-on-skin you desired from both of them, all the while respecting his own boundaries. Now comfortably nestled between your lovers, you let your hands explore the man facing you. His warmth is overwhelming and you can't stop touching him, languidly going over his chest and shoulders, your concentration faltering.

“I believe our beloved is rather hungry tonight,” Astarion says, smiling.

The archdruid makes eye contact with you, lovingly holding your cheek, “Is this what you want, my love?”

“Yes, please, I've never wanted anything more,” you plead, now with a breathy voice.

Halsin gives you a soft smile and his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. Your hips buck on their own, brushing over Halsin’s cock already awakening to your touch

Astarion keeps massaging your tits, never letting you go from his embrace and starts kissing your neck.

“Do you like that, my sweet?” He said between two kisses.

“Y- yes… please… more.”

He drags his hand alongside your body, his nails lightly grazing your skin, tracing every curve, every scar and mark on your body, leaving goosebumps in its trail, before landing over your ass.

“Like this?” He asks with a husky voice.

“Yes…” you breathe out.

Halsin follows Astarion's lead, his own hand caressing your side before landing on your thigh, lifting it up to hook your leg around his waist.

“How about this?”

His hand finds its way to your cunt, softly stroking along your entrance.

You sigh content, your hips bucking into him more, trying to make his fingers enter you.

“More…I need more…”

The archdruid slides his finger inside you, giving you exactly what you want and you moan, letting your nails dig in the muscles of his arm. He steadies his rhythm and your hand finds its way in Astarion's hair, pulling him closer to you. His lips reach your ear, guided by your hand.

“By the gods, you're so beautiful,” he says, nibbling on your ear, getting a whimper out of you, as he leaves a trail of kisses down the nape of your neck.

The attention from your lovers makes you squirm under them as every inch of you is yearning for more contact. Halsin rewards your movements by entering you with a second finger and you cry out of pleasure.

“Keep singing for me my love,” Halsin says.

His fingers working your cunt and his thumb rubbing over your clit only awaken something stronger in you.

“Please Halsin, I need you.”

“You will have me, my heart.”

Your other hand reaches for his cheek, forcing him to look into your eyes, “All of you.”

He reads the urgency in your gaze and he removes his finger from you, giving them a taste and humming at your essence.

“By the Oak Father, you taste like the sweetest of honeys, my love.” His voice is deep, but soft; you can hear the admiration he holds for you, your body, your soul, and it only makes you want him even more.

He places his cock at your entrance before slowly pushing in fully, and you hold onto his face, taking in deep breaths as he gives you time to adjust to his size. 

“Look at you…” Astarion whispers close to your ear. “You're taking him so well, my love,” he rewards you by groping your nipples, lightly pinching them in the process.

You arch your back at the sensation, giving him easier access to not only your breast, but your neck as well, and his mouth instinctively finds its way to the familiar spot of his feeding. His cold tongue traces over your pulsating vein, seemingly asking for permission, and yet, you were the one reduced to a pleading mess.

“Please...”

He hums in the crook of your neck and you feel his smile against your skin, “Please what?”

Your chest rises higher with each breath you take “Bite me.”

He holds your head back by lightly pulling your hair and sinks his teeth into your neck. You cry out at the initial sting and quickly get lost in the feeling. The flow of your blood leaving your body is even more ecstatic than usual; as if you could feel the blood in every vein in your body being pulled away as Astarion drank from you ravishingly. Knowing your limits and accounting for the condition you're in, he pulls back earlier than usual, and you whine at the loss of his mouth only to moan more as Halsin finally starts moving inside you. What the vampire hadn’t thought of was the effect your blood was going to have on him, now that it was mixed with the drugs you took earlier. It wasn't rare for him to get hard drinking from you, but he usually dismissed the feeling since you've discussed taking things slow. This time however, his cock felt rock hard and the drugs now flowing through him made him chase the feeling that the fabric rubbing over him was providing.

He grabs your waist, grinding into your back, while Halsin pumps in and out of you with slow strokes. With any restraint gone, Astarion pushes his hips into you, rubbing himself down through his trousers. By now, his need is clearly showcased by the pre-come stain on his pants, and the head of his cock poking out of his waistband, flushed pink by your blood running through it.

Halsin notices Astarion's mood change and he reaches out to hold his face, bringing him back to him, before he can act on impulse.

“Do you want this?”

His eyes are sincere and caring; granted the reasons they're in this situation is for you, but that doesn't undermine their own needs as well. Astarion nods, affirming his consent, before freeing his erection to show his intentions. Now certain that his lover wanted this as much as himself, Halsin made sure you were ready for them.

He cups your face and gently strokes your cheek. As if he had read your mind earlier, he asks, “Do you think you can take us both, my heart?” 

“Yes,” your voice is merely a whisper, but the lust you express is clear nonetheless. 

He removes himself from inside of you to wet his fingers with your juices, only to take them back out to move them down to your tight hole. His finger coated by your slick gently enters your ass and you gasp at the sensation, surprised at first, but welcoming it as you push down against him. He slides a second finger and you moan in pleasure.

“That's my good girl.”

He prepares your hole, making sure you're accustomed to the feeling, then removes his fingers to spit in his hand, now to prepare Astarion for you. He grasps the vampire's length and slowly strokes him. Astarion hisses at the initial contact, but quickly melts into his touch, bucking his hips into Halsin's wet hand. The archdruid aligns his partner's cock at your tight entrance while he positions himself back against your pussy, ready to enter you again. He asks for one final permission.

“Are you ready, my love?” 

With partly lidded eyes, you nod and whisper a faint yes, and he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss, while his hips and Astarion's thrust into you at once. 

You cry into his mouth, both overwhelmed by their sizes and the friction having both of them at the same time provided, and behind you, the vampire growls, steadying himself inside your ass. Having both him and Halsin inside you like this was a sensation you couldn’t begin to describe. It’s everything you ever wanted, you feel whole, but also vulnerable; you were entirely at their mercy, and you wouldn’t be able to get out from their strong hold on you, especially not in the state you’re in. You're completely helpless, caged between their imposing arms and legs, and yet, you’ve never felt more safe than you do right at this moment. For once, you could let go, let yourself be guided, your life between their hands.

You’re brought back to the moment when they start moving, picking up a slow and steady pace, and you let yourself be used by them; while one pulls out, the other enters you fully. You’re rendered speechless, reduced to moans and soft cries, but your lovers make sure to fill in for your silence.

“You feel so good.” The voice behind you groans close to your ear. His grip on your hips tightens, with his sharp nails lightly digging into your soft skin.

“So deliciously wet, just for us.” A honeyed voice praises you more and you start to lose your hold.

“Gods, you’re so fucking tight.”

“You're doing so well.”

Their words of praise worked like a charm on you, and they knew the effect it had on you. They noticed how you reacted to encouragement on the battlefield, and it applied just as much in bed. 

“My love.”

“My good girl.”

The shock to your mind hits you like lightning. You convulse between them, crying out as electricity runs through you, your walls tightening against their cocks, milking them dry. 

“Ugnnh I'm– ah fuck- I'm close.” 

“Mnh- my heart, I’m gonna come–.”

You're still going through your first orgasm when you feel a second one hitting you brutally as they shoot ropes of come inside both of your holes, leaving you overflowing from them.

The sensation numbs you out entirely, still spasming around their members, but completely spent and breathless. Your mind is blank, with nothing but pure bliss swirling around. As if you were between two worlds, switching from dream to reality, you barely feel your lovers pull out of you and move around, cleaning themselves and you. You think you hear a distant voice saying “let’s get you cleaned up” as you’re lifted up from the bed. You don’t notice Astarion removing the ruined sheet, but too tired of his own to care about replacing it with another, and snuggling back in bed. You’re laid down next to him and you instinctively reach out for him; your hand reaching out for his, laying close to his undead heart, and your forehead leaning over his shoulder. Finally, the archdruid slides behind you, covering you three with a warm blanket, his arm circling over your waist. At long last, you let yourself drift to sleep in his loving embrace.

For the first time in weeks, you get a real, good night of sleep.

~

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat

[riseatlantisss]

The end we start from

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3

Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.

TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood

A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.

Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.

Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.

You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.

“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”

You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”

“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”

You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.

“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.

“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.

“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”

Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.

“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”

His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.

“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.

“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.

Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.

He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.

But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.

Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.

He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.

You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.

“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.

He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.

You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.

Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.

Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.

Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.

“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.

He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”

[newtabfics]

Thinking about Astarion not realizing he's into dry humping. Like has Tav in his lap. They were just supposed to be making out. That's it.

But damn. The way they grind against him as they kiss him. He grabs their hips to drag them along his hardened length making sure to add the right pressure to make them mewl for him.

It's perfect. They look so amazing in his lap as his hamds force their hips to move.

"That's it, Darling. I know how badly you need it. Just behave and take this."

He is breathless and biting his lip as he feels them shuddering in his hands.

He watches the way they press against him and roll their hips. The way they kiss his jaw and comb their fingers through his hair.

He would shudder as he realized they were taking control, kissing him more feverishly. He would moan softly, hands tightening around their hips.

He whimpers softly. "Darling, wait--oh fu..." He groans when they kiss his ear and moan his name.

And then he's lost. He makes a mess of his underwear and grunts into their neck as he holds their hips tight, locking them against him as he bucks his hips up against them to feel them twitching in his hold.

He brags about this for days.

...

"Darling, I didn't even have to strip you down and I made your pretty eyes roll into the back of your head."

"...You whined out how much you love me as you rutted against me like a bitch in heat."

"SHUT UP!"