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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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Who else loves random descriptions of intimate positions?

Me, I do. I am incredibly touch starved. Anyways-

Main good route companions + random intimate positions! Pt. 1

All of you villain/evil route lovers, you will be fed soon. (I am one of them)

Forewarnings: Suggestive content, fluff and not proofread

Astarion loves to hook your leg over his shoulder as he kisses you. One hand crawling up that leg from the hip, to the thigh and to the calf. His nails trailing and leaving a tickling grace in it’s wake. You shudder at the touch and squirm a little. He relishes in that and you can feel his cheeky smirk against your lips. You gasp as he nips your lower lip with his fangs. He takes that chance and deepens the kiss between you two.

Wyll intertwines your fingers in both hands. Presses them on the ground up by your head as his mouth lavishes your neck. You can feel his breath against your earlobe and it makes you shiver. His legs trap your thighs and you’re laid beneath him as he stares at you. His gaze speaks only admiration. It’s so intense- and raw. He whispers sweet nothings as he kisses you. You’re sure to find some marks he left on you in the morning.

Lae’zel hooks her leg around your hip. You’re kissing on her chest as her fingers place upon your head. Her little gasps and whimpers are quiet- muffled. She’s trying to conceal how much she enjoys this as ever the strong woman she is. You dig your fingers painfully into her waist and she groans unabashedly this time. You hum approvingly before she takes the reigns. You turned this into a challenge.

Shadowheart loves to place her head on your thighs. No matter how small or large. You can feel her hair tickle your skin, the braid held in one hand as you run along the length of it. Her eyes are closed contently as she savors the warmth you emit. It’s almost unnoticeable the way her fingers gently creep up the outside of your thigh. Not until she’s placed her palm on it and squeezes. There’s a smirk on her face as she continues to feign innocence.

Karlach has your head placed on her chest as she lays. You can hear the infernal engine working under her ribcage. It’s mechanical and unnatural… but the heat she radiates comforts any sort of unease you have. Her hand strokes your head and neck as you bury into the soft flesh of her breasts. There’s a laugh that rocks her body, seemingly amused by how you snuggled into her. You laugh with her too, pressing a gentle kiss against the glowing part of her skin.

Gale wraps your legs around his hips and you instinctively lock your ankles together. His hands slide under your thighs towards your rear, cupping it as he holds your hips in the air. He gazes at you with warm brown eyes as he lowers his head. He plants kisses from the center of your chest down to your stomach. His teeth occasionally nip as his tongue darts out to taste the flesh. He does so until he reaches your pelvis before retracing his steps. Once he reaches your chest, he parts and meets your lips this time.

Halsin holds you in his arms as he stands. You feel weightless in his grasp, even if you’re bigger. Despite his size- people still seem to underestimate how strong he is. He kisses you tenderly as he wraps his arms protectively around you. You’re enveloped in him as his scent washes over you. It smells like forest dew and wild-berries with a hint of his natural musk. He whispers in your ear about how you’re the finest creation nature could bestow him with.

Jaheira seems to regard you almost like porcelain. She’s an older elf and it’d been over a century since she had a lover. Fighting Ketheric Thorm and surviving the curse was her purpose for years. She holds you like you’re going to vanish. Arms linked around your waist and legs tangled in yours. Her nose presses against your skin and she breathes in your scent. You smile softly as you allow the woman to enjoy your presence and touch. Your fingers tracing shapes onto her shoulder-blades as she relaxes like putty.

Minsc holds you tightly and almost crushes you against his chest. He truly forgets his own strength sometimes as he hums happily. He savors the feeling of your heart thrumming against his skin. When you squirm, he blinks and loosens his grip with an apology. You simply smile and shake your head, telling him it’s alright. He has a guilty look as he watches you carefully. You sigh and crawl up a little to press a kiss against his cheek. Like that, he straightens up and holds you again. He’s more careful this time but the grip is still firm enough to hold you against him. What a gentle giant he is.

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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Jonathan Sims x Spiral Avatar! Reader

Knowing Jonathan Sims was… an experience. When you first met him, you were just giving a statement.

You knew he didn’t believe you at all. To be fair, you were blazingly high when the experience happened, and high when you gave your statement.

While smoking with some of your friends, you stumbled upon an old book your father, who you hated, had collected before he died. You hated that book, you hated the ominous air it gave off, how your father obsessed over it, how he mumbled passages from the book, sketch fractals on every surface in the house, and hit you with the leather cover whenever you invited his rage. You tried burying it, but somehow it always came back to your coffee table. You never even bothered to read the words on the almost transparent-it-was-so-thin pages. You hated that stupid book as much as you hated your shitty father.

So you found the stupid book, and told your friends that you couldn’t even get rid of it it; and as one of them flip through the pages, they mention how similar they were to rolling papers.

… and well, didn’t that give you a novel idea.

Page after page, after your friends left, you slowly tore and filled and rolled the thin sheets of the book, lighting up until you couldn’t even lift your head. For months, you slowly decreased the thickness of the book until only half the pages and the leather cover with that stupid stamp of “Leitner” was left.

Well and all; but each time you lit up, you saw things. Normally, when you were high, you were just relaxed, slow moving and thinking and caring; a giggling, hungry mess that rolled around on the floor and dozed in and out of consciousness. But whenever you smoke with the pages from the book, thing were different.

Shadows from the corner of your eye moved and pulsed, you heard low whispers from every direction of the room. The worst of it was all the doors you saw. So many doors that didn’t belong in your house. The curiosity to open them, to trapeze through those rooms and halls, was staggering. You were always of such low motivation, to feel the so much desire to do something (beside getting high and sleeping) was unusual. However, you were too stoned to move, so you never actually entered a door. Even when a tall thin woman in a wacky business suit threw the door opened and tried to coax you in; even when a creature resembling a man with endlessly curling blonde hair sits with you and speaks nonsense at you as you tried to comprehend your surroundings.

Whenever you did come down, things wouldn’t just return to normal; there was always a stray door that would taunt you; the sound of the man laughing ringing in your ears.

When you gave your statement, you couldn’t really give a damn about the circumstances. You were seeing weird shit, and the Magnus Institute was for telling people about weird shit that was seen. Did you care that you were going insane? Not a bit. You father went crazy when he got that book, god knows what got into your mother to copulate with the man, and you reckon that your entire lineage was severely fucked in the head. You self medicated to cope, what choice had you? Seek professional help? Open yourself up bloody and raw to a stranger who was paid to give you fake platitudes and a low grad prescription for mania? Absolutely not. And frankly you were more taken to the effects of marijuana rather than alcohol or any other kind of drug.

So yes, you were high when you went to the Institute to give your statement. And Mr. Sims was less than impressed by your antics. In fact he more or less chewed you out entirely in the privacy of the archive room. It amused you greatly; as he yelled at you about ‘decorum’ and ‘self-pride’, you could only muse about how badly you wanted to see this man specifically as high as a kite and zoned out, drooling on your couch as you combed your fingers through his pretty, curly brown hair. You smirked at the mental image, which only seemed to enraged him further.

After you left the place, however, things had gotten… much worse.

As soon as you got home, you got blitzed off your ass. Despite whenever you used the paper from the book things got super weird, that didn’t exactly stop you from continuing from doing it. Sure, you saw unexplainable things, but you weren’t one to waste paper.

You supposed the reason why you liked being high was the surrender. The passing of responsibility of your thoughts and actions unto something else. To completely give yourself up for a few hours and not be for that time; to be consumed by the buzz of nothingness and allow yourself the high of not thinking straight. There’s a sort of control in losing control to something else.

Maybe that’s why you changed.

It was subtle at first. You noticed your highs lasted much longer than they normally did; soon you weren’t even consuming any of your stash, you were just perpetually buzzed. Then you noticed you could control how high you were exactly, after one instance where you were annoyed with being numb everywhere; suddenly you were almost entirely sober. Still a little high though.

Your biggest discovery was that you could intoxicate others. While you were at a club, you kissed another party-goer in the alley by the club, and you watched in fascination as his pupils dilated immediately and he fell to the ground, silently screaming and clawing at his face. Between his terror you could understand him saying something about feeling bugs in his skin. The knowledge that you caused this sunk into your hazy brain with a rush of excitement and pride. You did this. You reduced some boring, straight laced business man on holiday into a pathetic writhing mess, so high out of his mind that he was truly panicking, probably for the first time in his life; he was truly afraid.

And the fun of doing that, scaring people, far outweighed the joy of being high.

Being high was still super fun, though.

By the time you polished off smoking the pages of the book, you were certain you weren’t totally human anymore. Maybe human adjacent. You were at some point, for certain, but now you were something else. Similar but distinctly different from before.

You took great joy in terrorizing others. You tried being careful at first; most people just assumed they were drugged, or whatever substance they took was laced. Then you got reckless, you supposed. One of your victims, a college boy who was a friend of a friend, who was lured back to your car to scare him through a drug haze, went to the Magnus Institute.

Apparently, even though the idiot young man was already high when you met him, he remembered your face quite clearly, and was insistent that his encounter with you was ‘supernatural’ purely because there was no physical way he could have gotten that out of touch with his senses.

Now, you have minor control over what your victims hallucinate. Usually, whatever was in the recesses of their mind was enough to scare them, but the stubborn ones required some… direction. With that college boy, you managed to convince him he ate rotten meat from an alley way, that there were maggots and bugs and all sorts of diseases crawling around in his guts, in his skin, when in reality you never even left your car until he became so terrified he was rendered unconscious.

You thought your original visit to the Institute was written off; you were certain there was no way Jonathan Sims bothered to remember your face, let alone your name. But there you were, once again in the same recording room as last time, after one of Sims’s meekish assistants contacted you for a “follow up”.

You should’ve known it was a trap to confront you. But in your defense, you didn’t think the archivist was smart or ballsy enough to pull a stunt like that. Yet, here you were, once again being glared down at, with a written statement from the boy you’re tormented in front of you.

“Well?” Jon asks, one bushy eye brow raised in annoyance.

“Well indeed.” You reply, scanning the page once more. “Sounds like this lad had a hell of a trip, some people can’t handle their substances.”

This only seemed to anger the man. “The person he describes sounds an awful lot like you. Even some of your mannerisms and ticks were mentioned. Are you denying this is you?”

You laugh. You couldn’t help the sound from breaking through your teeth.

“It is you, isn’t it.” He accuses.

“Who it is, and who it isn’t, aren’t the problem Sims…” you drawl, throughly amused. “The real problem is you’re believing the accounts of some pot head. What happened to the ineffable skeptic I met months ago?”

He flinches, and you note the movement with great interest. “… I should have believed you about the doors.” He mumbles. “When you came in, I shouldn’t have written you off so quickly, least of all belittle you like that.”

It was your turn to quirk your eyebrow. “I’m getting the feeling you met Micheal, then?”

With shame, he looks away, and you sigh.

“Tell you what…” you say slowly, tongue heavy from the feeling of intoxication. “… I’ll give you another statement, but just for us. Just for you.”

Intrigue paints his features.

“No one else, not even your assistants, not your boss, gets to hear about this. Just you, only for you.”

Now he looks at you in scrutiny. “What do you get out of the exchange?”

A wild smile pulls across your face. “I wanna get you blitzed out.”

“Good lord.” He groans.

“Come on!” You laugh. “I’ll take you to my place-“

“No.”

“We do a little hash-“

“Absolutely not.”

“And I’ll give you an explanation to the weird shit I can do!” You exclaim. “I’ll give you full details, I’m not dodgey about questions like Micheal is, I can give it to you straight!”

“You are aware that the consumption, distribution, and possession marijuana is illegal in the United Kingdom?” He hissed, scandalized.

“Duh; that’s what makes doing it even more fun.” You explain, amused. “You asked what I wanted out of my statement, I told you.”

He huffs. “How is me getting high going to benefit you?”

You never found a point in being dishonest to pretty men. “I think you’d look cute dazed out of you mind.”

“Wha-what?”

You shrug. “You’re pretty, and I think you’d be prettier high, and I wanna see it.”

Jon flushed, tan skin becoming tinged with red. His upper teeth dug into his bottom lip, and his eyes darted away from you so quickly you almost heard them snap. “That is- you can’t just say-“

“You found a way to contact me before; use that method to contact me again when ever you decide on what you want to do.” Standing from your chair, you see the archivist take a small step towards you, almost as if to stop you but he thought the better of it.

You open the door, and before you ascend the steps, you look at the pretty book worm one last time.

“And for the record, whatever that little shit smoke up with was stolen from me. He deserved it. I probably scared him straight anyway, you should be thanking me.”

“That doesn’t make what you did right.” Jon snipes back.

You shrug, unconcerned. “I don’t care about what is right or not, Sims.” You level him with a blank look, allowing a haze to permeate through your conscious. “I hardly care about anything at all.”

And with that, you left.

—

It took a grand total of two weeks before Jon Sims contacted you directly. You were pleased as peach to answer your phone, hoping it was the pretty and emotionally surly archivist.

He had agreed to meet you under your circumstances, and you could help the giggle that leaked into the receiver when he spoke. He talked like an old man, it entertained you ceaselessly. You wondered if he even would be able to keep his bookish facade while high. You hoped not; to see Jonathan Sims at a loss for words would be delightful.

Later that evening, upon your doorstep, in a comfortable brown and grey cardigan, was Jonathan Sims. He seemed nervous, tightly gripping his tape recorder and note book as he stepped into your home.

Honestly your house was a wreck. It’s been in your family for generations, and no one in your bloodline has ever really cared about cleaning up after themselves, yourself included. Did it look like a trap house? Probably; but you could get to the kitchen, your couch, and your bed; so unless something was in your path it was ignored. Jon eyes the trash in the corners of your home, but said nothing unkind.

Sitting him on the couch, you leave only to return less than a minute later, holding a small pastry.

“Is that… a marijuana brownie?” He asks, eyes the confection with anxiousness.

You laugh boisterously, shocking him. “It’s called a pot brownie and you damn well know it, Sims.” Sitting next to him, you unwrap the napkin. “Ten milligrams would be too much for your first time, and five I don’t think would really do anything but take your edge off, so I split the difference to seven. It’s what I started out on and it’ll do just fine.”

He stared down at the piece of brownie with dread, and as he tried to reach for it you pulled it away.

“Hey now.” You warn, frowning, “Do you actually want to do this?”

He scowls. “I’m here aren’t I? Besides, what choice have I?”

It was your turn to scowl now. “If you really don’t want to do this I’ll find another way to make us even. It’s no fun being high against your will.”

He eyes you with an annoyed expression. “Isn’t that what you do to people?”

“Yeah, ‘cus they’re assholes who don’t deserve a nice experience. I’m trying to give you a nice experience.”

“So you target people you deem unworthy to torment?” In the silence of the room, you hear the ever so faint sound of something turning. Has he been recording you this entire time?

You roll your eyes. “I’ll spill my guts soon, Jon, don’t jump the gun. Do you actually want to get high or not.”

He seems to battle with himself for a long moment before nodding. “… I really wanted to try it in college… but I didn’t have any… connections…”

You breathe a laugh. “You didn’t have enough good friends who knew where to get a stash, huh?”

He mumbles something like a, “shut up.”

“Aw, baby-“ you croon, a hand reaching up to pet at his hair. “It sucks to be left out, huh? Never lived up to the traditional college experience? Don’t worry, honey, I’ll fix that right up; you’re in good hands.”

Finally you bring the brownie piece back into reach. “Don’t eat more than this for now; anymore and you’ll be fucked rightly.” You warn.

Nodding, Jon gently takes the piece from your outstretched hand. Grimacing one last time, he places the entire bite size piece into his mouth, and slowly chews.

“It tastes strange.” He complains.

“There’s weed in it, precious.”

“Not that; you didn’t sift the flour when you made these, did you?”

You throw your head back laughing. Oh this was going to be delightful.

—

Forty minutes in and Jon’s head was in your lap as he stared blankly up at the ceiling. Humming, you combed your fingers through what you could of his hair.

“You doing alright, pretty boy?”

A sound comes from his throat, and you know it was a half hearted attempt to respond.

The best course of action, you decided, was to remain as sober as you possibly could be, to be there for Jon during this new experience. After about twenty minutes, his speech began to slow, and by the thirty minute mark, he asked to lie down.

One of his hands held yours, leaving his other hand limply on his stomach.

“You’re doing such a good job, Jon.” You whisper. “You’re doing so well.”

He whimpers, turning his face into your stomach as his skin once again alights with a blush. Removing your hand from his mane, you rub your thumb against the small circular scars along his cheek bone.

“I can’t feel my face.” He complains, high and breathy.

You hum again. “You never are able to feel your face, you’re just actually feeling it for the first time right now, you’re hyper aware of it.”

He groans again, longer, annoyed. “Shh, I don’t want to think.”

“All right, sweet heart,” you say sweetly, “It’s normal to feel things like that. You’re doing just fine.”

“… I can feel all my skin at once, then. And my head feels like a pillow.”

Biting back a laugh, you resume stroking his hair.

“Can you feel through hair? I can feel my hair.”

“Boy, just wait until you start watching trippy movies like this. ‘The Cell’ is gonna be great.”

He groans again. “I don’t want to watch anything, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“Close them, then, sweetheart.” You coax. “No shame in it, do what feels nice right now.”

At your encouragement, he curls into almost entirely. He moans again, nestling his face into your stomach. You try not to laugh at the sensation of his vibrations tickling your skin through your clothes. “Please keep talking…” he mumbles, “Your voice is nice…”

This time, you did chuckle. Normally, you were amused by everything, but this especially entertained you. “I think your voice is nicer, I could listen to it for hours.”

Jon’s head swivels so he could peer up at you. “Please, no one wants to hear me prattle on about my statements or, or my theories on them.”

Working on a particularly difficult knot in his hair, you hum. “I know I would, who knows, those statements seem to be pretty interesting, a bunch of cool stories to listen to.”

“Right, the trauma of others are interesting.” Sarcasm drips from his lips.

“Well, everyone loves a good scary story.”

Jon sighs and returns to nestling your stomach. You ponder his earlier request and speak. “Your recorder going, yeah?”

The man’s hand slides away from his face and fumbles around beside you until his hands grip the device and presses a button, the sound of faint whirling enters the air.

You introduce yourself to the device, stating your name and occupation, and just began talking. You spoke of your father and his beatings, about the terrible book, when your drug habit started and progressed into what you are now. How you feel powerful picking out certain people to torment, finally taking back the dominance your father stole from you. You muse about Micheal and Helen, and about the doors, the connection between you and the disconnection from reality. You end your statement with a shrug, saying something along the lines about how your humanity is a choice you constantly make, but if you wanted you could abandon it easily.

When you finish and look down, you see Jon is asleep. He is warm and heavy in your lap, he is snorting softly, and he look truly and deeply at peace.

Reaching your hand into the tangle of Jon’s fingers, you turn off the recording device. As you stare at the man, you feel a dopey smile stretch across your features. Maybe, for right now, you’ll be on better behaviour. If for nothing more than to keep Jon near you.

#OUUUUUUHH THIS IS SO GOOD

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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Gale’s Moving Castle

When a young elf named Astarion was cursed by a Vampire Lord, he decided to pay a visit to Gale—the most powerful wizard in Waterdeep, rumoured to be stealing hearts.

Original: Howl's Moving Castle (Studio Ghibli, 2004)

#im going to start screaming and crying and ripping my guts out #this is too perfect

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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The duality of man

(Reference)

#THE VOICES THE VOICES THE VOICES

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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I just realized when rewatching the Karsus's Folly scene...

...with Gale kneeling, looking up at you with guilt and repentance, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.

#ending my life rn

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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Not to sound like a broken record, but I'm a sucker (pun intended... sorry, Astarion) for his ears getting pinker as he feeds on you. Such a neat detail...

#im going to pass away

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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tags: 18 minors dni, established relationship + marriage, set in the ending where wyll is the duke of baldur’s gate, gn reader, reader is implied to be a rouge of some sort, some type of brat taming. let me know if i missed something!

synopsis: you’re used to taking your pleasure in your hands. wyll has had enough of it.

If one were to ask you how you would describe Wyll you would say gently lost in the way he handles the children in the grove and how gently he offers his assistance to any in camp who need it. It’s easy to forget the steel of the Blade of the Frontiers behind the gleam of pearly teeth. And maybe Wyll let you get away with too much, letting you off with a simple teasing remark. That was then and this is now - Wyll is your husband by vow and decree, and you find that the gold of his wedding ring isn’t the only metal that gleams in the candlelight of your shared room. You’re on your side, trapped beneath the bulk built from 3 meals and daily training as his dark skin shines in the orange light that douses the room.

“You are so stubborn.” he grunts into your ear, bending the meat of your leg back and over his hips. The hair on his skin tickles your hips and you gasp - grunt and moan when his hand comes to grope at your chest. His cock is inside you, the only place he would ever want it to be.

“I’m not stubborn - fuck.”

“I’m your husband now, you are to lay with me whenever you wish.” He pants into your ear with a voice so wrecked with lust it cracks under its weight. You feel full, full of so much emotion it makes you weep and the blissful stinging ache of Wyll’s cock stretching you out that your tears are golden beneath him.

“Ah! I am not stubborn! Just don’t -“ You gasp in mid-sentence, words dying upon your lips as your husband takes it upon himself to set the pace. One akin to his love for you; deep, all encompassing and growing from a slow pace. Your face is brought to his, lips bursting into flames at the slight touch from their proximity.

“I don’t want to bother you.” you whisper against his lips, they feel like satin to your slightly chapped ones. Despite getting used to sleeping and living in the upper city you are still not quite used to the comforts it provides. You still wear the scuffs of your past, alongside the scars of your adventure.

“You never bother me - not your presence or your pleasure.” he pauses to sink into you all the way in. The tip of his cock pushes against every spot inside of you that makes you yelp like an injured animal. Wyll is not a cruel man but letting him have you like this makes him consider that it might not be so bad to be one.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Each word is punctuated with a thrust and followed by the wet squelch that comes from your lower half and you respond with a pathetic little yelp each time.

“No more scampering off. Next time you’re leaking between your thighs you come find me. I’ll make time to take care of you - I’m yours now so stop thinking you can pleasure yourself when I’m right here.” You don’t have it in you to argue, to make some sort of remark or comment. Instead you nod, your legs wracked with so much pleasure they only hang there, twitching with each shock. Wyll presses his lips to yours finally and it’s with the gentle heat of the kiss you unravel - tightening and spilling down your thighs and Wyll gasps as he finishes quickly in tow. He pulls away with the webbed strings of spit following him and when he speaks his words are wrecked.

“Give me a moment, we’ll go again. I’m not done with you yet.” You think on his words and with a heated face you only nod and go to kiss him one more time but not the last.

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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Lockpicking

Summary: You ask Astarion to teach you how to lockpick and things get... out of hand.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Fingering. Dry humping. Innuendo. Praise kink. Finger licking.

Word count: 1.7k

You should have known better than to have asked him this.

Initially, he had regarded your request with an entertained scoff and no less amount of smugness.

But Astarion did find enjoyment in showing off his skills whenever the situation called for it.

And that was what landed you on your knees, inside some dingy cave near Baldur's Gate.

“You do need to focus, darling.”

You repositioned yourself and straightened your back to properly eye-level with the rusty chest in front of you, thieves’ tools in hand, prodding the stubborn lock.

Astarion was down on one knee, right behind you, body pressed faintly against yours.

An unwanted distraction, no doubt.

His cool hands gripped yours as expert fingers twisted and turned the sharp tools inside the opening.

He always made it look so easy, unlocking doors and chests in the blink of an eye.

“Maybe the lock is faulty,” you huffed in annoyance, allowing him to guide your fingers. “Should we try another one?”

“You're too impatient,” he said disapprovingly, his voice but a whisper next to your ear. “The lock isn't faulty, but it requires some tender love and caring to pry it open.”

Your brows furrowed as you took a deep breath, taking the reins and twisting both tools to the right.

His fingers gripped yours in an instant, and he took control once again, but all to no avail.

You let out a low growl of frustration.

“Darling, lockpicking is like making sweet love,” he chuckled briefly, fingertips grazing the back of your hand. “You need to exercise patience and focus.” You could feel his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Just as a lover, you must listen to them and tend to their needs.”

You nearly rolled your eyes. “You did not just make that comparison.”

“You'll find it to be true. Every lock is different and requires not only the right tools but the right amount of dedication.”

An innuendo?

“That is nothing like love-making.”

A metallic click.

“Did I not just describe how I make love to you, then?”

Inadvertently, your heart jolted into a quicker thrum, and heat rushed to your cheeks as his words caught you off guard.

“Must you be so vulgar?”

He rotated the metallic rods in your hands effortlessly, his body pressing further into yours.

“It's simply the truth, darling,” he said with a click of his tongue. “It's not my fault that dexterity comes in handy in various situations.”

This entire ordeal felt strangely intimate all of a sudden, as if you were both dancing to a tune only Astarion was privy to.

The mechanism clicked once more.

“You're doing good.”

Being sincerely praised by him provided the kind of pleasure that you wouldn't easily find anywhere else.

He rubbed the back of your hand tenderly, effectively letting you know you were on the right path.

“Grip it tighter with the tips of your fingers,” he urged before pressing a fleeting kiss just behind your ear. “You must keep a firm grip.”

Shivers spread across your body at the feel of his cold lips caressing your sensitive skin.

You swallowed hard, finding it extremely difficult to concentrate on the task at hand with your lover actively working against you.

Your hands jittered, and you nearly dropped one rod.

“You're awfully distracted.”

The familiar pool of heat in your lower abdomen flared at his taunting words, but you cleared your throat and shoved one of his hands away, wanting to keep your focus and sanity intact.

“I've got this.”

He scoffed. “Have it your way, then.”

You expected a snarky remark and triumphantly smiled to yourself as you were met with his silence instead.

Narrowing your eyes, you kept prodding the opening with renewed focus, following his previous instructions.

You heard a few more clicks, but not the one you were in search of.

And then you felt his free hand grazing the waistband of your trousers, fiddling with the buckle of your belt.

And just like that, your concentration was broken yet again.

“What are you doing?”

Silence.

Experienced fingers pulled on the strap until it was set loose.

Your eyes widened, and the tools in your hands quivered as you came to a halt. “...Astarion?”

He undid the button next and gently tugged on the fabric. “As you said, you've got this,” he whispered dangerously low in your ear. “And I've got you,” he finished before slipping his hand inside.

Your mouth dropped open as his finger trailed past your undergarments and settled between your folds.

Immediately, your hips jerked, and you let out a strained gasp as the throb intensified.

“Focus,” he cooed, rubbing gentle circles. “You're nearly there.”

His other hand steadied your grip around on the tool.

“Try rotating it to the left.”

Your hands were getting sweaty and far too jittery, and you nearly dropped the one on your left when he began drawing circles anti-clockwise to match his words.

Words failed you, and you could only gasp, allowing him to take control, using the tool to turn the mechanism.

“Hear that sound?”

You heard a faint metallic pang coming from the opening.

“Focus on the sound coming from the lock,” he said in between kisses on your neck. “Make it sing, and it will open up for you.”

He increased the pace, and you moaned loudlier than intended, eyes fluttering shut as you rolled your hips against him, yearning for more and more friction.

“Hear how beautiful it sounds?”

“Yes…”

At this point, you weren't sure if he was indeed referring to the locking mechanism or to how you kept whimpering under his touch.

He then bucked his hips into you, and you felt the unmistakable print of his strained erection pressed against your lower back.

The motion nearly had you tumbling forward had it not been for his free hand that steadied you.

“Easy now, darling,” he teased, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Maybe you should part your legs. For balance, of course,” he added, but you doubted that was the real motive.

Even so, you quickly shifted your knees apart just enough to grant him further access.

“Good girl.”

You had to bite down hard on your lip to suppress a moan.

One finger circled your entrance, and you felt a gush of wetness spilling from you with each stroke.

Your hands quivered from the stimulation, rattling the metal rods inside the lock.

He brought his hand back to yours, his thumb caressing your unsteady fingers. “You're nearly there… just a little more prodding…”

“Astarion…” you groaned in frustration.

He immediately hushed you. “Careful… we don't want to draw unwanted attention, do we?”

Just as he finished delivering his taunt, he dragged his finger to spread your wetness across the throbbing swell in between your folds.

The overwhelming sensation was too much to bear, and your hand dropped to your thigh, gripping the rod tightly as if holding on for dear life.

He paused his ministrations in an instant.

“You'll need to slide that one inside to unlock it, darling.”

You couldn't care less about the damned chest, as the need for release took over you.

But Astarion seemed to have other plans.

“Slide it in,” he said, gripping your wrists. “Go on… I'll help.”

You slumped lightly against him, enjoying how his cock kept on hardening against you, and how he was beginning to lose his composure, low grunts erupting from the back of his throat.

He lifted your hand, and just as he slid the tool back inside, you felt a finger slip inside your entrance until he was knuckle-deep.

“See how easily it slides in?”

You rolled your hips, wanting to fuck yourself on his finger, riding it desperately.

The increasing pressure in your lower abdomen began to blur your vision as your mouth fell agape, your senses taken over by him.

You were close.

Too close.

Deliciously close.

And he knew it.

Of course he did.

Astarion was a dedicated and devoted lover who didn't shy away from having you come undone for him.

“Nearly there…” he said, rolling his own hips into you.

You kept on riding his finger, the heel of his palm pressing down between your folds, further pushing you over the ends on your sanity.

His free hand still covered yours, his slender fingers fully guiding you, and you couldn't even understand how he was able to keep his focus on the damned lock as you rode him.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, and he seized the moment to tease your exposed skin with his fangs.

Somewhere in the distance, you heard a familiar clicking sound.

“Let go, darling… I've got you.”

His sweet guidance was all you needed from him to finally tip over the edge, plunging headfirst into the blinding wave of pleasure that began tearing through your body like lightning.

He added a second finger just in time, prompting the neediest sobs to erupt from deep within you, and he quickly covered your mouth with his other hand, muffling your cries of pleasure.

“There you go.” He cooed sweetly.

You immediately dropped the tools to the floor with a loud pang and gripped his wrist in the hopes that would be enough to anchor you.

For a split second, you considered biting his hand to suppress the uncontrollable moans but decided against it, enjoying how your voice reverberated across his palm.

And as you began spasming against him, you heard the most delicious hiss spill from him, his strained cock rutting further into your lower back.

You clenched hard and rhythmically around his fingers, riding out your wave of pleasure.

His hand eventually dropped from your face, and he planted the softest kiss to the flushed skin of your cheek.

“Well done, darling.”

You gradually went limp against him, struggling to control your breaths and hearing your heart still pounding hard in your ears.

“Gods… that was…”

The words died in your throat as he slid out of you, earning a whimper from you.

As you regained some of your strength and battled your sore muscles, you turned your head to face him.

“How are you so good with your fingers?"

He chuckled as he tasted your wetness that dripped from his fingers.

“In which way?”

Your gaze was fixed on how his tongue expertly wiped you clean from him.

“Don't play coy. I wish I could be this skilled…"

His crimson eyes narrowed deviously. “I'm sure you'll get there, eventually – well, probably not, though.”

You gave him an offended glare.

He nudged his head to the chest in front of you, and you watched in perplexity as the lid had slightly shifted.

“Not that hard, was it?”

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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Eat Your Young

Astarion and Tav take advantage of the rainy weather in camp. Pure smut, no plot.

Pairings: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, swearing. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Listen, usually I like a lil plot but Astarion sometimes deserves just some good ole smut, right?! Also inspired by the Hozier song, "Eat Your Young"

REMINDER: my inbox is open for requests!

Astarion's hand roughly ran down your neck, the candles in his tent casting shadows over the space. He hissed in pleasure as his fingers gracefully found your collarbone, his nails tickling the skin around your neck. You groaned, your eyes fluttering closed.

"This is not what I came in here for." You said, even though you knew that was a lie.

Well, partly.

Basically since the beginning of your adventure with the companions, you and Astarion had found yourselves drawn to each other. First as friends, but then quickly into a sexual situation. A way to satiate yourselves, and to have a bit of shining light in the darkness that was all the doom and gloom and battle and blood.

"Oh?" Astarion asked, his mouth dangerously close to your neck, "And what did you actually come in here for?" His voice was melodic, almost a purr. You felt his fangs lightly drag across your neck - enough to leave a scratch, but not enough to break skin. You gasped.

"F-for the book," You were able to choke out, one of your hands finding his hair. You ran your fingers through his locks, earning a quick moan from Astarion, "The book I lent you last week. I know you're done reading it, so-"

"You came all the way across camp in a rain storm for a book you could easily get from me tomorrow?" He pulled away, his eyes twinkling. It was bullshit, and he knew it. "Is that why both of our clothes are off, and were discarded on the floor within 45 seconds of you coming into my tent, my pet?"

"Um..." You bit your lip and both of you smiled, "I'm easily distracted." You tried to argue, but Astarion's lips were on you again, his tongue quickly finding yours. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed his body on yours, his erection pressing into your stomach. Thunder clapped outside, causing you to jump, which caused Astarion to wrap his arm around your back tighter, bringing you closer.

"What do you want, my darling? Tell me," He pulled away from your mouth, but his lips were still touching yours. Your heart pounded in your chest from his breath on your face, "Tell me what you want." His voice was velvet smooth, causing your stomach to clench. You groaned, unable to stop yourself - how did this fucking man know exactly what to say, and exactly what to do to get you going?

"I want your cock in my mouth," You said quickly, it coming out as one breath. His eyebrows raised and he smirked, wordlessly pushing himself to the edge of the bed to give you space. Looking down at his erection, you felt a wave of heat rush to your clit, unable to contain yourself.

Before he could even lay down, your mouth was on his cock hungrily. He moaned in surprise, his voice echoing off the tent walls. Immediately your mouth filled with spit as you worked on his thick member, using your tongue the exact way you knew he loved. His hands found their way into your hair and pulled, causing you to grip the blankets underneath your hands.

"Hells, you're so fucking good," Astarion grumbled, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, "Deeper." He commanded.

You made your way fully down on his member, causing his hips to buck in your mouth. You felt your eyes water a bit, and pulled up, taking your mouth completely off of his cock. "Does that feel good?" You toyed, pumping him in your hand. He moved his head back to look at you, his eyes a deep red. You watched the end of his mouth turn up in the shadow of a smile.

Suddenly, the rain started to beat harder against the tent walls.

In one swift movement, Astarion's hand grabbed your chin, pull you on top of him. His member, slick with your spit and precum, slid against your body, causing you to gasp. He looked between your eyes before hungrily crashing his lips against yours again, this time pulling your hair roughly.

"Not as good as it'll feel when I'm inside of you." He said in your ear, before biting your lobe. You moaned loudly, the noise getting lost in the rain.

"Then fuck me."

"Say please."

"Please, Astarion! I need you."

"You need me to what?"

"To fuck me. I need your dick inside of me." You reached down to his cock and started to pump him again, causing Astarion to erupt a small moan from his lips. He looked into your eyes one final time before he flipped you below him.

"On your stomach." He said, waiting patiently. He was sitting high up on his knees, looking down on you. Now, his cock was in his own hand and he stroked it slowly, taking the full length of his member in his palm. He didn't break eye contact as you got on your belly. Soon, you felt him spread your legs gently, and his body weight pressed on top of you.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, you'll be screaming to the gods by the end of it." He murmured in your ear. You shuddered at his voice, and soon you felt him lining himself up at your entrance.

"Oh, Astarion..." You breathe, your thoughts becoming a jumbled mess. You heard him chuckle before he continued on.

"Are you ready?" He asked. You felt like you couldn't speak, your stomach was so clenched in anticipation. You nodded, and almost instantly his cock was deep inside of you, sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body. You called out, lifting your head. As you lifted your head, Astarion took hold of your hair and pulled.

"Gods, you are so fucking tight." He groaned, every word accentuated by a thrust inside of you. You clapped you hand over your mouth so you wouldn't cry out, but he pulled it away, "Don't. I want everyone to hear."

"Fuck, Astarion!" You called out, his hands finding your hips for better leverage. You felt a heat start to rise within you, causing you to breath harder. "Don't stop! Right there-"

"Right there?" He purred, his voice teasing, "Right there and I'm going to make my good girl come?"

"Yes!" You moaned, his voice ripping through you, "Yes right there and I'm going to come. Don't stop!"

The sound of his cock pounding into you filled the tent as your mind became foggy. The pleasure started to soften the sides of your vision as Astarion gripped your hips, definitely leaving marks for tomorrow. As your words turned into incoherent noises, you felt Astarion thrust into you harder, making sure you felt filled.

"Show me you're a good girl," He murmured, his voice steady; in control. As Astarion often was - in control. It drove you crazy, usually the catalyst in tipping you over the edge. "Be my good girl and come for me."

Finally, you felt yourself spill over him as you cried out his name - the heat rose completely in you and for a moment, Astarion stopped thrusting in you, taking his hands and wrapping them around your waist, so that he could feel your orgasm completely. With your head so close to his, he whispered words of praise in your ear - "Good girl. That's it - come for me. Let me feel it. Give me all of it."

You panted, your thoughts finally starting to align again. As you regained control of your body, Astarion gently flipped you over. Spreading your legs open, he entered you again slowly, earning a whimper from you. Two thrusts in and he caused you to throw your head back, crying his name.

"That's it - that's my girl," He hissed, speeding his thrusts up slowly, "Let me see that pretty face, darling. Your pretty face is going to make me come."

"Astarion, FUCK. You feel so good!" You couldn't help yourself as he started again, one of his hands finding it's way to your erect nipples. He pinched and palmed your tits as they bounced with every thrust - the sight of your body bouncing, and your face calling his name, he wasn't far behind you with an orgasm. But, he wanted it to last...

He wanted to wear you out.

It was always so sexy seeing you struggle in the following days, knowing that he alone was the cause.

"Your cock...feels so good..." You panted, your hands finding their way to his shoulder blades. Thunder clapped again, drowning out the scream you cried as Astarion hit your spot. Once he realized how crazy he was driving you, he smiled.

"All for you," He grunted, "This cock is all for you." Sweat beaded at his temples as he stared into your eyes. They were dark, hungry - he started to get the glint in his eyes that he would before he was sent over the edge.

Astarion pounded into so hard that the bed groaned under the pressure. You could feel Astarion's body start to tense above you, so you gripped Astarion's ass, pushing him deeper into you.

The extra effort made you start to see stars, and Astarion was on the same page; "I'm close," He grunted, touching his forehead to yours, "Hells, you're going to make me come."

"Come for me," You breathed, placing a sloppy, rough kiss on his lips, "Come for me."

Suddenly, Astarion called out your name, and you felt him spill into you. The tension in his body reached his climax and gradually released, his body laying completely on top of you.

The only noise in the tent - besides the pounding rain - was your and Astarion's breathing. The shallow, quick breaths turned into deeper, heftier breaths and you regained your composure, the heating slowly leaving your body.

"Gods, you're beautiful." Astarion murmured, brushing your sweaty hair behind your ear gently. He delicately placed a kiss on your lips as he slid down to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you tight. You sighed contently, running a hand over his side and snuggling your head closer into his shoulder. A moment of silence passed before you spoke.

"I did actually come here for that book, you know." You teased, causing him to chuckle.

"Oh? Would you like me to go get it for you then?" He asked, pretending to get out of bed. You giggled and gently pushed him back down.

"Shut up," You playfully scolded him, "I just wanted to let you know that I didn't just come here to seduce you."

"But darling, it's so much fun getting seduced by you." He looked at you and smirked, his eyes sparkling. You rolled your eyes and placed a kiss on his mouth.

"Well...I guess I'll have to let you borrow my books more often, then."

------

My first time doing smut with no plot - I'm gonna be honest, I don't know how I feel about it yet! What did you all think?

Just a reminder: my inbox is open for requestions!

#actually going to rip all my hair out this is so good

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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Pointy Ears

Summary: You accidentally find just how sensitive Astarion is when it comes to a certain part of his body…

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Sub-ish Astarion. Ear sensitivity. Blood drinking. Fangs. Astarion being a whimpering mess. He's also a big shooter (idk if there is a more accurate terminology in fanfiction haha). Handjob. Cumplay. Praise kink. Edging (if you squint). Nipple play.

Word count: 1.8k

You could feel Astarion was nearly done, as your fingers raked across his scalp and through unruly curls, the warmth of your blood spreading gradually across his skin.

He was comfortably nestled between your legs, occasionally bucking his hips into you as his cock hardened with each passing second.

Even as your vision began to blur, the pleasure vastly overcame the impending sense of dread. After all, he could easily send you over the edge between life and death if he lacked the restraint to stop himself.

Your other hand caressed the lukewarm skin of his arm and traveled up to his neck, where you could feel his throat shift rhythmically under your touch as he downed mouthfuls of your blood.

“Astarion…” you whimpered faintly, as life slipped from you dangerously fast.

He grunted once but didn't budge.

Bringing your hand to his face, you felt a growing wave of panic take over.

He had never gone too far.

But dizziness and chilling shivers quickly enveloped your body, rendering you nearly helpless.

“Astarion…”

He rolled his hips into you but kept his mouth firmly latched onto your neck, his concentration never wavering.

With eyes pressed shut, your fingers reached up until they faintly brushed past the tip of his ear.

And then he instantly froze.

As if stung by some unseen entity, he quickly pulled back from you, wide-eyed and lips stained with blood.

“What's wrong?”

He reached out for the scroll of Lesser Restoration on the bedside table and placed it in your hand before rolling off of you and onto his back.

You uttered quick words and watched as the piece of paper dissolved into thin air, quickly feeling your life force being restored as warmth and vigour sprawled along your body once again.

“Astarion?”

He had his eyes closed shut, and you watched as his hand hurriedly made its way to unlace the front of his trousers, alleviating the constricted erection.

Had you done something wrong?

He didn't seem troubled or uncomfortable, and merely let out a sigh of pure relief as he freed his cock.

“Do that again. Please.”

You arched an eyebrow as you rolled on your side, utterly confused. “Do… what?”

“My ear… touch it…”

Oh?

Your eyes landed on his flushed, pointy ear, and you proceeded to give the sharp edge a tentative caress with the pad of your thumb.

His lips parted with a soft gasp and he arched his back ever so slightly.

This was new.

Your gaze shifted to his lower half, noticing how his hardened cock twitched as you brushed the warm skin of his ear.

Seeing his cock fully hardened and with this faint blush to it thanks to your own blood coursing through his body, never failed to send the most delicious jolts of pleasure between your legs, effectively igniting a gentle throb.

“Does that feel good?” You cooed, staring back at his face again as he let out a few whimpers.

“Ridiculously good.”

That was all the incentive you needed, bringing your forefinger to his ear and giving it a soft squeeze between your thumb.

“Gods…”

This time, he rolled his hips, and you could only stare in complete awe as the first beads of precum began to drip from the tip.

You involuntarily licked your lips and lowered your head to rest on his unmoving bare chest.

He felt cozily warm from having fed on you and couldn't help but to reach down with your other hand, tracing a finger along a single bulging and thick vein that spread along his cock.

Your feather-like touches kept drawing out the most beautiful whimpers and gasps from him.

His mouth watering cock was always so responsive to your touch, that you found yourself grinding your hips instinctively against him.

A needy moan parted your lips slightly at the mesmerising sight of a single string of precum bridging the flushed tip of his cock to his lower abdomen, and beginning to pool on his skin as a few droplets threatened to spill down.

Once again, you ran your finger along the protruding underside of his length, too entranced with how it twitched so eagerly for you.

Unsurprisingly, Astarion reached down with one hand, wanting to wrap his fingers around his length, but you intercepted him halfway through.

“Allow me, lover.” You whispered sweetly, lifting your head to take a look at him.

As expected, he looked positively ethereal; his face tinted with the faintest blush and his half-hooded crimson eyes set on you.

“You don't have to.”

You shifted higher, letting go of his hand, which he dropped to his side, and you leaned in until your lips brushed against the pointy edge of his ear.

“Do you want me to?”

He chuckled lowly. “If I want you to pleasure me? What a silly question, darling.”

You smiled at his bluntness before darting out your tongue to join your fingers.

Another guttural groan escaped his lips, and his eyes fluttered shut once again.

Leaning back, you positioned yourself to sit next to him, wanting to keep your focus on both his cock and ear.

His eyes flew open, and he began to prop himself on one elbow and hand reaching out for your trousers, clearly trying to be the one setting the pace.

But you shoved him back with a chuckle. “Just lay back and allow me to take care of you.”

He arched an elegant brow at you.

He was too used to being the one taking the lead. It was instinctive for him to have control over each other's pleasure.

But you wanted him to lose himself in the moment, not having to concern himself with anything but his own bliss.

“Pretty,” you said truthfully as his eyelids nearly dropped when you brushed a finger along his tip. “So pretty…”

He immediately whimpered, lust-blown eyes never leaving yours. “Yes. Yes, you are.”

Gods…

Astarion was truly a natural at leaving you speechless with his words.

You kept the gentle and unwavering caresses along his sensitive ear.

As you shifted your gaze, you noticed the pool of precum on his lower abdomen already overflowing, droplets rolling down his skin.

Instinctively, you swiped two fingers to collect some of it, and began spreading them along his cock, earning a hiss of approval.

“You delectable little vixen.” He groaned out with a few rolls of his hips.

The swell between your legs throbbed viciously from his praise, and it had you wrapping your fingers around him.

His own wetness aided you in your initial strokes, feeling the bulging veins under your touch caving in momentarily before filling up with your blood once more.

You could get used to having Astarion like this for eternity.

Just too lost in genuine pleasure and lust.

Trusting you to guide him to unheard of heights and fully letting go.

The pace was set.

The perfect balance between steadiness and tightness, and more than enough to have him jerk his hips upwards as he fucked your hand.

You reckoned he wouldn't last long given how his whimpers intensified each time you applied the slightest pressure to the shell of his ear.

Suddenly, he moved one hand to your chest, and you gave him a disapproving pout, not wanting him to take over.

But…

“Let me see them…”

His words came out laced with desire and whimpers, eyes set on your eyes as the hint of a plea made you gasp.

You kept the pace on his cock as his experienced fingers tugged at the lacing of your shirt. He worked his way down agonisingly slow, chills spreading throughout your body as more and more of your skin was exposed to his gaze.

He halted once he found what he was looking for.

With a soft tug, he moved the fabric out of the way, your swaying breasts in full view.

A violent jolt of pleasure nearly has you halt at once, too taken aback by the eroticism of all of it.

“Keep going, darling…” he urged, honey dripping from his words. “You can grip it tighter, can't you?”

Gods above…

He then brushed his thumb across a hardened nipple and your mouth fell open in a strained gasp.

Your breasts moved in unison with the pace on his cock, lewd sounds echoing around the room.

You had to bite down hard on your lip to muffle the moan stuck in your throat.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he tutted disapprovingly, his thumb releasing the trapped lip and moving to press down on your chin to pry your mouth open. “Let me hear those sweet moans.”

It annoyed you how he was so quick to reverse the roles and how easily you fell for his traps.

But you weren't ready to let him win just yet.

"Maybe you shouldn't make such demands when I have you in the palm of my hand - quite literally."

The glaring pun made him scowl.

You offered a devious smile instead.

Then, you increased the pressure on his ear, and the effect nearly had you chuckle viciously at the sight of him immediately crumbling down, back pressed flat against the mattress again.

“Gods!”

The whine of frustration mixed with a moan let you know you were victorious in having him right where you wanted.

His hips snapped more aggressively into you as you squeezed him even tighter.

He was so close.

There was something so incredibly hypnotic about having this man coming undone for you.

Because of you.

You couldn't think of a more effective ego-booster.

So by the time he reached his peak, you could only glare in utmost wonder as you felt his cock twitch violently under your palm as the first spurts of cum shot out, reaching as far as his chest - one even reaching his neck.

Your mouth fell open.

He had balled his fists, gripping the bedsheets so fiercely as he rode out the untameable wave of pleasure. His head was thrown back as he arched and shuddered, profanities spilling from his pretty lips.

And the sound of fabric tearing echoed in the room.

Oh.

You aided his cock as best you could, squeezing the final drops of cum, mesmerised by the amount of thick liquid that now covered him.

Still driven by your own unrequited pleasure, you leaned to swipe your tongue across his nipple, collecting as much as you could.

His hand moved to the back of your head, silently urging you.

It only took a couple of swipes to gather enough cum to pool on your tongue.

Astarion's half-hooded eyes met yours. “Does it taste good?”

With the most sultry look you could conjure, you swung your leg over his torso, effectively straddling him as your mouth hovered over his.

“You tell me.”

He furrowed his brows inquisitively.

And you promptly took his lips in yours, which he eagerly parted. You seized the opportunity to push your tongue against his, allowing the liquid to drip down.

He groaned as he tasted himself on you, deepening the searing kiss, both hands on your hips, grounding you.

Yes.

You could definitely get used to this.

Masterlist

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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unleash me ( wizard's tower as a prison)

#I NEED HIM SOOOOOOOO BAD

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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baldur's slay

#why is astarion doing that

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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..a hand. part two. (I could draw more, but you know.. he can use a counterspell)

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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I CAST: WOLFBOIFICATION BEAM!!!!!!!! 🪄✨🐺 Become even HAIRIER!!!

#PLEASE I LOVE THEM SOOOOOOOOO BAD

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absinthe-adonis · 2 years ago

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Sleepless

Pairing: Wyll x fem!Reader

Genre and warnings: smut, fluff, Wyll tries very hard to not fuck Reader, fingering, praise kink (kinda?)

Wc: 1.4k

Plot: Wyll is sleepless, and your tent is just a few feet away from his.

Wyll stared at the fabric of his tent hovering over him as the silence of the night took over the camp. Everyone was already asleep or meditating, while he was tossing and turning in his bed roll, the sound of your carefree laugh was still echoing in his brain as he imprinted the image of you in the back of his eyelids.

His heart was heavy with the longing for your touch that night. It was like he couldn’t rest until he held you close to him. Whenever you’d crawl back to your tent after dinner, he couldn’t help it, he missed you.

When the moon was at its peak, he couldn’t hold it anymore. He rose from his bedroll and swiftly made his way towards your tent. Only when he got close enough, he could hear you whimper his name so low he felt it in his bones. You were having a nightmare and he wasn’t there to comfort you.

He didn’t hesitate then to open your tent and sneak in. But when he turned towards you to lay next to you, he was met with a totally different reality.

You were laying there disheveled, legs wide open and your fingers between your folds. Your eyes were closed, and your lips were chanting his name lowly. Your blouse was half unbuttoned, your breasts revealed to him.

He was speechless for a moment, the sight of you touching yourself and thinking about him was awakening something so deep within him that he had to muster all his will to restrain himself from tearing his clothes away and take you right there.

You were the most beautiful, and he was oh so grateful that the gods blessed his eyes by giving him a speck of heaven.

The guttural sound that escaped his lips was enough to get your attention. You turned flustered, your eyes wide open as you were caught. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks as you were about to sit up and apologize to him, but you were stopped when he knelt next to you, and you had his eyes trained on you. They were dark, hungry, and they were only for you.

He caressed your cheek before leaning closer.

His lips brushed with your ear as he got close enough to whisper. “You are such a sight, my shining star” He breathed out shakily yet so warm. You can feel his words deep within your core, pulling at the strings of your lust. You feel your wetness drip under you as you allowed him to touch you.

“Please, keep going” His voice was a purr loud enough just for you to hear, as your fingers met your clit again. “Yes, please yourself for me” He could feel his cock harden against the fabric of his pants, just at the sight of your lips hung open, and at the sound of your moans.

He sat behind you, placing his legs around you as he pulled you up against him. You allowed your head to loll back and your leg to rest on his, as another guttural whimper left you.

“Yes, just like this my love” He whispered as he traced the curves of your body, stopping right at the dip of your hips. His grip on you was firm, as his lips left warm kisses on your neck. His touch was so precise yet so desperate to feel as much as possible of you.

“Please, touch me” You begged between whimpers, your legs were trembling as you could feel pleasure starting to bubble up uncontrollable. It was so overwhelming, to be seen so vulnerable yet you felt like he was devouring you with his eyes, with his touch. His compliments were like fire flowing throughout your body as he consumed every cell of your body.

He hummed at your words, it was so hard to restrain himself, but looking at you so desperate for him was driving him insane.

“Just my fingers, nothing more” He offered, as he could feel his own underwear starting to soak in his precum, so needy of you.

“Y-yes” You whispered again as his fingers slowly traced your skin, until they reached your folds. You were pushed closer to him, so he could effortlessly reach your sopping pussy as he kissed the dip of your shoulder.

His naked skin was scorching against yours as he held you to him.

“So breathtaking” He murmured as his callous finger barely touched your clit, your hips buckled to meet him.. “So sensitive”

His other hand rested on your chest, kneading your breast as he wanted to worship every inch of you. He could cum in his pants just by looking at you moaning his name like a prayer.

But when he finally dipped his finger in you, that’s when he became a mess. The way your warmth enveloped his finger, swallowing it hungrily and clenching around it, made his breath itch. If he concentrated enough he could picture what you would feel around his cock, and he knew that the moment he would finally take you, he had no chance of lasting, you would milk him before he even had the chance to move.

He pumped into you relentlessly as his thumb rubbed circles on your clit. He swore he didn’t care if everyone heard you moan his name like madness. For a moment he didn’t care about anything but the way you begged him for more, the way you would tremble in his arms as he added another finger, the way you desperately chased your orgasm.

It was inexplicable what you felt as all your senses were stroked, even your tadpole was squirming begging to connect with Wyll’s as you melted in his touch.

He allowed your feelings to wash over him, the pleasure seeping and warming him like he never felt before. Not even the nights spent palming himself thinking about you, could compare to the pleasure that was exploding in you.

“C’mon my love” His own breath hitched as his eyes rolled back, your orgasm so close he swore he’d dedicate his life just to coax this feeling from you. His words chocked in his throat, your pleasure mixing with the taste of his words. “Cum for me” He breathlessly invited you to let go of everything, and allow the warmth to eat you alive, and you did.

You were hit by everything all at once, your senses all snapped as you could barely control your body. Everything spiraled, your limbs shook as you couldn’t even form a sentence, Wyll’s name was the only thing you choke through the overwhelming warmth that took over you.

You felt his cock pushing against your back, constrained in the fabric, as it twitched twice before painting his underwear white with his cum.

You slumped again against his chest, his warmth radiating through you, he didn’t let go of you. You were both panting, as you stayed like that for a moment before he glanced at his fingers.

Your cum dripped all over his pads, down to his parm, and he couldn’t help but take a taste of you.

He took his time savoring each finger like it was ambrosia, and he had to stop himself from taking more of your cum but directly from your pussy cause that was going to be reserved for the night he would make you his.

He was the one breaking the silence, still breathless. “You are going to drive me insane”

You chuckled at his words, as you turned towards him yet still in his arms. “You tell me” Your thumb traced his jaw before you’d pull him closer. Your lips were just mere inches away from his. “I want you so much that some nights i can't stop touching myself” and then you leaned in, catching his lips in a slow kiss. You could feel his smile growing as he wanted you to mold him with your body. Your chest pressed against his and your legs found his hips as you reached for one of his horns, just enough so you could steady yourself as you worshiped his lips.

“Soon, my love” He whispered as he held you to him, while sliding under your blanket.

Your naked body wrapped around him, your legs intertwined with yours as you could feel your hearts coming back to a steady rhythm while the weight of the day finally anchored to your limbs. In the newfound silence of the tent, he'd steal a few kisses as you were both finally falling asleep.

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