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neetheslayer · 8 months ago

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Astarion, Halsin and Tav become a triad after the fall of the Netherbrain. This is a story of how it begins, progresses, and eventually ends.

Astarion x named F!Tav x Halsin

porn with (!) plot / character study, but through smut

18+, smut, threesome, double penetration, lots of dirty talk, what else... you know what, just refer to the AO3 tags, link below

In my headcanon, Halsin approaches both Asmodea and Astarion together, rather than just Asmodea alone.

This fic picks up their story where I left it in A Night at the Inn, and is a companion for Chapter 10 of Bloodbang Chronicles (in which Astarion is the one receiving - you can read that chapter as a standalone if you want). All three pieces are threesome smut.

Or, if you want more of Astarion's dynamic with Asmodea, check out Bloodbang Chronicles generally.

Anyway, enjoy!

Approx. 7.9k words

AO3

Each section break signifies a jump forward in time.

Of course the bloody druid was after her too - just about everyone else in this blasted group had been at one point or another. Astarion sighed inwardly as he observed the druid conversing with his lover.

Halsin hadn��t been with them long. He hadn’t mingled much with the rest of the group during the journey from the Emerald Grove, and then, on reaching the Shadowcursed Lands, he had stayed back at Last Light, having only rejoined them recently.

But ever since, the druid had been giving Asmodea increasing amounts of attention. Even now, having just finished talking with her, Halsin's eyes trailed her as he drew on his pipe.

Why should he be any different - just about everyone else had made some advances on their de facto ‘leader’ by then. Only Karlach had always stayed on friendly terms with her – Astarion had worried that might change after that blacksmith Dammon sorted her little tactile problem, but it appeared their bond had remained sister-like.

As for his own claim on the woman – it seemed he was widely disregarded as a rake. Taken for a temporary thing she and anyone else would discard without a moment’s hesitation, if anything more tangible came along. Never mind that his feelings had been growing each day, despite his efforts to the contrary. As had her own, towards him, unless he was blind.

Was she even aware of any of this..? She had to be.

As Astarion pondered this, Asmodea sat down next to him, pressing her thigh against his and leaning against him; as though just a small fragile thing seeking protection or warmth from him – despite the fact she barely needed the former anymore, and he couldn’t provide the latter. Still, it made for an excellent and obvious display for everyone around them. Without thinking, he pulled her against him by her waist, pressing his lips against her temple.

She looked up at him, eyes twinkling in lighthearted glee.

“I know,” she whispered, inclining her head slightly towards the druid.

“I know you know,” Astarion murmured back. Well, now he did, anyway.

“Good,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the lips and turning her attention to the food in front of her.

Astarion glanced at Halsin, who sat across the fire. The druid met his gaze. Not in challenge, but rather with... open curiosity. The druid’s lips curled in a genuine smile, his eyes lingering on Astarion’s longer than generally acceptable.

…Oh. …Hah!

Astarion looked away, amused, smirking into his wine goblet. It seemed he had misread the druid, somewhat. Yes, he knew that look very well.

Godsdamned wood elves…

“Could you go ask Lae’zel for one of her training swords?”

“Why?”

“I’ll show you. ...But also I think she will be less inclined to murder me for wasting everyone’s time, if she’s curious about me needing a sword with my morning bath.”

“She’ll have to murder me and Halsin first.” Astarion grumbled, but left the inn’s bathing room to retrieve the sword.

Him and Halsin… A debaucherous night spent with both of them, lasting well into the morning. Astarion had mostly watched or directed her and Halsin, still not wanting to be touched himself, but it was, undoubtedly, the most they had done since before the night they had their heart to heart in the Shadowcursed Lands.

Halsin hesitated at the door.

“Before I leave this room, I must know... Once this door shuts behind me, is... this-” he gestured at the three of them, “staying behind as well? Or can the future hold something for us?” She knew the druid would have accepted whichever answer he was given, but she could tell he was a hair’s breadth from a pained expression.

She exchanged a look with Astarion. It was he who finally spoke.

“It doesn’t have to stay behind. You’ve been better for us than you might realise,” he said, with a grin. “But let’s talk about that later.”

“I am glad,” Halsin said, smiling, before leaving.

What in the hells had they just started..?

Astarion returned with the blunted practice weapon.

“Most of the others have gone out into the city. And you were right, the moment I asked Lae’zel for a sword, she swapped all murderous intent to curiosity.”

Asmodea took the sword and submerged most if it in the lukewarm water in the tub, channelling a Heat Metal spell through it.

“Old bard trick,” she explained to Astarion, waiting for the water to heat up. “So,” she added, looking up at Astarion. “Halsin.”

“Yes,” he said, thoughtfully. “Halsin.”

They exchanged and held equally incredulous looks, before breaking out into laughter.

“I told you he wanted both of us!” Asmodea exclaimed amid the tittering. “So… What do you think? Truly?” she asked once the laughter had died down a bit.

“It… It was certainly entertaining, sharing you with him,” Astarion snickered.

“And you..? Do you think you would be comfortable..? Being ‘shared’?”

“I’m not averse to the idea... But, for now, he might be more than I can handle.”

“...Well, with enough patience, determination and grease...”

“Why do I even like you...” Astarion muttered, heaving a massive, exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. “That is not how I meant that!” he exclaimed. “...Although that too, most likely.”

They broke into another fit of laughter.

“But I… I don’t see any harm in it. I think it could be good, even,” Astarion said, softly this time, once they had both calmed down. “What about you..?”

Astarion sat on the roof of the Elfsong, watching the streets below. He was most certainly not on the lookout for two figures - a slender one with a disarray of locs on her head, and a robust-looking one that would tower over the first. How long had they been gone now, anyway?

He sipped his wine, straight from the bottle. It was pleasant, but lacked the kick he had grown used to from adding blood to it. Wyll would have agreed to donate some, if he’d only asked, but he couldn’t bear to go downstairs and be seen by anyone. He knew what they were all thinking.

Asmodea and Halsin had been eager to explore whatever it was they had set in motion. As for Astarion, after the initial elation had subsided, he just wanted time to himself to think, and so he had all but shoved them out the door together. Halsin had made it abundantly clear he wanted to include Astarion. Astarion, in turn, assured them both that he was happy for them to spend some time alone that night. And Asmodea… Asmodea had been visibly conflicted, but listened to him in the end.

And now he was hiding out on the roof, not being in the mood to explain to anyone why his lover had suddenly taken off with another. They had tried to be discreet, but you couldn’t sneeze without everyone in camp knowing about it and making it their business, much less have a little… arrangement.

Was that all it was?

He probed at his own feelings as he swirled the wine in his mouth, and found them to be a nonsensical potpourri of jealousy, relief, doubt, giddiness, inadequacy, excitement, fear and hope. The emotions mixed and swirled, constantly replacing one another at the forefront of his mind.

Astarion found himself, once again, contemplating how he himself felt about the druid.

There was a physical attraction, certainly. But also an admiration. A certain peace and serenity was to be found in his company - something Astarion hadn’t felt in centuries. Astarion often found himself discarding all his usual masks with Halsin, disarmed by the druid’s own earnestness.

Above all, he felt safe.

What would it be like..? Having this… gentle giant, to share with Asmodea.

Sweet pondering thoughts switched abruptly to more mundane and grounded ones.

What were they doing now? Talking about him, perhaps? Resolving that he wasn’t necessary after all? Or maybe just happily fucking each other’s brains out, not giving him a single thought to begin with?

Was all this just a massive, stupid mistake?

Thoughts spiralling and racing, Astarion gulped down more of the wine. He could go for more of that herb, whatever it was, that Halsin had given him the other night, Astarion thought - he refused to believe it was really catnip. He surveyed the street below, again. How long could it possibly take?!

Karlach appeared on the roof, holding a bottle of her own by the neck.

Ah, here comes the envoy of the pity committee…

“Hey Fangs. You alright..? Do I need to knock some sense into anyone?”

“I’ll have you know, I had their invitation, and they had my blessing,” he all but snarled, choosing to cut straight to the point.

“Right, whatever,” she said, sitting down next to him. “You elves are fucking weird, you know.”

“Yes, well, after a few centuries you change your perspective on some trivialities,” he snapped.

Karlach only emitted a brief, bitter laugh.

…Shit.

Astarion belatedly realised she was the last person to whom he should have said anything about longevity or life expectancy. He turned to look at her. Her forehead, he now noticed, bore a sheen of perspiration despite the pleasantly cool weather, her breathing was more laboured than usual.

“How’s your engine?” he asked, softly.

“Shit,” she said, taking a swig from her bottle, and drawing her knees up against her chest.

Another nail for his proverbial coffin.

He reached out, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, letting her lean against himself. He didn’t know what to say, but this - this was close enough to what he had done countless times for drunk and newly single women seeking a shoulder to cry on and a dick to ride on, before whisking them to their demise - though he truly meant the gesture this time.

“Saw an old friend of mine today,” Karlach said, quietly. “She’s having a baby. I told her I’d go see her once all this was over.” She sniffed, masking it as a chuckle. “Never going to happen, is it?”

Cazador’s presence still looming over him, tadpole still in his brain, his lover in another’s arms (at his own insistence, no less), AND he could lose his friend any day.

Astarion said nothing and rubbed her shoulder.

He lay in bed when Asmodea finally returned. She seemed hesitant, only giving him a worried look when she realised he was still awake. He wordlessly lifted the edge of the blanket in invitation. With some relief writ on her face, she joined him under the covers. She fidgeted, as though unsure just how to settle down, until he pulled her tightly against himself.

“Do you want to know..?” she asked.

He thought she would smell of the druid. Instead, she smelled like she just bathed.

“Not really,” he answered.

She snuggled against him as she would ordinarily, to go to sleep, but the silence between them was pregnant, and before long, she sighed and leaned away from him, reclining on her elbow.

“Star…”

Astarion opened his eyes and met her gaze.

Gods, but he didn’t want to talk about anything just then.

He pressed a finger to her lips, then stroked her face, gently, looking into her eyes. What was it he read in them..? Concern, maybe. Worry. Pleading? Was that… fear..?

Something twisted in his chest. He couldn’t bear to have her look at him like that.

He pulled her back against himself, pressing his lips against hers, as she melted into him, her tension beginning to dissipate. She wanted to say something, but he kissed her again and again, hands beginning to roam her. If only he could show her all his love... He caressed reassurance into her body, as he knew words would fail him now. Pulled her clothes off so he could feel her, all of her, and be felt. She did the same for him, also having given up on saying anything, turning instead to conveying her affection and longing through touch alone, just as they had done all that time ago, when their blossoming love for one another was still an open but unspoken secret.

But what had happened to this same body earlier..?

Even through the tenderness that had just overtaken him, he found that the thought intrigued him. His mind wandered to images of her writhing with the druid, coming undone in ecstasy, the way he had already witnessed them do earlier. The images caused a warm coil to tighten at the bottom of his stomach. How close were they to reality, he wondered.

As her clothes came off and her body wrapped around his, his fingers probed and sought evidence of her evening. Was she too tender? Too swollen? Did she seem sore? Was she bruised anywhere? The druid had been mindful of his proportions and movements in the night that they all shared together, but who knew, maybe Halsin lost his restraint and had simply healed any damage he had done after.

Perhaps he did want to know.

Lewd thoughts turned to outrage at the very idea that anyone might have possibly hurt what was his. Even if he willingly shared some part of her. She was his.

Astarion’s arms tightened around her, and he deepened his kiss, moaning into her mouth. She tangled her fingers in his hair and whimpered, softly.

“Ugh, gross…” Astarion heard Karlach saying a few beds over. “Hey Gale… Gale!”

The wizard produced something between a snore and a disgruntled salutation, and cast a habitual sphere of silence around the pair’s bed, before presumably immediately falling back asleep somewhere beyond the privacy screens.

Astarion’s fingers slipped between Asmodea’s legs, earning him a moan as she spread wider for him. Wet, so wet. For him. As she should be.

He wanted to fuck her hard into the bed, lay his claim on her, but he didn’t want to be compared with the druid so soon after whatever had happened between him and her. Instead, he slipped his fingers inside her, twisting and curling them, digging into the sweet spot within her - where she told him no one before him had ever pleasured her properly. This was his and his only. He pressed his fingers into it rougher than usual, until she panted and whined. Had she made these same sounds for Halsin earlier this night?

“Gods… Please don’t stop,” she gasped.

“Oh I’m not stopping anytime soon, darling,” he whispered in her ear.

Perhaps sensing something different in his voice, she opened her eyes and looked up at him as he leaned over her, his fingers still working inside her.

“How many times did you come for him?”

“Ast-” she began.

“How many?” he asked again, punctuating his words by rolling her clit with his thumb.

She swallowed hard, her cunt already starting to pulse in little pre-orgasm contractions around his fingers.

“Twice,” she said, wetting her lips.

“Then you owe me three.”

He moved his hand faster, mercilessly building more and more pressure.

Mine… Before anyone else’s, mine. Not the druid’s. Not her bloody patron’s. Not the godsdamned Emperor’s. Not that devil’s. No one’s. Only mine.

Her moans were mounting, almost turning into screams. She sat up, leaning back on her elbows, stilling, looking into his eyes and accepting what he was giving her. Just as she threw her head back and released a desperate groan, he sank his fangs into her neck.

Mine, mine, mine, mine…

She came all over his hand, completely losing all control, legs shaking as he stroked her more gently through her orgasm, even as he drank from her.

He broke away from her neck, humming soothingly as she gasped and sobbed quietly in the aftershocks of her orgasm. He kissed up her neck until his lips were at her ear again.

“One.”

Astarion watched Asmodea and Karlach toppling over one another, laughing, as they swapped stories of living in Avernus and living on the road travelling inn to inn (which at times sounded to have been rougher than Avernus). Halsin shared their table. He had been nursing the same tankard of mead for the past few hours, Astarion noticed, probably having gotten the drink solely to avoid anyone else inevitably forcing one on him.

A semi-decent bardic troupe had taken stage, playing something raucous but catchy.

“Come on, Halsin, come dance with me!” Karlach offered.

“I’m afraid I have two left legs, and a bear’s grace besides,” he declined with a smile and firm shake of his head.

“Aww,” Karlach pouted. “What about you, Fangs? Dance with me?”

“Darling, you have to wine and dine me before you get to dance me, and I’ve been carrying your tab ever since we got to the city.”

“Please??”

“No.”

“Ever seen a cat on a leash?” Asmodea butted in. “When it just plops down on the ground and refuses to move, even as you drag it? That’s Astarion when he doesn’t want to do something,” she laughed. “Let’s go, I’ll dance with you.”

And just like that, Astarion found himself left alone at the table with Halsin.

“Perhaps something needs to be said,” Halsin remarked with a coy grin, once the silence stretched too long for comfort. If Astarion hadn’t known any better, he might even have thought that the druid was teasing him.

Oh for hells’ sake…

Without a word, Astarion turned towards the druid, grasped his face with both hands, and pulled him down to kiss him.

Somewhere in the back of Astarion’s mind, he thought that if he had been a poet, he would have said that the kiss tasted something like honey and the warmth of a hearth on a rainy night. But no, the kiss mostly tasted like Halsin’s tobacco mixture, with a subtle hint of the cheap mead he had been pretending to drink. By no means repugnant, but not earth-shattering either.

But then he was pulled against a broad chest by strong but gentle hands, his kiss returned with tender passion and reverence, and something inside him fluttered.

They had taken to sleeping together, tiring of the game of musical chairs when it came to the large bed at their disposal, and the necessity to continuously move their things around.

They hadn’t had another night as debauched as their very first one - a kind of subdued modesty had replaced open lust once feelings were laid bare, their lovemaking treated with delicacy.

It hadn’t yet been long since Astarion had begun allowing himself to fully indulge in sex again, and thus far it had only been with Asmodea, and only privately.

That night, they both happened to find themselves awake next to the sleeping druid. Unassuming embraces led to tender kisses, led to sensual touches, led to unabashed groping and stroking, until they became a tangle of limbs, giggling and shushing at each other, a sheet pulled over their heads as though it would hide or muffle anything they had been doing.

Astarion had been leaving a trail of kisses down Asmodea’s neck when she realised that the sheet was slowly but steadily slipping off to one side. She turned her now uncovered head to see Halsin tugging on the covers, until she and Astarion were laid completely bare before the druid.

Astarion glanced at the other elf but only went right back to kissing and caressing her, like it was the most normal and natural thing in the world to do so before an audience.

Asmodea’s breath hitched as Astarion’s fingers, which had been playing with a nipple, slid lower, to stroke her slit, gliding with no resistance, spreading her slick.

“Hmm, already..?” he purred in her ear. “You like being watched, don’t you?” He grinned and continued to caress between her legs, dipping his fingers inside her.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” she said, innocently.

Astarion simply brought his fingers up to her mouth in response, letting her lick and suck her own juices off them, groaning softly. He continued to move his fingers in and out of her mouth, letting her suck and nibble on them.

“Should we show him more, my love?” he murmured, loud enough that he was sure that Halsin heard as well. “Should we show him how I make you come?”

An assenting hum had barely left Asmodea, when Astarion sat up between her legs, reaching to rub and slide his erection between her legs, coating it in her slick.

“My wanton minx… Always so eager,” he purred, before burying his cock inside her.

He plunged deep inside, but only gave her a few cursory thrusts, before leaning over her and beginning to roll his hips against her in hard, rhythmical, circular motions. He kept her stretched and full with his cock, but didn’t give her much inner friction, instead focusing the pressure on her clit. Persistent, knowing, unrelenting. But also gentle and loving. He could keep going like this as long as she needed - not that this ever took long.

Asmodea moaned and sighed in pleasure, the sensation gently but steadily bringing her closer and closer to her peak. She relaxed into it, beginning to pulse and squeeze around Astarion’s length before long, her moans building.

“That’s it, show him…” he purred. “Show him how you come on my cock.”

The sound of his voice brought her over the edge, melting helplessly under him in soft, keening moans. Only then did he really begin thrusting, perhaps being unable to withstand any more of this tease himself.

She doubted it had been much of a display, but the druid stirred next to them with a throaty groan,

“Beautiful…” he whispered.

Asmodea drew Astarion in a kiss, before rolling on top of him, dismounting, and kissing down his neck and torso towards his cock, rock-hard with his own unreleased need.

He breathed hard as she kissed and licked around it, perhaps not entirely unaffected by the presence of another in their bed either.

“Do you want me to do this,” she purred, regarding him from beneath her lashes, as she kissed the tender skin of his inner thighs, “or Halsin?”

Astarion hesitated, cock twitching in desperation to be pleasured by anyone.

“You,” he breathed, finally. She eagerly licked up his shaft and swirled her tongue around the head, and Astarion fell back against the pillows, shutting his eyes and tangling his fingers in her hair. “…This time,” he added.

It was Halsin’s decision to return to Reithwin after the fall of the Netherbrain. He sought to rebuild the city, gathering orphans, misfits and others who were displaced by the Absolute’s army. Astarion and Asmodea chose to go with him, not wanting to be separated, and not having any better ideas or plans besides.

It was a strange time in their lives. Elation at newfound freedom, mixed with the grief for the loss of Astarion’s ability to walk in the sun, and the overall uncertainty of their future. Neither were accustomed to what they had found themselves in.

Asmodea had returned to what she knew best, providing entertainment for the residents of the settlement. The children adored her, to her bemusement, bringing her small gifts: drawings, wreaths made of flowers that now grew throughout what used to be cursed and barren lands, beads they insisted she braid and tie into her hair.

Astarion in turn had been talked by Halsin into giving literacy and history lessons to the orphans. In part because there weren’t many others willing or able to do it, and in part, Asmodea suspected, simply to give him something to occupy himself with - he tried to hide it, but he had been miserable ever since the tadpole was removed from his brain along with all its benefits.

She walked in at the end of one such lesson, the makeshift classroom illuminated by candles and magelights, curtains and shutters drawn securely against the daylight.

“You’re very patient with them,” Asmodea noted with a smile, once the classroom cleared.

“I have an entire eternity to wait while they figure out the difference between ‘d’ and ‘b’,” Astarion sighed.

“Another group arrived today. Lots of kids. They’ll be joining these before long.”

“If they must,” Astarion rolled his eyes. “But can you do me a favour?” he asked. “No more teenage girls - someone else can deal with them. In fact, you take them.”

Asmodea lifted an eyebrow in question.

“They come in here, painted with rouge and charcoal, and try to make eyes at me instead of listening,” Astarion explained. “It’s disconcerting.”

The three lounged on a sofa in the house they had claimed for themselves. At one end, Halsin was busy with some ledgers that had been dumped on him - gods only knew why, he didn’t have a head for this kind of work. At the other, Astarion was likewise quietly busy with some novel, biding his time until the last rays of the sun hid. He would be out the door for a hunt the moment it was safe for him. Asmodea sprawled between them, her head on Astarion’s lap, her legs thrown over one of Halsin’s thighs.

Gods, but she was bored.

She regarded Halsin and the open misery written on his face as he tried to reconcile… What was it? Purchase orders of masonry and tools, against what had actually been recorded as delivered, against what had been charged.

Her bare foot slid between Halsin’s legs and pressed into his crotch, through his breeches.

“Could it be one of the missing hammers is here..?”

“Not now, my heart,” was his response.

She continued to lightly rub her foot against the bulge.

“Or is this one of the pillars..?”

“I must finish this before tomorrow,” he said, though he did not shift away from her, and had indeed begun to harden beneath her prodding.

“My, it’s erecting all by itself, why have we bothered to order any supplies at all when we have such marvels at hand?”

“You are truly testing my patience today,” he said in a low growl.

The ledger went flying across the room as she kicked it out of Halsin’s hands. The druid’s nostrils flared and he gave her a smouldering look.

“I warned you.”

She squealed as she found herself suddenly yanked by her leg down the sofa, off Astarion’s lap.

“Astarion!!” she laughed, reaching for him.

“No, no darling, you poked the bear and brought this upon yourself,” he said, unaffected, turning a page. “Now you must face the consequences.”

Halsin pulled her onto his own lap, flipping her onto her stomach, holding her down firmly with one hand, and pulling her pants down with the other.

“You brute! Just what do you think you’re doing?!” she cried out, trying not to laugh.

Halsin, though a generous, attentive and passionate lover, was not ordinarily one for such games, and getting him into a state of mind for one was a rare treat.

A loud sound resonated through the room, as a smack landed on one of her ass cheeks.

“I am teaching you a lesson.”

It could have been much harder, the druid was holding back, as per usual.

“How dare you?! Release me at once, you savage,” she cried, her voice faltering on the last word, as Halsin delivered another smack.

Astarion shifted where he lounged, now watching them through lidded eyes.

“It’s no use, you know - you’re just throwing more oil on the flames.”

Asmodea gasped as Halsin’s hand slid between her legs, stroking her.

“You’re right. Should I cease?”

She struggled and kicked but remained securely restrained by the druid, his digits now slipping inside her rapidly moistening hole.

“Absolutely not. You must remain steadfast and determined. Perhaps double down on your efforts until you see a result.”

The hand between her legs left and delivered a series of blows on her rear, the slaps now having a sting to them. Asmodea moaned between each one.

She looked at Astarion with her best round-eyed pleading face. His own book had been discarded as well.

“Star? My love? My sweet? Are you just - ah! - going to let him do this to me?!”

“There there, my love… I’ll kiss it better once he’s done with you.”

They lay beneath the stars, bathed in moonlight, the night warm and serene. Asmodea’s head rested on Astarion’s shoulder, their fingers entwined.

“What is the difference between me and him, for you?” Astarion asked, softly. “In the way you feel about us?”

She paused to consider her words before responding.

“With you, I feel like I can take on the entire world. Like we could set it ablaze and stand atop a pile of rubble, holding hands and watching it all burn,” she answered, before growing quiet again for some moments.

“And with him, I feel like maybe the world doesn’t need to burn. ...Or if it does, no matter what, he would be an undisturbed, peaceful grove. A place where one would be protected and nourished. Where they could forget about everything outside. ...Only they couldn’t stay in that grove forever.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” Astarion chuckled quietly. “I think I feel more or less the same way. It’s that, and…” he began to say something, but cut himself short, and shook his head, not finishing the sentence.

“And what?” Asmodea encouraged him, smiling. “Tell me!”

“It’s going to sound completely idiotic after what you just said,” he explained, before sighing and continuing, at her insistence. “…And sometimes, it… feels nice, for me, to be the small and delicate one,” he explained, coyly.

Halsin’s cock filled her, thrusting into her in short, rhythmic strokes - he was always so conscious of not hurting anyone, even when they wanted him to simply let go.

She arched her back, legs spread wide, ass raised to meet his hips, and bucked back into him wantonly, sliding on his length. Her back would hurt later, but for now she didn’t have a care in the world.

Astarion’s cock filled her mouth. She worked it with the rhythm of Halsin’s thrusts from behind her, keeping a hand firmly on the base of his shaft, in case any sudden surprises came from Halsin.

“Good girl…” groaned Astarion. “My good, dirty girl…”

“She’s like a wildcat in heat,” followed from Halsin, his voice heavy with lust.

She moaned at the praise and curved her back further, trying to open herself up even more, urging Halsin further, deeper.

He gripped her hips harder with one of his hands, continuing to thrust into her, and dragged the fingertips of the other along and up her ass cheek, until they brushed over her puckered hole.

She groaned around Astarion’s cock as Halsin’s thumb teased around the edge of her asshole, hoping he would do more, trying to buck and grind her hips against his cock and hand harder.

“Careful, it’s me she’ll bite if you make her too desperate,” warned Astarion.

Halsin applied more pressure, rubbing her hole, as she mewled and whined around Astarion’s cock, trying to continue sucking it, but losing any finesse or rhythm. It only made him gasp and bury his fingers in her hair, tugging on it and holding her in place, as he started to fuck her mouth himself.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word,” said Halsin. Fucking hilarious, she thought, considering the things that were happening to her mouth at that moment. Well, they did have other ways of communicating set in place, for just this type of situation.

“She doesn’t want you to stop one bit,” purred Astarion. “Do you, pet?” He tugged on her hair and tilted her head, keeping his cock deep in her mouth. “Look at me,” he whispered. She met his eyes as he continued to slide his cock between her lips. His pupils were blown with lust and want. “Do you like what he’s doing?”

Asmodea could only hum in assent. The pressure from Halsin’s finger told her he was just on the cusp of dipping inside, and it was driving her mad.

“Think your tight little hole is ready for more today..?” Astarion purred, stroking her face as he fucked it. “Tell me.”

His dick slipped out of her mouth.

“Yes, for hells’ sake,” she gasped.

But, to her dismay, the druid slid out of her entirely, leaving her frustrated and empty. Before she could react, Astarion lifted her up on her knees from her position on all fours, and kissed her, caressing and teasing her tongue with his own.

“Do you want to try something new with us?” he whispered, his lips brushing against her own, before leaning away.

Off to her side, Halsin had laid on his back, lazily stroking his cock, which had remained at full mast for her. He beckoned her with his free hand, and, released by Astarion, she crawled on top of him. She wanted to taste him then, but he kept leading her up, until their hips were level, and then impatiently plunged back inside her.

Astarion’s arm wrapped around her from behind, and brought her back up into a sitting position on Halsin’s cock. He kissed and nibbled on her neck as the druid thrusted shallowly inside her.

Had they orchestrated this..?

“Hmm,” Asmodea hummed, with a sly smile. “What was that about tight holes?”

“Oh, this?” Astarion said, distractedly, sliding his fingers along her hip and the cleft of her ass until it reached her asshole and rubbed, teasing. “Why, is there something you want me to do with it..?”

She nearly hissed at him for his gloating, but Halsin chose that moment to pinch one of her nipples, and the noise that came out of her instead was closer to a whimper.

“You’re the one who said something about… wanting to try something new.” she managed, as Astarion continued to rub her hole, smirking. “So what is it?”

“Guess,” he purred against the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

Astarion had fucked her ass before. He wasn’t the first person she’d tried that with, but he was the one who managed to teach her to actually enjoy it. It wouldn’t be that, not exactly, but given Halsin’s presence and their obvious smugness - even Halsin appeared cocksure and brash…

“Are you both going to fuck me at once?” she grinned, biting her lip.

“Do you want us to?” he asked, his voice pure velvet. “Say it.”

Gods, this fucking man... Fine, two could play this game. Three, if Halsin was in the mood to go along with it - he usually wasn’t vocal, a contrast to Astarion, who simply wouldn’t ever shut up.

She leaned back, twisting and grinding hard against Halsin, and caught Astarion’s earlobe between her teeth, nipping at it, before murmuring back to him.

“I want to feel both of you, at once, fucking me, filling me. Now will you stop dallying? I want you inside me.”

Astarion let out what sounded like an involuntary groan, but before Asmodea could claim moral victory, she found herself thrown against Halsin’s chest, still stuffed with his cock, ass up.

“Inside you..? Where? Here?” Astarion asked, innocently, just before crouching down to tongue her asshole.

She gasped and laughed, squirming at the sudden sensation. But at last, it appeared Astarion had had enough of teasing her, as he retrieved a vial of oil, and hastily but generously coated his fingers with it, spreading it over her puckered hole as well.

She ground lightly against Halsin as Astarion inserted one finger, and then, at her obvious ease and eagerness, another. The druid was holding her down, not giving her much friction, and she mewled in protest at being restrained so.

“I thought you’d like that…” Astarion breathed in her ear. “More..?”

His fingers were a teasing promise of everything he was about to do to her, and she found she simply could not wait, and could not allow Astarion to find any reason to keep holding back.

“Please…” she begged.

“Please what?” he rasped.

“Please fuck me.”

She heard his breath hitch at her pleading. His fingers slipped out, and moments later, at last, she felt the tip of his cock against her entrance, slowly but insistently pushing its way in. She gasped as the sensation became overwhelming. There was no possible way that she could fit a single millimetre more of him, couldn’t be stretched even a hair’s width wider - and yet he kept going, cooing at her wide-eyed whimpers, until he filled her completely, pressing his chest against her back.

“Well look at you, filled to the brim with elf cock…” Astarion’s taunt didn’t carry its usual edge, given the way his voice trembled.

“I think she’s earned a little reward for that,” said Halsin, reaching up to cup and tenderly caress her breasts.

“I think so too,” said Astarion.

Astarion’s fingers, still covered in some of the oil, snaked down her stomach to her clit, and began drawing circles around it. Asmodea shut her eyes and threw her head back against Astarion’s shoulder, moaning.

The sensation, starting off as a building warmth, quickly grew more intense as his fingers sped up, gliding over her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hips began to twitch, but were held down securely by Halsin, as he started to thrust up into her.

“This is your reward for being such a good girl,” Astarion whispered in her ear, his fingers now flicking her clit quickly.

She was caught off-guard by how quickly an orgasm overtook her, suddenly finding herself melting, helplessly pulsing and clenching around the hard lengths inside her. The sheer force of it had both Astarion and Halsin groaning and gasping, in short order.

“Gods… We have to make her do that again,” laughed Astarion.

“You’ve read my mind,” the druid said in agreement.

They both began to thrust into her, gently but persistently, rhythmically, and all she could do was pant and whimper at the stretch of both their cocks inside her, even as they talked around her.

“She’s so incredibly tight like this,” Astarion groaned. He paused, briefly, with an incredulous, breathy laugh. “I can feel you through her,” he gasped. “I can feel you thrusting.”

“Can you..?” Halsin rasped, and sped up, gripping her hips tightly, making both Asmodea and Astarion pant. Astarion swore through his teeth and picked up his own pace, unable to hold back any longer.

Asmodea found herself thrown atop the druid’s chest once again, as her lovers lost their reserve and began fucking her vigorously.

Good, it felt so fucking good, this intense pounding in both her holes, and she tried to voice as much, knowing how much Astarion loved it when she talked or praised him during their lovemaking, but any words she tried to say came out as unintelligible babbling.

It was a wonder how easily they’d found this maddening rhythm, working seamlessly to bring her and each other over the edge with their thrusting - but she supposed they had a combined 500 years of experience on her, at least.

She gave up on trying to say anything and simply moaned into Halsin’s neck.

“Is our little vixen going to come for us again..?” Astarion had crouched over her, keeping her sandwiched between himself and Halsin.

Her clit was pressed tightly against Halsin’s pelvis, and between that, the way the head of his impressive cock dragged against all her most sensitive parts with each thrust, as well as the sensation of Astarion’s hips mercilessly snapping against her ass, burying himself in her again and again, another orgasm began to wash over her.

Feeling her walls throb, nearing another climax, the elves also lost all control, chasing their own release within her body with reckless abandon. Her world became nought but bucking hips and the sound of grunts and smacking flesh. She could no longer tell where her body ended and theirs began. Her legs shook as everything between them convulsed in shockwaves resonating through her entire body. Astarion bit down on her shoulder with a strangled groan just as Halsin gave her a final hard thrust with an animalistic growl.

Asmodea’s vision blurred, and she must have passed for some moments, as she came to, to find that the frantic pounding had once again been replaced by gentle rocking, as final orgasmic aftershocks were ridden out.

Astarion slipped out of her first, leaving a trail of tender kisses down her shoulders and back, as Halsin simply embraced her, pressing his lips against the crown of her head, while she continued to lie on his chest.

“Did you like that, darling?” Astarion whispered, as though he had any doubt about the answer.

“Uh-huh,” she managed, remaining on top of Halsin as Astarion got up, somewhat shaky, in search of a towel.

“Are you well, my heart?” Halsin murmured to her.

“Yep,” she susurrated. “I’m just going to stay right here for now - I don’t think my legs are willing to listen to me yet.”

The druid chuckled and held her closer.

A bead of sweat rolled from Halsin’s forehead, down his nose, and dropped right into Asmodea’s eye.

She blinked and rubbed at it, trying to do it quickly, without drawing any attention to it, so it wouldn’t break the mood. It wasn’t a big deal, but gods was it irritating when it happened... …Gah, she had been so close, too.

The sex was great, truly, but this - the godsdamned sweat - was an area where Astarion won by a landslide - his body being much cooler, he simply did not perspire anywhere near as much as Halsin. His body would heat up from exertion, or from absorbing the warmth of his surroundings, but it was rare for his skin to even grow damp. Meanwhile, a prolonged cuddle session with Halsin, not to mention laying with him, inevitably ended with Asmodea lying or sliding in a puddle.

Astarion didn’t mind the heat radiating from the druid, and in fact preferred to wrap himself around Halsin when sleeping, but not possessing his own body heat, this only served to cool the druid down. Asmodea could not boast the same.

A multitude of other little things that once seemed endearing had begun to grate on her nerves as well, of late.

Halsin’s insistence on the orphans being welcome to run rampant through their home, including when she just wanted some peace and quiet. The ever-present aroma of tobacco - she enjoyed it when it was fresh, but after living together it seemed to permeate everything, including all of her possessions. The silent but disapproving sadness in his eyes when he brewed her fertility suppressant teas. The way he always forgot that the automatic pens did not need to be dipped in ink, or his blatant refusal to believe that their wall clock was accurate and reliable, instead opting to judge the time of day by the position of the moon or sun.

Astarion didn’t seem to mind most of that. In fact, his connection with the druid had only grown since their little triad had become official.

At wasn’t as sexual for the two of them – that aspect had always seemed to mostly hinge on Asmodea’s presence. Rather, they took on roles not unlike an old married couple’s - not necessarily approving of, but being resigned to each other’s routines and ways, and finding a quiet comfort in each other’s company.

And a comfort there was, for all of them. Serenity in their closeness. The pleasure of long, fascinating conversations about anything and everything, held over cozy nights. The simple security of being with those who would never cause harm or disrespect (unless they were asked to very nicely, anyway). The sheer strength of sexual attraction. Even if, for Asmodea, it all had never held quite the same spark as it had with Astarion. The same desperate need to love and be loved, needing the other the way one needed air. That part of her had always been Astarion’s.

Though Astarion hadn’t voiced any complaints about the druid, he had taken to frequently grumbling about their surroundings, saying his blades and wits had been growing dull.

He had been losing his mind from boredom. Being confined within a small settlement grated on him. Though reluctantly accepted by the residents, he was viewed as an oddity and was generally avoided. In turn, he was completely disinterested in the town’s affairs and its success. The teaching had become a joyless chore. He was stagnating.

Asmodea lay contemplating all of this in his arms later that morning, once Halsin had gotten up for the day. Increasingly, these thoughts wouldn’t leave her mind. Instead, they had become a constant haunting presence.

“Is everything okay..?” came a murmur from Astarion.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s just… I think…” She hesitated, not knowing how to even begin putting any of it into words.

“You’re no longer happy,” Astarion said quietly.

“Mmhmm,” was all she managed, suddenly finding herself choked up.

Astarion went silent for a short while, before speaking.

“Is it me?” he asked. “Please just be honest.”

“What? No! It’s just… It’s the…” she paused, sighing, before words began spilling out of her. “Halsin, for instance. He’s just so damned good. And so certain in his knowledge, so set in his ways, so adamant about everything he feels needs to be done… And he’s so damned patient, too.”

“All his virtues are an absolute travesty, yes.”

“And in his patience,” Asmodea continued, “he makes me feel like I’m a child that he’s waiting to grow up. And I won’t. Because I’m not. …Does that make sense? ...Fuck, I don’t even know where I’m going with this. And then there’s all this,” she said, gesturing around them, “it was always his. It never became mine, or yours, I don’t think.”

“No,” Astarion whispered.

“I think… I think I just don’t want to be here, and as long as I stay here, I feel like no matter what I do, I’m being unfair to him, or to you, or to both. I don’t know what to do.” Her eyes watered. “I only know how not to be unfair to myself, and that means leaving,” she whispered.

“It’s not working anymore, is it, darling?” Astarion said, giving her a sad smile that made her heart clench.

“You can stay here, if you want,” she said, uselessly. “I can see how close you are.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I want to stay here, much less stay here without you.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and hugged him.

“Where to, then? Back to Baldur’s Gate..?” he asked.

She nodded, wiping at her eyes.

“I think that’s the best option. It’s not that far, we could always write and visit.”

“We could,” said Astarion.

“I’ve had enough of tramping around, I want a place of my own, without any screaming children. And with proper walls. Locked doors. And plumbing.”

Astarion chuckled.

“And whatever shall we do in Baldur’s Gate, besides anything we damn well please?”

“I’ve been thinking about that… We could see just how far our ‘hero’ status can take us, capitalise on that…” Asmodea said, beginning to relax.

“And then? You’re grinning like you already have a plan.”

“More a dream than a plan. Promise not to laugh?”

“No.”

“Well, I’ll tell you anyway. So I’ve always wanted to open and run my own theatre...”

~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this, check out A Night at the Inn and Bloodbang Chronicles!

Find the fic on AO3 as well.

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