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art-by-char · 13 days ago

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Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

Summary:

Just some nice little smut inspired by Noctis’ Rockstarion render as well as Purple Danger Noodle’s incredible art. (Seen above, and I have permission to post this!)

Pairing: Astarion/Halsin Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2k Tags/Warnings: modern au, rock band au, band manager halsin, rockstarion, anal fingering, hand job, anal sex, desk sex, soft daddy dom Halsin, brat Astarion, blood drinking

I’d been meaning to post this for a while, but I figured today is a good day because tonight I’ll be streaming my Astarion origin run, right in time for Halsin’s romance scene! Check me out on Twitch, I’ll be streaming at 7:30 Central time. Hope to see you there!

Read it on AO3

Astarion swaggers offstage, covered in sweat and glitter, endorphins running high. He bursts into Halsin’s office only to find his manager bent over some papers with a serious expression on his face. Well, this simply won’t do at all. He pops himself onto the corner of Halsin’s desk, leather pants squeaking as he crosses his legs. Halsin glances up at him over his glasses, unamused by the rock star’s antics.

“Astarion,” he says in a low voice, a warning. A cheeky grin slides onto Astarion’s face as he nudges Halsin’s thigh with the toe of his boot. Halsin sighs, takes off his glasses, and stands to tower over Astarion.

“Another charge from the hotel. What on God’s green earth possessed you to steal the hair dryer? Did you need to rip it out of the wall?” He folds his beefy arms and fixes Astarion with a reproachful stare. Astarion uncrosses his legs and leans back on his hands, returning Halsin’s stern look with an impish one. Halsin steps between Astarion’s legs and slides a hand into his long silvery locks, giving a quick little tug. Astarion’s mouth pops open as a satisfied groan escapes his painted lips, his hips tipping forward to try to close the distance between them.

Halsin pulls him into a hard kiss, pressing his groin against the growing bulge in Astarion’s pants. He slips his tongue past the musician’s lips, the acrid taste of menthol cigarettes and tequila lingering in his mouth. He breaks the kiss, keeping their faces in close proximity.

“I thought I told you to stop smoking those awful things,” he says gruffly. “They’ll ruin your voice and then I’ll be out of a job.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy Halsin, with a talent like yours you’ll never be out of a job,” he says with a breathy chuckle, and reaches forward to palm his manager’s cock, earning a low grumble in return. Halsin tightens his hand in Astarion’s hair, who gasps and pulls his lips back into a smile, his fangs glinting in the low light of the office.

“I’ve told you not to call me that.” Halsin’s tone is threatening, but his rutting hips give him away. Astarion hooks his thigh high boots around Halsin’s waist and pulls him closer.

“So do something about it, daddy,” Astarion taunts, and with a single motion Halsin tears through Astarion’s pants, the leather ripping easily at the seams. The rock star isn’t wearing any underwear, most likely because he knew he was going to get lucky one way or another. His cock springs forth, pink bulbous tip already leaking with a drop of precum. Halsin takes it in his hand and swipes his thumb over the slit, gathering the liquid onto his finger.

“Open,” he commands and Astarion obeys instinctively, taking his thumb into his mouth and sucking ferociously. The taste of himself dances over his tongue and he looks up at Halsin with round coquettish eyes. Halsin returns the look, heavy lidded, his breath stuttering as Astarion’s tongue swirls around his thumb. With his other hand, he quickly undoes his belt, pulling out his own girthy cock and letting it land with a thump on the desk. When Astarion sees it, his moan vibrates through Halsin’s hand.

Halsin curls his fingers around Astarion’s jaw and pulls him forward so his lips can press against the pale elf’s ear.

“Little one, how much of my cock do you think you’ll be able to take tonight? A third? Half?” he hums in a low tone, and Astarion shudders.

“All of it, please,” he whimpers as he pops Halsin’s thumb out of his mouth, a trail of saliva still connected to his lips. Halsin utters a low and dangerous chuckle, taking his slick thumb and pressing it to Astarion’s puckering rim.

“Will you let me take the time to stretch you out properly? You have not been known for your patience, historically.” He pushes his thumb past his entrance and Astarion rewards him with a needy whine.

“Yes, please, I’ll be patient,” he says through gasping breaths, “just please don’t stop.” He lets his vinyl jacket slide off his arms and latches his hands onto the back of Halsin’s neck to brace himself.

Continuing to work his thumb inside Astarion, Halsin’s hand fumbles with his desk drawer, pulling out a jar of coconut oil. He yanks one of Astarion’s hands from his neck and presses the jar into his palm.

“Be good and open it for me, would you, love?” He grunts, focusing his energy on twisting and pumping his thumb. Astarion opens the jar eagerly, holding it out for Halsin to scoop it with his unoccupied hand. The sweet smell he now associates with fucking his manager wafts up to his nose and his cock twitches in response.

“Coming around on the coconut oil, are you?” Halsin laughs, and Astarion makes a failed attempt to pout.

“You fucking hippie,” he gasps, his voice completely overtaken by desire. Halsin takes a generous chunk of the white substance and it quickly melts on his warm fingers. He pulls out his thumb and replaces it with two oiled digits and Astarion drops the jar somewhere on the carpeted floor.

“That better not have broken, my Star,” Halsin warns as Astarion pushes himself further down onto his thick fingers. He roughly grabs the vampire’s pointed chin, holding it tight between his forefingers and the thumb that had just been inside him. “Understood? I’d rather not have to punish you for something so trivial.” A wide grin breaks out across Astarion’s lips.

“I promise, Daddy Halsin, when you punish me it will be for a very good reason,” he replies wickedly, running his tongue across the tip of his fangs. Halsin let out a primal growl before silencing him with another fierce kiss. He roughly thrusts his fingers into Astarion, putting the weight of his hips behind it. Halsin’s throbbing cock skids across the glossy surface of the desk, aching to be inside his obstinate charge. He scissors his fingers hastily and Astarion cries into his lips, hooking his heels into the soft flesh of Halsin’s ass.

“Well then why don’t you put those pretty little lips to good use before you give me one?” Halsin growls, pulling his fingers out and replacing them with the tip of his cock. He bares his neck to Astarion whose tongue darts over his lips hungrily. “Kissing and licking only, you must earn the right to bite,” he clarifies and Astarion lets out an exasperated whine that gets quickly cut off by Halsin pushing into him.

“Fuck, Astarion,” he groans as the musician licks the sweat from his neck. “You’re so tight, are you sure you can take it?”

“Yes, please,” he says on a breathy moan, his fingers coiling into Halsin’s auburn hair. “I need to feel you, I need to taste you, please, I can take it, I promise, I’ll be so good for you.”

Halsin laughs quietly; he has such a way with lyrics, and yet it’s still so easy to reduce him to a babbling mess. He slides in a little deeper, Astarion panting and squeezing his eyes shut. Halsin grabs his chin again and brings the musician’s gaze to him.

“Look at me, my Star, look at me and breathe,” he coos gently and Astarion’s wet eyes lock onto Halsin’s face. He kisses him again, languid and slow this time, and pushes in a little further. “That’s my good boy, taking me so well.” Halsin strokes Astarion’s neglected cock, earning a stuttered whimper in response. His hips cant into Halsin’s hand, desire and need driving him forward.

“You’re almost there,” Halsin continues his tender coaxing, “and you feel so good, my Star.” His forehead falls onto Astarion’s shoulder, the spice from his cologne overtaking his senses. He’s trying to control his speed, but his head grows cloudy with the rocker’s heady scent and he pushes a little too fast. Astarion cries out in response and Halsin instinctively pulls out slightly.

“No, please don’t stop,” Astarion mewls pathetically, “I can take it, I need you inside me, please Halsin.”

“So hungry,” Halsin laughs, “but for my cock or my blood, I wonder?” Astarion clings to his hair and tightens his legs, pulling Halsin in completely until he bottoms out. They both groan loudly, their voices mixing together in a symphony of hedonistic desire.

“Hnng, such a good boy,” Halsin wheezes and tilts his head, exposing his neck. “My good boy has earned his reward.” Astarion sinks his fangs into Halsin’s thick jugular and drinks deeply, his sweet blood flooding his mouth and rushing directly to his cock. He grabs onto the collar of Halsin’s button down, his breaths coming in short stuttered puffs with each thrust of Halsin’s cock. Halsin growls wordlessly into Astarion’s ear, his lips brushing against the tip. Astarion unlatches from Halsin’s neck, blood dripping down his front and splashing onto his chest, seeping easily through his mesh shirt.

“Must you always leave a mess wherever you go?” Halsin grumbles and Astarion lasciviously licks blood off his fingers.

“But you’ll put up with it for this tight little hole,” he responds with a cheeky grin, the recent blood he drank making him bold. Halsin roughly pulls out of him and grabs the leather collar around his neck, pulling him closer.

“What was that about me punishing you for a good reason?” he hisses, and before Astarion can respond the burly elf has him flipped around and bent over the desk, his rock hard cock caught between the smooth mahogany and the leather strap across his stomach. Halsin grabs hold of Astarion’s silver locks and pulls his head up as he continues fucking him from behind.

“You’ll clean up after yourself, won’t you little Star? Say ‘Yes, Daddy Halsin.’” Halsin’s voice is gruff and stuttered, and Astarion can tell he’s getting close. The friction from Halsin’s thrusts pushing his cock into the desk is bringing Astarion to the precipice as well.

“I thought you didn’t like it when I called you that,” Astarion rasps, his words losing some of their sharp edge given how strangled they are. Halsin pulls harder on Astarion’s hair and the rock star gasps out a laugh.

“Yes, Daddy Halsin,” he huffs, and his compliance earns him Halsin’s hand on his cock. He groans with relief, pushing his hips back into his manager’s while also thrusting into his hand.

“My beautiful Star,” he grunts into Astarion's shoulder, his thrusts losing pace and growing erratic. Astarion lets his head fall back, breathing heavy, losing himself in the sensations. Halsin pumps his hand vigorously and moans loudly when Astarion comes, his seed spilling over his fingers and dripping down onto the desk. A few more rough thrusts and Halsin's coming too, groaning and feeling Astarion clench around his pulsing cock.

The two of them still, panting and coming down off their sex-induced high. Halsin kisses Astarion’s shoulder and pulls out, stepping back to survey the damage. He has blood splattered across his collar and down his arm, sweat and semen mix together in the crumpled mess of papers on the desk. Astarion leans forward on his hands, giggling.

Halsin tucks his softening cock back into his pants and straightens his bloodied shirt.

“Well now,” he says in a much more genial tone, “you can get started on cleaning up all of this, and I think I'll go take a shower.” Astarion whips around, fixing Halsin with a shocked glare.

“There is no way in hell am I cleaning up this mess,” he pouts, and Halsin hooks a finger through the o-ring on Astarion's collar, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.

“You will, little Star, if you don't want the hotel damages to come out of your bottom line,” he murmurs, reaching around and giving Astarion’s bare ass cheek a tight squeeze. “But I suppose you've earned the right to clean yourself up first.” He tugs on Astarion's collar and the musician stumbles forward, his lips curling into a smile as Halsin leads him to the shower in the adjacent room.

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art-by-char · 13 days ago

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Office Hours: Masterlist

Pairing: Astarion/Named f!Tav

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: enemies to lovers, rough sex, emotional manipulation, angst with a happy ending, an absurd amount of smut with some fluff, biting/blood drinking, choking, collaring, praise kink, daddy kink, modern with magic, university au, fat tav. full list on ao3.

Summary:

Rosalind, a classical theatre professor at Baldur's Gate University, finds herself inexplicably drawn to the infuriating arrogance of Dr. Ancunín in the English department. But she can't deny the thrill that goes down her spine every time he peers over his glasses at her, and she absolutely hates the way it makes her feel. Every sharp tug in her hair, every possessive grab, every bite in her neck marking her as belonging to him... Why does she find this so hot? She should be horrified by this behavior, shouldn't she? Read as Rosalind navigates her ever complicated relationship with Professor Astarion and - even moreso - her complicated relationship to her own desire.

Read it on AO3

(updated through chapter 12)

Office Hours playlist on Spotify

Read it on Tumblr:

you can rent the space inside my mind

it's so easy to bite with your hands pinned

I want this like a cigarette

caught that fever, I shouldn't be here

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Office Hours tag on my page ~ OH Fanart

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art-by-char · 13 days ago

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Yule

Summary:

While snuggling by the Yule fire, you forget just how sensitive elf ears can be.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 2.2k Tags/Warnings: post-game spoilers, cunnilingus, blood drinking, p in v sex, spawn!Astarion, soft!Astarion, fluff and smut, Astarion deserves to be bitten too

Read it on AO3.

Enough people said they'd still be interested in reading holiday-related fics even after the holidays, so here you go! Huge shout-outs to Idylla for their incredible art used in the banner. Their modern!Astarion absolutely ruins me.

Midwinter Nights: Yule | Christmas | New Year's Eve

Astarion curled against you as the Yule fire burned low in the hearth. You knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake all night, despite his insistence to the contrary. It amused you even more because, as an elf, he didn’t really need to sleep. But he had grown so accustomed to it at this point, snuggling up with you each night as you got your mandatory eight hours, it was a harder habit to break.

You had only just put the most recent batch of cookies in the oven, but you were a little concerned for what would happen when you needed to take them out. Astarion was much like a cat in that way; if he climbed on top of you, it was a crime to disturb him. You could lay there forever, pinned beneath his weight, and you’d thank the gods for it.

You peered down at him, sleeping so peacefully. He almost looked like a cat, pointy ears occasionally flicking at the warm air that emanated from the fire. You could practically see his tail swishing contentedly. Ever since killing Cazador and reclaiming his freedom, he’d been so drawn to creature comforts, looking for softness and indulgence in all he could find.

You ran your fingers through his white curls, scratching his scalp absentmindedly. He shifted in his sleep, subconscious nudging him into your touch. You would sit here all night if you could, nails dancing over his pale skin while he slept soundly. You knew that eventually your timer would go off and you would need to take this latest batch of cookies out. But for now, at least, you could just enjoy having him pressed up against your side.

You stared into the fire as your hand wandered, gently stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck. You marveled at how much had changed in these past few months. Karlach and Wyll ventured to Avernus to fight on the front lines of the Blood War, and while you missed them, you knew you were only a ritual away from seeing them at the House of Hope. Gale had gone back to continue his studies in Waterdeep, and Lae’zel found herself living a surprising life of domestic bliss with Shadowheart, newly reunited with her parents. You haven’t heard much from Halsin, Jaheira, or Minsc, but you were certain that they were finding respite wherever they were.

As you’re getting lost in your thoughts, you stopped paying attention to where your hand flitted across Astarion’s skin; that is, until you heard a breathy moan escape his lips. You looked down and realized that you were running the tip of your pointer around the shell of his ear. You pulled away suddenly, embarrassed as you realized you were basically doing the elf equivalent of teasing his nipples. He whined at the sudden loss of contact, and you sat frozen, unsure if he was awake or not.

He stirred, legs squirming against a definitive bulge growing in his loose pants. He sat up and blinked sleepily, gears turning as he put together where he was. He turned to you and suddenly his eyes focused, pupils wide like a cat focused on its prey.

“If you wanted something, you could’ve just asked, you know,” he said in a low purr, and you could feel yourself clench in response to the fire his words stoked deep in your core.

“Sorry love, it was an accident,” you whispered, trying to sound cool but the crack in your voice gave you away.

“Accident or no, you’ve made your bed, so I hope you’re ready to lie in it,” he said with a grin, fangs glinting in the firelight. He launched himself onto you, kissing you roughly as he tangled his hands in your hair. You tried to regain your breath as you kissed him back, your hands scrambling for purchase on his clean linen shirt. Your body bent back with the weight of his as he shifted on top of you, prying your legs open with his knee. An unseemly moan escaped your lips as he pressed his hardness right up to the apex of your thighs. You ran your fingers through his hair, though whether it was to regain control or just hang on for dear life, you couldn’t tell.

Between the heat radiating from the fire, the slight delirium from staying up all night, and the way that your arousal for this man made your head swim, you could barely think straight. He continued to roll his hips into you obscenely, and you could feel the telltale dampness seeping into your small clothes. You spread your legs a little wider, trying to feel that delicious friction through the several layers of fabric that separated you.

You broke the kiss to take in a gulp of air, beginning to feel a bit lightheaded. His lips migrated to your neck, flicking the tip of his tongue along the puncture wound that had only recently closed up. A shudder surged through your body at the sensation and you squirmed involuntarily, your body urging you closer to his. You rolled your head away from him, presenting your neck as a silent offering as you had so many times before. He needed no further invitation and sunk his teeth into the sensitive flesh, your simultaneous groans of pleasure mingling together in your ears. You knew you were courting danger by letting him bite when you were already woozy, but it was worth the risk for the good it did you both. He always became a little more powerful, a little more dominant right after drinking your blood; for you, the feeling of him siphoning just a little of your life force away gave you an unmatched feeling of ecstasy.

He detached himself from your neck and looked down at you, panting. The sight of him post-feeding always sent you into a frenzy. His cheeks and ears uncharacteristically flushed, his bloody lips in a sedate half-smile, hair a tousled mess, and a wild look in his eyes like he was ready to devour you. You could only imagine what he saw in return; your hair splayed out beneath you, eyes glassy, mouth open in a suspended moan as blood trickled down your neck.

He ran a hand down the front of your blouse and you arched your back to meet his touch. He was still pressed between your legs, your knees hooked around his waist. He ran a finger along the waistband of your pants, causing you to whine needily.

“Tell me what it is you want, pet,” he purred, the predatory cat out in full force. Your hips bucked up against him as you grasped at the rug beneath you. He looked so gorgeous in the orangey firelight, his skin soft and glowy. You pawed wantonly at the hem of his shirt, any semblance of speech leaving your body. He grabbed your flailing wrists and pinned them above your head, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.

“Your words, love. Tell me what you want,” he growled, a little more forcefully than before, eliciting another desperate mewl.

“Ah- I.. Astarion,” you pled with him and he grinned, fangs pressing into your lips.

“Yes?” The word was a breathless whisper. He looked down the length of his nose at you, crimson eyes piercing into you.

“I want you to taste me,” you squeaked out, writhing beneath the hard length of his body. He pressed his lips to your ear just as he pressed his erection into your mound.

“Good girl,” he hissed, and pushed off your chest to slink downward to your hips. He grabbed your waistband and slid your pants down over your ass, dragging his cool hands across your heated skin. He pressed his lips into your hip and you arched into him, yearning to feel him on every inch of you. Your skin prickled from the heat of the fire, his contrasting touch making you shiver.

He traveled downward, each kiss pulling a new and more debaucherous sound from your throat. His lips hovered above yours and he relished in making you twitch with need. After a second of teasing that felt like an eternity, he swiped his tongue along your slit and you groaned in relief. He dug his fingers into your thighs as he gently lapped at your folds, making you feel more heated with each pass. He spread your lips apart with his dexterous fingers, tracing lazy shapes with the tip of his tongue.

Your fingers curled into his hair once more, hoping to regain control of your cantering hips. He pushed his tongue deeper into you and your breath grew ragged, your hips begging to fully fuck his face. He relented to your control, letting you grind on his lips and tongue to chase your own satisfaction. Your cries grew in tandem with the pressure that mounted in your core, and this time when your hands wandered to stroke his ears, it was intentional. He moaned into your cunt, a deep, primal sound that sent vibrations directly to your clit, sending you over the edge. He buried his face into you as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, thighs squeezing around his head.

He pulled away once the pulses had subsided and you delighted to see his disheveled face, your juices reflecting in the firelight. He roughly pulled you up onto his lap, pulling your still sensitive swell down hard onto his erection. You moaned into his lips, sharing the taste of you with him.

“You saucy little minx,” he growled even as you could feel his smile through the kiss. Your fingers fumbled at his waistband, desperate to free him and feel him inside you. He peeled your blouse over the top of his head just as you released his cock from his trousers, tip already glistening with precum. Your breath hitched at the sight of it, your pussy already aching to be filled.

The length of his cock teased your folds, and he cupped one of your breasts in his hand, the pad of his thumb skating over the pert nipple. You threw your head back, raising your tits up with a heaving breath just so he could latch on with his mouth, suckling gently. Your arms around his neck, you danced your fingers close to his ear, teasing him as much as you were asking him for more. He pulled off your nipple with a pop and stared red hot daggers into you.

“Careful love. Mess with the cat and get the claws,” he warned in a low and dangerous whisper. He raised your hips up and pulled you down in one fell stroke onto his stiffened cock. The cry he tore out of you was your most obscene yet, but you were already so wet and hungry for him that you slid down to his base without resistance.

You began to ride his dick, your knees pressing against the floor as he stretched you out with every thrust. Now it was his turn to toss his head back, leaving his pale throat open and vulnerable. You sunk your teeth into the cold flesh, your dull human incisors not actually piercing skin, but eliciting a delicious groan from him nonetheless. He kept his hands squarely on your hips as you bounced up and down, relishing the slide of him along your inner walls.

You wanted to see him lose himself in you. You wanted him to come undone like you were. You needed more of those breathy moans in your ear as he unleashed the predator within.

You nipped at his earlobe.

Almost as though an external force possessed his body, he slammed you down onto your back without pulling out of you. He pushed your knees up to your ears and pounded into you forcefully, the edge of your second orgasm rapidly approaching. Your tits bounced with the force of his thrusts, and it took everything in your power to keep your eyes open so you could watch him unravel above you. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his red eyes looked down on you, positively feral. You could see his fangs through the soft o-shape his mouth formed as he came, his orgasm sending you crashing into yours. You could still feel his cock throbbing inside you with each burst of his seed even as your vision slowly faded into black.

You awoke a few moments later curled up on some pillows and a cool washcloth laid across your forehead. Next to you was a glass of water which you gulped down eagerly.

Astarion came back into the room, face still looking deliciously flushed and bitten, with a small plate of cookies. He kneeled down next to you and held one up to your lips, and you accepted the snack without hesitation. He pulled the washcloth from your forehead and kissed your cool damp skin, his lips almost warm in comparison.

“Love, you can't scare me like that. I thought I fucked you into a coma. If you're feeling unwell, say something,” he said, red eyes full of concern. You wave it off with a shrug.

“What can I say? Maybe I like messing with the cat,” you respond with a giggle as you bite down on your cookie, teeth bared playfully.

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art-by-char · 13 days ago

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Christmas

Summary:

Sleeping in your childhood bedroom with your parents on the other side of the wall is probably the worst place to fool around. Bummer that you and Astarion struggle to keep your hands off each other.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 1.6k Tags/Warnings: more smut than fluff, modern au, christmas smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, keep it the fuck down

Read it on AO3.

Thank you again to Idylla for letting me use their amazing art for the banner! Part 2 of 3(?) of Midwinter Nights! Definitely absolutely not based on a true story.

Midwinter Nights: Yule | Christmas | New Year's Eve

It's not that you were nervous to introduce him to your parents, but you certainly weren't free of anxiety.

But the second he turned on that Astarion charm, relief rushed your body. They were absolutely enamored with him, your dad almost alarmingly so. You had never seen him laugh louder at someone’s jokes, clearly vying to impress your partner.

He looked so cute helping your mom trim the tree, carefully placing ornaments according to her strict instruction. He indulged her desire to spread family gossip halfway through her second glass of wine. He would occasionally throw a smile towards where you were curled up in a cushy chair with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, flashing a cheeky hint of fang for your benefit. Your parents don't need to know about that yet.

You finally bade your parents goodnight and retreated to your old bedroom. They had converted it into a guest room long ago, but there were still hints of your childhood in it. The stuffed animals that adorned the bed, the old dresses hanging in the closet.

You turned out the lights and slipped under the covers next to Astarion, rubbing your cold feet against his even colder legs. You turned over to face him, basking in the sight of his skin glowing beneath the twinkling fairy lights.

“My parents really like you,” you said in a whisper, cognizant of them possibly hearing you on the other side of the wall. He rested a hand on the slope of your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly.

“Don't sound so surprised, darling,” he chuckled. “You say it as though I don't know how to behave.” He punctuated the statement with a rakish grin, really driving home the point.

“Right, because when I think ‘Astarion’ my first thought is ‘someone you can take home to mother.’”

“I'm certain I have no idea what you mean,” he said, and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead. You smiled and burrowed into his chest, excited to fall asleep and for morning to come.

You tilt your head up for one more goodnight kiss. He obliges, and his lips taste sweet, the hot chocolate still lingering. Your breath catches as he presses into your lower back with his hand, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. You snake your hands up around his neck, lightly running your fingers through his soft silvery curls.

If you were smart, you would have broken the kiss and turned over to go to sleep. Lying in your childhood bedroom with your extremely attractive vampire lover while your parents slept on the other side of the very thin wall was not the time or place to start anything.

But you are not a smart woman.

You pressed your body into his and relished in the breathy groan that escaped his lips. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, the taste of desperation and heat flooding your senses. You clawed at his back and neck, chasing every inch of his body and searching for relief from that mounting pressure in your belly. He slid his hand down your ass and hooked your leg around his waist. Beyond your control, a small voiced moan made its way out of your throat.

“Shhhhh!” He hushed you before trapping your lips into another kiss, effectively silencing you. You tried to swallow back your breaths, keeping them light and shallow to prevent any more noise from leaving your body. It proved harder when he caught your lower lip between his teeth, his fangs pricking the sensitive flesh without actually piercing any skin.

Your contrasting desires to satiate your hunger for him while also staying quiet enough to not be overheard were at war with one another. You pulled him on top of you with the leg around his waist and he drove his hips into yours, giving you the slightest hint of his growing arousal. You inhaled a ragged breath in between increasingly ravenous kisses, your hands desperately searching for more of him and his touch.

The mounting heat and pressure between your legs was starting to overwhelm you and you shifted your focus onto controlling your increasingly needy mewling. You buried your face in the crook of his neck in the hopes that it might absorb some of the sound. He didn’t make it any easier as he continued to slide his half-hard erection along your cunt, the two thin layers of fabric between you dampening with every passing minute. You clamped your teeth down onto the skin there, not biting so much attempting to use his shoulder as a gag. This backfired as the second your teeth made contact, he let out a sharp hiss as his hips bucked, setting off another groan that died in your throat.

Your knees fell open further and you could feel the outline of his length press into your folds. You tightened your grip on his shoulders, wincing as you tried to suppress the obscene noises threatening to escape. But you ached for more, the need for the relief his touch provided was starting to consume you. You grabbed the back of his head, bringing his ear in contact with your lips.

“Please touch me, quickly,” you begged in a sharp whisper, unconcerned with how pathetic you sounded. He pulled back and his red eyes glinted with mischief, an impish grin spreading across his lips.

“All right, but not a sound, understood?” he purred, and you clamped your lips shut as you nodded impatiently.

His touch was cool he trailed it down your front, sending a shiver through you. He slid his palm flat against your pubic bone, fingertips barely touching the top of your slit. Your mouth dropped open but you managed to maintain your silence even as your hips jerked into his hand. His opposite hand snaked behind your neck and he crushed your lips into his once again, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip. He dipped a finger between your folds and you could feel his lips curl up into a smile.

“Darling, is this just from me?” He clicked his tongue as he lazily swept his finger up and down your slick. “So eager.” You couldn’t respond, you only clenched your teeth as your hips cantered into his touch. His cool digit between your hot lips sent a shudder rippling through your body.

“You love it when I touch you like this,” he purred, and you immediately caught on to what he was doing. You would not last long with him crooning into your ear, never mind having an easy time keeping your voice down. His lips brushing along your ear made your breaths come high and hot, and you tightened your fingers in his hair.

“Look at you, coming undone,” he continued, unphased by the pain from you tugging on his hair. He gently circled your clit, just enough to tease you and not nearly enough to satisfy. You thrusted into his hand, aching for relief.

“You want it so badly, little pup.” You could feel the pet name on his breath tickling your ear and you swallowed the whine threatening to emerge. “You want to scream my name, but you can’t.” He slid a finger inside you, moving it excruciatingly slowly. You bit down on your knuckle as you tried to fuck yourself on his fingers, begging for more. You’re so rarely this quiet and you can hear the squelch of his fingers as they pumped inside you, and the extra sensory element made you all the more wild.

“If I give you what you want,” he looked down his nose at you and you could see the arousal in his eyes, “will you need me to make you stay quiet?” He was beginning to pant, too, his heaving chest rhythmically pressing into yours. You kept your lips closed tight as you nodded in desperation. He shifted his weight, clamping his free hand over your mouth and pressing your thigh up with his knee so he could get a better angle into your cunt.

He began to properly thrust his fingers into you, the crook of his thumb hitting your clit with every downstroke. His hand muffled your cries as they grew increasingly needy. You rocked into him and the bed began to emit a tiny steady creak. But you were so past the point of caring, all you needed was for him to give you your release.

“That's a good girl, let go, love,” he whispered roughly into your ear. His praise and encouragement were enough to send you over the edge, your hips rutting into his hand as your cunt clenched around his fingers. He rode out the waves of your orgasm with you, and you can feel his ragged breath on your cheek.

The two of you slowed, and before he even took his fingers out of you you were both listening intently for any sign of movement on the other side of the wall. When you deemed it appropriately quiet, you fell into a fit of giggles. Astarion pulled his hand out of you and dropped his forehead into your neck, shaking with silent laughter.

“That's a dangerous game you're playing, Ancunín,” you whispered, breathing not yet returned to normal.

“You were the one begging, you needy little thing,” he responded with a smirk, barely visible in the low light. You playfully shoved him off you and rolled onto your side, snuggling your back into him. He wrapped his arm around your waist, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. You closed your eyes, praying there wouldn't be any awkward conversations at breakfast.

112 notes · View notes

art-by-char · 13 days ago

Text

New Year's Eve

Summary:

You don't really want to go to Shadowheart's New Year's Eve party, but you meet someone who might make things a little more interesting.

Pairing: Astarion/gn!Reader (femme leaning) Rating: T Word Count: 3.7k Tags: fluff, first kiss, new year's eve, flirting, sexual tension, pool shenanigans (the game, not like swimming)

Read it on AO3.

Final part (maybe) of Midwinter Nights! I really wanted to get this out actually on NYE, but I spent too much time playing Baldur's Gate. Oops. Once again, my beautiful banner Astarion was made by Idylla.

Midwinter Nights: Yule | Christmas | New Year's Eve

You're not really one for parties. There are too many strangers in too small of a space listening to music that's too loud while eating food that's too salty. But Shadowheart was insistent, even helping you dress for the occasion.

She bent over you, applying some glittery eyeshadow that fell onto your cheeks with every stroke of her brush. Her long silvery ponytail dangled over her shoulder, the tip of it tickling your hands resting in your lap.

“Stop flinching!” she snapped, and you clenched your hands to force yourself still. You weren't accustomed to wearing much makeup at all, save maybe a little smokey eyeliner and lipstick. But you really hated having things near your eyes. Shadowheart knew this, and she promised to be as gentle as possible. She pulled up your eyebrow to smooth out her canvas.

When she pulled out a tool that could have easily been a medieval torture device, you scooted back in her vanity chair and held your hands up in defense. She rolled her eyes at your theatrics.

“This is the alternative to mascara, it's going to be one or the other,” she huffed at you. “It won't hurt at all, so long as you stay still.” Still wary of the metal contraption, you closed your eyes, taking a breath to settle your jumpy nerves.

She pressed the cool curved metal to your eyelid and you managed to still your instinct to pull back. She clamped the contraption down on your eyelashes and you held your breath to keep yourself from moving. You managed to stay frozen while she curled the lashes of your other eye, and when she finally pulled away you let out a puff of air.

“Okay, now lashes,” she said as she applied a thin layer of glue to a spidery false eyelash.

“Woah woah woah, I thought that was it. What the hell is that?” You leaned away from it like she was holding an actual tarantula. She flicked up her cold green eyes to meet yours, unamused by your antics.

“You said no mascara, so this is necessary. Don't worry, nothing will get in your eye, this just sits on top.” She waved the lash like she was shaking water off it, and you followed it with your eyes uneasily.

“Why is this so important to you?” you muttered under your breath, resuming your statuesque stillness. You heard Shadowheart release an impatient breath.

“I just want to make you look pretty, is that so much to ask? Well, prettier than usual, at least.” You could hear the smile in her voice. The least you could do is indulge her a little bit, you supposed. Shadowheart didn't have many luxuries growing up in such a strict orphanage. She wasn't allowed to keep any dolls, so letting her play dress up with you now was a small price to pay for her delight.

“Besides,” her voice took on a musical quality, “there’s going to be someone there tonight that I want you to meet.” You stifled a groan. Shadowheart had become borderline insufferable since she and Karlach started dating. The two of them were very cute together, almost sickenly so, stealing touches whenever they thought they could get away with it. You knew that she just wanted you to be happy, but you still hadn’t quite recovered from the last time she set you up with someone.

“This isn’t going to be like that awful double date with Gale, right?” you asked with trepidation. She smirked as she stepped back, admiring her work.

“No, trust me, I learned my lesson on that one. In fact, these two couldn’t be more different, I promise.” She tapped your knee, signaling you to turn back to the vanity mirror to see the final look. For a moment, you were actually at a loss for words. The silvery shimmer on your eyelids reflected every color of the rainbow, the sparkles dancing every time you moved your head. The sharp lines of the deep plum color on your lips made them look pouty and kissable. Your hair cascaded down your shoulder, pinned back with little star and moon shaped trinkets. She had put you in a dress that you were certain would make you look like a clown, but the way the rose gold sequins and sweetheart neckline hugged your curves evoked an almost ethereal quality.

“So?” Shadowheart made eye contact with you in the mirror, and you could see her bouncing with excitement.

“Shadowheart, I look amazing!” you breathed, still marveling that a little styling could change this much.

“I know,” she said in her charmingly self-satisfied way. She planted a kiss on the top of your head and bounded across the room to her dresser, pulling a necklace off the jewelry tree sitting on top.

“Hair,” she commanded, and you carefully held up your hair for her to clasp it around your neck. “And one final touch,” she added, and said the incantation for minor illusion, making everything on you sparkle just a little bit more. She put her hands on your shoulders and pressed her cheek to yours, still looking at your reflection in the mirror.

“You know, I did such a good job that you’ll have your pick of potential partners,” she grinned, “but I think I know who you’ll choose.”

~~~

The temporary confidence boost brought on by seeing your reflection had worn off and the social anxiety began to creep in. Shadowheart sashayed over to you and pressed a wine glass into your hand.

“I don't think he's here yet, but drink this, loosen up a bit,” she said with a conspiratorial smile. You welcomed having something to do with your hands as your eyes scanned the room, looking for a comforting face. Unfortunately your eyes locked with Gale, who smiled and waved.

“Sorry, gotta run,” Shadowheart said and was gone before you could protest. Gale wandered toward you and politeness locked your legs in place.

“Hello again,” he greeted cheerily, if not a bit awkwardly. You gave him a strained smile, clutching your glass a little tighter.

“Hi Gale, it's good to see you,” you said, hoping the lie wasn't too evident. You stood together in silence for a moment, shuffling your feet uncomfortably.

“Read anything interesting lately? I'm currently several chapters into the most fascinating tome on the intricacies of the Peloponnesian War by the Greek historian Thucydides. He does something really remarkable, something that only a handful of historians even think to do, by connecting the famines around that time with the internal conflicts that arose. He manages to capture the desperation that forced them into…”

It amazed you how much he could speak without taking a breath. Despite starting with a question, he hadn't paused long enough for you to answer. You sipped the wine as he continued to ramble, eyes darting around for an escape. Your gaze landed on a beautiful young man with ivory skin and silvery hair, perfectly windswept. Your breath caught in your throat a little just looking at him. He was dressed impeccably, a blue and purple brocade vest with gold closures over a dusky lavender cashmere turtleneck that hugged his lithe figure. His legs were long and lean, and he stood with a permanently crooked gait, giving an aloof and casual air.

He caught your eye and flashed a disarming grin. His gaze shifted to Gale, who had moved on to comparing The History of the Peloponnesian War to Plato’s Republic, then back to you. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question, to which you nodded almost imperceptibly. He chuckled and sauntered over.

“Gale, darling, I’m afraid our new friend here will soon lose her hearing the way you’re talking her ear off,” he said in a melodic voice, slinging an arm around Gale’s shoulder. Gale started and turned toward the handsome stranger.

“Oh, Astarion, I didn’t see you there.” He turned to look back at you, appropriately chagrined. “My apologies, once I get started it can be hard for me to stop. I’ll stop monopolizing your presence and let you mingle.” And with that, he was off. You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“Thank you, I didn’t know how to make him stop,” you said with relief, your posture visibly relaxing.

“He has a tendency to do that,” he chuckled, “you learn how to manage him after a time.”

“I appreciate it all the same,” you responded, cheeks beginning to redden. His gaze was piercing, almost as if he could see into you.

“You know, I thought I had already met everyone worth knowing around here, but evidently I was wrong.” He held out a slender hand for you to take, and you shivered slightly when you felt how icy it was. “Astarion, though I suppose Gale let that fact slip already.”

You caught a glimpse of Karlach across the room, who noticed you talking to Astarion and excitedly batted Shadowheart’s shoulder. She turned and gave you a big smile, mouthing “That's him!” while pointing at Astarion’s back. Her lack of subtlety made you smile.

“Yeah, I think our generous host wanted us to meet,” you said with a little nod, and he looked over his shoulder at Karlach and Shadowheart, who very unconvincingly pretended to be deep in conversation.

“Well how lucky for us that we found each other, then,” he said in a low breath, and you felt your subconscious pulling you toward him, the magnetic force between you palpable. You coughed and stepped away, head spinning slightly from the rush. You nervously took a sip of your wine.

“Are you enjoying that?” he asked, wrinkling his nose at the glass. You looked down at it, perplexed. You didn't really know much about alcohol at all, you just accepted whatever Shadowheart gave to you.

“It's fine, I guess,” you said, shrugging noncommittally. He took it from you and bent down to put it on the table behind you. He brushed against you slightly as he did, and that heady feeling came back. The scent of his cologne washed over you, your body reacting to the smell like a pheromone. You blinked at him as he straightened up.

“You smell… good,” you stammered incoherently.

“Aren't you just the sweetest?” he said with a jaunty smile. “Here, let me get you something better than that foul wine.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you over to an old-fashioned metal drink cart. Shadowheart would get something like that for a party.

“Any requests?” He surveyed the selection, lithe fingers dancing over the labels.

“I don't drink much, so whatever you think is good,” you said, looking up at him with your big doe eyes. He smiled, admiring just how cute you looked, your silky hair curling around your pretty neck. He was suspicious of your innocent act, convinced that there was more to you than you led on. He took two shot glasses from the lower tray and poured a deep red liquor.

“Try this, let me know what you think,” he said, handing you one of the shot glasses. He held his out to you, making very deliberate eye contact, waiting for you to clink. You locked eyes with him and his undead heart skipped a beat. You both downed the shot while maintaining eye contact. When you pulled the glass away from your lips, a delectable drop of the blood red liquid remained.

Astarion reached out and swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, his touch like an electric shock. He smirked as he licked the remnant of the liquor that he stole from your lip. He must've known what he was doing to your insides, and it looked like he was enjoying watching you squirm.

“How does that taste?” he murmured, tongue lingering on the st. Your throat was dry despite the liquor still coating the inside of your mouth.

“Good,” you croaked with a nod. “I like it.”

“Good,” he repeated your word, somehow making it sound so much more lascivious. He grabbed two long flutes and filled them with sparkling wine. He then topped them off with the sweet liquor, and you watched the red liquid curling through the gold, undulating like an exotic dancer. He swirled the glasses until the entire drink had taken on a bright crimson.

“Cheers,” he said, holding out the glass. You tapped your glass to his, lost once more in his intense eye contact. You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, mesmerized by the smooth porcelain of his skin. He noticed you staring and he grinned, causing you to suddenly look away as you felt your cheeks reddening.

In that moment Karlach sidled up to you, saving you from yourself. She threw her arm around your neck and addressed Astarion.

“Hey, Fangs, I hear you're pretty good at pool. Wyll and I are the undefeated champs right now, think you and Sparkles here can take us?”

Fangs?

“Well, I do rather enjoy seeing Wyll’s cry, so yes, I think we can. What do you think?” He hit you again with that penetrating gaze of his, and you felt yourself buckle under the weight of Karlach’s arm.

“Sure,” you said meekly, still feeling Astarion's stare. Karlach pumped her fist in victory and ran off to grab Wyll. Astarion pressed his hand into your lower back in the direction of the pool table.

“Don't worry if you don't know how to play, darling, I'll play well enough for the both of us,” he whispered into your ear, and his breath tickled your love. You swallowed thickly and allowed yourself to be guided over to the table.

Wyll was already there, chalking up his cue. You had met him once or twice in passing, but never spent much time in each other's presence. You waved shyly and he replied with a polite nod.

“Ahh, billiards,” Wyll said wistfully. “Such an elegant game.”

“Any game where I get to smack a bunch of balls with a stick is the game for me,” Karlach cackled, clearly proud of herself. Wyll rolled his eyes as he set up the table and you giggled quietly.

“We’ll go first to give you two a little advantage,” Karlach smirked, and sent the cue ball flying into the rack.

“Ladies first,” Astarion handed you a pool cue and bowed, gesturing at the table. Your eyes scanned for the best shot. Right as you found it, Astarion came up close behind you, his lips centimeters away from your ear.

“Go for the 3 ball into the corner pocket,” he breathed, putting his arms around you to help you aim the cue. Your heart pounded feeling him this close, his front flush against your back, his pretty silver curls tickling your neck. You struggled to keep your breath even and you tried to focus on the ball in front of you. You managed to snap out of it when it became clear that he wasn't helping you angle the cue correctly.

You looked over your shoulder at him and the spark in your eye was electrifying. Your muscles, previously lax and easily pliable, suddenly sprang to life as you took control of the cue. He heard the crack of the cue ball hitting the 3 ball before he saw it. He also felt the jab to his gut as you thrust the cue back in order to gain the necessary momentum to make the shot. He stepped back and coughed, holding his hand against his solar plexus. The pain was almost worth it when you spun around and covered your mouth with your hands, face growing a delicious shade of red.

The sudden horror of elbowing Astarion in the stomach filled your body with the heat of embarrassment, your eyes about to melt out of your head.

“I. Am. So. Sorry,” you managed to squeak out behind your hands. He was bent over slightly, but he still managed a weak smile.

“No, the mistake is mine for making an assumption,” he wheezed. You gnawed on your lower lip, anxiety coming off you in waves. Astarion straightened up and gently took your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to him.

“Just make sure we win,” he said in a silky tone that sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded dreamily, and he chucked his finger below your chin.

Watching you play pool was something else. You were suddenly more confident than you had been all night - he knew the damsel facade was just an act. He relished in seeing you stalk around the table like a lioness circling her prey. Your eyes flitted across the table, making calculations, playing each scenario out in your mind. Astarion fancied himself a decent billiards player, but you were an artist at work. Even Karlach and Wyll’s banter died down as they struggled to figure out how to beat you.

But even better than witnessing your mastery at pool was simply watching you as you played. The slight imprint the cue made across your chest as you leaned into it, the way your dress sparkled every time you moved, the cheeky glimpse of your ass as you bent down to take a shot.

He preened a little while he played, not so secretly hoping you were watching him as much as he was watching you. He may have put a little extra arch in his back, leaned back on his leg a little more than was necessary, just at the chance of seeing you flustered.

And fluster you it did. Not enough to throw you off your game - no, when it was time to take a shot, everything else fell away. But while you were waiting, you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. Every time he bent over, scandalous images passed through your mind, deepening the flush in your cheeks. While Wyll and Karlach discussed a shot, you watched his fingers lightly run over the length of his cue, and you wondered what else those fingers could do. The thought made your heart race and Astarion turned to look at you, almost as if he could read your mind. Which you didn’t think he could do. He didn’t know any spells, to your knowledge, but you should really try to control your thoughts just to be safe. Though you weren’t sure if you could around him.

You came back to yourself just as Karlach celebrated sinking their last striped ball. She punched Wyll in the shoulder and he rubbed at it while her back was turned. He surveyed the table, tried for an angle to pocket the 8 ball, and missed.

You stepped up to the table, mapping out the geometry in your mind's eye. You found an angle that should work, and you leaned over to line up your shot. Astarion came up behind you, and you could feel him pressing into your backside.

“You've got this,” he whispered, and a shudder shot through your body. Enough to misalign your carefully lined shot. And you missed.

“Aww, tough break!” Karlach could barely contain her glee. “Looks like Pretty Boy got you distracted,” she added with a devilish grin. You looked at Astarion and then quickly looked away, trying to hide your blush.

“What can I say? I'm very distracting,” he retorted. “But you haven't won just yet. I still get a shot.”

“Oh boo, just take your shot, then, so we can win.” She stuck out her tongue at him.

You felt awful for missing, since you absolutely would have made you hadn't been so down bad for him. It's also not lost on you that if you win, he might want to celebrate…

You quietly cast guidance on him as he's lining up his shot. He bristles, then changes his angle ever so slightly. He tapped the cue ball which bounced against the 8 ball, knocking it into the side pocket. You and Astarion both shouted with joy. Karlach’s face fell while Wyll eyed you suspiciously.

“What? No way, man, I can't believe you made it,” she pouted, crossing her arms across her broad chest. Astarion threw his arms around you and you pressed yourself into his chest, inhaling that intoxicating fragrance. You felt him vibrate with a low chuckle. You looked up at him without breaking the hug, and he whispered, “you cheeky little minx.”

You looked up at him with those doe eyes again, the feigned innocence back. He smirked and gently stroked your hair.

“Everyone, gather round, it's nearly midnight!” Shadowheart called out to the room. “Help yourselves to a toasting glass.”

Astarion led you to the tray of glasses and handed you one.

“I never fancied you a cheater,” he murmured under his breath. You looked at him aghast, this one not quite as convincing.

“10!.. 9!..”

“I'm certain I have no idea what you mean,” you shyly glanced up at him through your lashes. He was certain you knew exactly what you were doing.

“8!.. 7!..”

“I don't know if there's anything strictly in the rules about using cantrips,” he mused, looking off to the side. You stepped a smidge closer.

“6!.. 5!..”

“Well either way, I enjoyed playing by your side.”

“4!.. 3!..”

“I just enjoyed being by your side,” his voice was low and cool, and your heart started pounding in your throat.

“2!.. 1!.. Happy New Year!!”

He pulled up your chin towards his, planting a tender kiss on your lips. He tasted sweet, the drink he made earlier still on his tongue. You clutched at his fine vest, aching to deepen the kiss. You knew this wasn't the time or the place, but you desperately craved more of him.

He swiped his tongue along your lower lip and pulled away, hovering a few centimeters away from your face.

“Happy New Year indeed,” he purred, and smiled, flashing two pointed incisors that you just barely caught out of the corner of your eye.

Fangs? Your heart thumped loudly against your chest, trying to escape in excitement.

Fangs.

79 notes · View notes

art-by-char · 13 days ago

Text

Good Pain

Summary:

“Another nightmare?” He speaks softly into her hair as she curls further into his chest, relishing in the cool relief his skin brings. She nods wordlessly and his arms tighten around her. “What do you need, my love?” Zalaria can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the smell of his perfume mingling with his natural musk and her heart quickens. What she wouldn't give to lose herself in him right now.

Pairing: Astarion/Tiefling!Tav

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags/Warnings: praise kink, rough oral sex, rough sex in general, hair pulling, breath play, analingus, soft dom!Astarion, sub!Tav, vampire bites, blood drinking, aftercare, plus size Tav, using Tiefling horns as handlebars

Link on AO3.

A friend was looking for "good fics that involve using horns as handlebars," and then shortly after that I got an anon requesting Astarion x Tiefling!Tav, which honestly felt like kismet. Hence Good Pain was born.

Once again, @zipzoomzaria is out here doing the lord's work in providing the perfect screenshot for my banner.

Thank you @nellyofthevalley for being an AMAZING beta.

@comatosebunny09 I believe you said something about being called "good girl"? 😈

A rumble. A sudden fall. Darkness.

Then mind shattering pain. Zalaria thought she had known pain, but nothing like that. Blades sliced through her skull, a bed of nails dug into her back. It felt like her fingernails were being wrenched out one by one. This is the end, she thought, I'll never know anything but pain ever again.

“Zalaria!”

A cool hand touches her face and her eyes shoot open. She’s panting, a thin layer of sweat coating her brow and spine. A face slowly comes into focus. His face.

Astarion leans over her, tangled silver locks falling into his eyes. Those stunning red eyes, so often guarded, hardened to maintain his carefully constructed facade, now brimming with concern. Zalaria presses her cheek into his palm, inhaling his comforting scent as she tries to regulate her breathing.

Zalaria can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the smell of his perfume mingling with his natural musk and her heart quickens. What she wouldn't give to lose herself in him right now.

She tilts her head up, pressing against him as she envelopes his lips into a heated kiss. She can feel the surprise startle his body, but it doesn't take him more than a second to reciprocate. He presses his hand into her lower back and her mouth opens to let his tongue slip between her lips.

“Fuck me until I can't remember my own name,” she murmurs into the kiss, and he lets out a high pitched giggle that’s usually reserved for when he’s particularly pleased with himself, but occasionally Zalaria manages to get it when she catches him off guard.

“You're certain?” He’s smiling as he drags his lips along her jaw.

“Remind me what good pain feels like,” she breathes, her tail wrapping around his leg. She can feel the sharp intake of breath deep in his chest.

“And you'll let me know if you need me to slow down?” His voice drops and Zalaria has lost the ability to form words, so she just whines and nods.

“Good,” he growls and forcefully flips her on her back. His slender fingers wrap around her throat and apply just a touch of pressure, just enough for him to feel the pulse of each breath she takes. He pushes his knee up between her legs, eliciting a light moan that vibrates in his hand. He pulls her face towards his and she arches her back in response, always so obedient. He kisses her roughly and she melts beneath his touch, letting herself be led wherever he wants to go.

“Such a good girl, letting me use you like this,” he hisses, and she chokes out a gasp that gets cut off by his hand. “I can do whatever I want with you, to you, and you’d thank me for it.”

Zalaria writhes on top of his leg, looking for relief but trying to patiently wait for permission.

“So eager,” he continues to coo, and he moves his hand from her throat to ghosting over her sleep shirt, her rapidly hardening nipples poking through the thin cotton. He slips his hand underneath her shirt and digs into the soft flesh of her belly, his nails leaving little crescent-shaped marks behind in her dimpled skin. She twists her fingers into her hair tightly to keep them from roaming.

He peels off her shirt and nips into her breasts, breaking the skin just enough to open two tiny puncture wounds. He laps up the droplets of blood as he marks her body, leaving evidence of his desire behind. Every tiny movement that agitates the tender bruises will remind her of his love, of what good pain feels like. With each bite she contorts beneath him, yearning for more of his touch, his teeth, his lips.

“At this rate I could make you cum without even touching you,” he hums with a satisfied smirk, pushing his knee up into her mound and feeling her wetness seep through her shorts. Zalaria whimpers and grinds against his thigh wantonly.

“Ah ah,” he chides gently and pulls his knee away, throwing it over one side of her and straddling her waist. “Not until I say so, pet. First you must prove yourself to me. Can you do that?”

She can see the beginnings of an erection tenting his pants, and the thought of him roughly fucking her mouth sends a spark of heat between her legs. She looks up at him and bites her lower lip, giving him something between a pout and a plea. He grabs her jaw again, thumb pulling down on her chin so that her mouth pops open for him, waiting to be filled.

“I said, can you do that?” he repeats himself, tightening his fingers. She yelps and a sound vaguely resembling assent works its way out of her mouth.

“That’s my good girl,” he breathes and slides off his pants, dragging his half-hard cock up her belly. It takes everything in her power to keep her hands still, not daring to move them without Astarion’s command. He wrenches her mouth open and presses two fingers against her tongue.

“Suck,” he orders and she closes her lips around his fingers, working them as voraciously as if he had blessed her with his cock. She feels a jolt of delight as a breathy moan escapes his lips and she’s desperate to hear more. But he denies her that pleasure, taking his fingers back and using her saliva to bring himself to fully erect. Her eyes remain fixed on his cock, awaiting her treat hungrily.

“How much do you think you’ll be able to take, love?” He teases her lips with his tip and she cranes her neck impatiently. He instantly retaliates, grabbing hold of her horns and shoving her head back down onto the pillow.

“Naughty,” he snarls and Zalaria’s hips jerk with the sudden movement.

She can feel her slick coating her thighs and she lays tractably still, proving her compliance. His grip on her horns loosens and he strokes them, forcing a shiver down her spine.

“Do I need to take over?” he whispers dangerously.

She swallows a shaky breath, looking up at him towering over her, his light pink glans bobbing in front of her mockingly.

“Whatever it is you want, sir,” she rasps, eyes darting between his face and his cock mere inches away from her mouth. His lips curl into a devilish grin and he slides one hand down her face, grasping her chin tightly.

“That’s right, pet, whatever I want.” He yanks her mouth open and slides his cock in, her moan vibrating through his shaft. He moves both hands back to her horns, touch still infuriatingly gentle. Zalaria releases her jaw and opens her throat to welcome him deeper. He pushes in slowly, only stopping when he can feel her gag.

“Good girl, look how well you’re taking me,” he praises her on a low breath and she keens around his cock. He closes his grip on her horns once again and she freely relents to his control. He thrusts in and out of her mouth a few times, carefully curbing his speed with her horns.

She clenches the sheets in her hands, her cunt aching for relief as he fucks her mouth agonizingly slowly. He smirks, taking pleasure in how torturous this is for her.

“Shall I speed up? Can you take it? Have you earned it?” he croons and she nods, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. He increases his pace, and her breathy moans are garbled by his cock sliding in and out of her mouth. His little grunts and groans as his pleasure builds ring in Zalaria’s ears like a hymn.

“You’re such a good girl, doing such a good job letting me fuck your face,” he shudders, head falling back and grip remaining tight.

She slides her hand close to her sopping pussy but doesn’t touch. She looks up and asks the question with her eyes and a whine.

“Yes, my sweet. Since you’re doing so wonderfully, you may touch yourself,” he pants and she groans with relief as her fingers slide through her swollen folds. “But keep your gaze trained on me,” he adds in a growl as her eyelids flutter with ecstasy. She snaps her attention to him, his crimson eyes glowering down at her and his curls swaying with each stroke. Her fingers circle her clit and she knows that she won’t last long staring at him. She moans around his cock plunging in and out of her, his tip hitting the back of her throat.

“Ah, fuck,” he stammers and his movement grows more erratic. Zalaria forces her eyes to remain open as she cries into his thrusts, his menacing stare and punishing pace enough to send her over the edge. He grabs onto the base of her horns and with a few more stuttered jerks of his hips he comes too, his hot seed flooding her mouth.

He pulls out and she swallows greedily, licking as much as she can off her lips. He pants and tilts her head up, kissing his semen off her lips. She stares up at him adoringly.

“You're so beautiful. My beautiful good girl,” he murmurs, stroking her cheek.

She nuzzles into him like a cat, her purr manifesting as a low hum in her throat. After a moment, she whispers, “Thank you, Astarion, this means a lot to me.”

He’s still straddling her torso, and she lazily strokes his calf by her side. He laughs, low and dangerous, as he swings his other leg over and grabs her hips.

“You don't think I'm through with you yet, my love?” The rumble in his throat emanates a wicked promise.

Zalaria looks at him quizzically but can’t help the way her breath catches. Her voice is horse as she splutters, “But don't you—”

He silences her with a fierce kiss before roughly turning her over onto her stomach, yanking her hips up so her ass presses into his softening dick. He bends over her back and yanks her hair so his lips brush up against her ear.

“Do you still remember your name?”

She shivers as his teeth barely scrape along the shell of her ear.

“I- what? No, it’s fine—” she gasps, but a tug on her hair kills the words in her throat.

“Then I haven’t done my job.”

The venom in his voice might’ve scared Zalaria if it didn’t arouse her so much. He puts a little more pressure on her earlobe with his teeth and her mouth falls open in a suspended moan. He turns her head up slightly to look back at him.

“Unless it’s not what you want.”

His voice is icy, threatening even, but Zalaria knows that this is her opportunity to back out if she so pleases.

“No, it is what I want,” she pants, looking at him through heavy lidded eyes.

“I’m not convinced,” he spits into her ear. “Tell me exactly what you want, pet.”

“I-I want you,” she stammers, the strain on her neck pulling on her windpipe. “I want you to ruin me, Astarion. Please, sir, please use me however you want. Turn me into your obedient little pet.”

“And what else?” His hand tightens and Zalaria squeaks.

“Make me forget my name,” she keens, fists balling up the covers.

“That’s my good girl.” He releases her hair and massages her scalp, soothing the abused skin. He runs his lips down her shoulder blade, ending the trail with a bite that just barely breaks the skin.

“Count,” he demands.

“One.”

He laps up her blood.

“Say thank you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The gears in Zalaria’s mind turn, following the rules of his game. Bite. Count. Lick. Thank you. She can understand that. She quivers with excitement, tail swishing anxiously as she waits for the next bite. It’s a little harder when it comes, and she can’t hide her cry before the “two.” His tongue soothes the puncture left behind and she lets out a shuddering breath.

“Th-thank you, sir.”

Zalaria gnaws on her bottom lip to brace herself against the pain. She knows there are more to come and she wants to be sure she responds correctly. He moves the next bite lower on her back and she can feel his lips smiling against her skin just before he sinks his teeth in.

“Ah- three.” She’s unsuccessful in her attempt to suppress the groan that precedes her count. Astarion’s front is still pressed into her back and she can feel his cock twitch lightly. She smiles internally knowing he won’t need much more time to recover. He lavishes his tongue over the bite.

“Thank you, sir.” Zalaria’s breath rushes out of her in a wave. He digs his fingers into her ass cheeks, leaving angry raised marks behind. He bites into her thick love handle, properly drawing enough blood to drink. He relishes her hiss of, “Four,” that morphs into a satisfied groan.

After a few delicious sips he licks her skin clean, and her raspy “thank you, s-sir,” is barely audible. He runs a languid hand across the curve of her ass, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He spreads her cheeks and presses the length of his hardening dick between them. His abs push against the base of her tail, adding a new slant of pain, and she bites down on the comforter to muffle her moan. Astarion responds with a swift slap across her ass cheek.

“No no, love, you know I need to hear you. I want to hear you loud and clear this time, understood?” His honeyed voice has an underlying edge to it that sparks an ember in her belly.

“Y-yes sir!” Zalaria chokes out a cry of assent. He strokes up the base of her tail and she arches into him.

“That's my good girl. Last one, alright? You've done very well so far,” he coos and her tense backside relaxes into his grip. He bends down and bites again, this time into the flesh perilously close to her hole.

“Five!” Her twisted cry of pleasure and pain reverberates like music in his ears. He runs the flat of his tongue in a long stripe up the inside of her cheek and she shudders in response.

“Thank you, sirrr-ah!!” she shouts, the words disintegrating into an unbridled moan. He plants a tender kiss on the bite mark to soothe it while caressing her hips.

“Such a good girl, you listened so well,” he murmurs into the plump skin of her ass. She rests her forehead on her arm, panting heavily. Her tail curls subconsciously around the back of his neck as he continues to cover her ass in kisses, each one growing progressively sloppier.

Zalaria, still trying to catch her breath, lets out a strangled yelp as she feels Astarion’s tongue flick the puckered skin around her hole. She bites into her forearm, just trying to keep still as the competing sensations of exhilaration and debauchery threaten to tear her body apart.

“Astar-” she whines, his name getting swallowed up by a heavy breath.

“Do you like that, pet?” Astarion chuckles, enjoying the feel of Zalaria writhing beneath him. He forcefully yanks her tail up as he reaches a hand between her legs, running a gentle finger along her dripping slit and eliciting another shuddering gasp. “It would seem so if this is anything to judge by.”

With her face buried into the covers, she can't see him, but rather hears him lasciviously suck her slick off his finger.

“Please,” she moans, the sound of it stifled in the cave created between her head and arm.

“Please what?” He asks the question almost innocently, a stark contrast to the depravity of his actions. He swirls his tongue around her anus as he puts his hand between her legs again, scooping up her juices. He wipes the wetness around her rim, pressing his finger into her slightly before licking her clean.

She chokes on a sob, her whole body trembling.

“Please f-fuck me,” she manages to squeeze the words out despite falling apart. He hums with approval, the vibration of it resonating deep within her.

“Well, since you've been so good for me this evening, I suppose I can grant you this,” he coos, pressing his now throbbing cock against her swollen cunt.

She cries out, whether in relief or anguish or something else entirely, she has no idea. The painful teasing of his dick along her folds as his vice-like grip on her soft hips holds her in place sends her reeling.

“And I want to hear you scream,” he says in a low thrum, running a hand up her back from ass to neck, pressing into the trail of still sensitive bite marks. He reaches his destination and grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her head up until she's staring at the ceiling. She wraps her tail around his arm, a loving caress for a cruel limb.

He lines up his tip with the entrance of her cunt, letting the slippery wetness lube up the head of his cock. He hisses as he slides into her, her tight walls clenching around him. An incoherent string of mewls and moans spills out of Zalaria as he fills her slowly, excruciatingly, until he’s sheathed up to his base. He bends forward and pulls on her hair until his lips meet her ear.

“Scream,” he repeats sharply before grabbing hold of both of her horns and pounding into her mercilessly.

Her uninhibited wails stutter with the force of his thrusts, each one hitting her cervix and sending a white hot jolt of lightning rocketing through her entire body. She arches her back into him, pushing up on her elbows to ease the strain of him pulling her toward him with her horns. Each slam of his hips, every slap of his balls against her puffy labia brings her closer to the edge. She needs to reallocate the energy keeping her tail around his arm and it slides down limp at her side.

He pushes her face down into the covers, holding onto her horns even tighter while his hips start to tear into her unevenly. The friction of the fabric against her nipples, the fact that she can tell he’s close, his wrenching grip on her horns; it all proves too much for Zalaria. She turns her face to the side—making sure he can hear her, as instructed—and keens loudly through her climax. He follows soon after, spilling his seed into her with a low, sated groan.

She’s still shaking as he pulls out of her, softening cock gleaming with a mixture of their cum. She falls forward onto her belly, out of breath and completely unable to move. He sidles up beside her and pulls her back into him close, his soft kiss on the base of her neck like a soothing balm.

“Do you remember your name?” he whispers against her ear. He sweeps hair out of her eyes and gazes down at her fondly.

“I, uh- huh?” Zalaria blinks, her head still swimming through the fog of sensations, trying to parse any thoughts from the mess.

“Exactly what I wanted to hear,” he titters and presses another kiss to her temple. He helps her sit up, grabbing a plush blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders. “I'll go put on water for tea,” he says, cradling her face in his hand briefly before stepping away to head to the kitchen a few rooms over.

She pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders, baring her teeth as it agitates the bites on her back. She takes a few steadying breaths while she nestles deeper into her blanket cocoon, absentmindedly stroking the soft fabric.

Astarion returns, picking his sleep pants up off the floor. Zalaria protests softly and he stops with one pant leg on. He smirks at her puppy-like expression.

“You’ll have to make room for me under that blanket, darling, you know that,” he says and slides back on the bed, pulling Zalaria up into his lap as she wraps the blanket around his back, shielding his scars from the cold air. She nuzzles up to his naked chest, breathing in his scent and providing enough warmth for both of them. He tilts up her chin gently with a knuckle, red eyes sparkling with his affection for her, and lays a sugary sweet kiss on her lips. She savors it, the taste that can sustain her through any nightmare.

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