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Beautiful commission by @evaporatingvoid Except from Chapter 3: "Barn Full of Goblins"
“Hah! As little killing as possible? And how exactly do you take care of your goblin problems? Ask them politely to leave?” It wasn’t Grimm’s typical style to speak with such sarcasm, but he couldn’t help himself. Really, how else did you deal with a ‘barn full of goblins’? Besides, a little senseless slaughter would feel pretty good about now and allow him to blow off some steam. Maybe desiring a wife and children didn’t mean Claude was uninterested in something casual, Grimm told himself. Maybe he jumped to a hasty and incorrect conclusion. When Claude looked up to him and started speaking he hardly registered what the man was saying as he imagined crushing his body against the barn’s wall and smothering him in sloppy heated kisses while he ground his thigh between the tiefling’s legs.
“Mr. Grimm? Grimm!” Claude’s voice shook him from his reverie. “You know,” Claude continued as the two men approached the barn, where a hell of a ruckus could be heard from a hundred yards away. “Goblins are sentient creatures, after all. People, even. We can’t just… slay them. Not until we see what, eh, level of goblin they’re at. So if you want to start rampaging you’ll have to do it yourself, and I’m pretty sure you’ll have to mop up the mess yourself, too.” It sounded as if a party was in full swing as they approached the massive barn door.
“Your way or my way? It’s up to you,” Claude stated, making a little gesture for his companion to make a choice and lead the way.
“Hmph.” Grimm sheathed his sword to his back and made an overly exaggerated bowing gesture towards the barn. “Your way. If they aren’t convinced, then mine.” He was fairly certain most goblins were at the level of not being reasoned with, but Claude had a point. Maybe he could appeal to them and find success with words; he was clever with them, after all. “After you.”
Claude entered the barn, his every sense violated by a cacophony of stench, noise, and unsavory visuals: screaming, fighting, drinking, probably fucking, chasing pigs and chickens around intricate mazes built out of hay stacks, barrels, and anything else the goblins had been able to get their hands on. There were about fifty goblins total, and it was impossible as of yet to say how many of them were armed. Likely the whole lot of them.
At first, no one paid heed to the two men as they entered. It was not until after Claude clanged the hilt of his halberd hard against a metallic water tub that anyone took notice of them. For a moment, nothing happened. A few goblins then turned their heads towards the duo, and eventually, all of them were staring in their direction.
“The fuck?” A large female goblin yelled, presumably one of particular influence. “What gives!?”
“You’re in a place you well shouldn’t be”, Claude declared simply, not mincing words with this sophisticated bunch.
“Yeah? We just found it and it’s great!” She hollered, followed by a cheer from her peers.
“Certainly. But it’s not yours, and now that we’re here you have to leave. And as we aren’t really interested in negotiating, you can either leave now or have us drive you out with force. Of course, if the place gets trashed beyond repair, it’d be easier for us to just set it on fire with you in it. We desire to have goblins on our land far less than we care for this barn and what’s in it.
Grimm folded his arms across his chest making himself appear imposing. However, he was clearly impressed by how Claude took charge of the situation, as well as by his creative threat. He surveyed the barn, noting that were the goblins to be locked in, it would prove hard for them to escape. The windows were really high up, making a fall likely to break legs or worse.
Claude had half expected the intruders to break into a crazy fit of laughter, so he was surprised to see the leader's eyes narrow into mere slits as she spat on the ground in defiance. “Very clever, pretty boy.” She snarled, “‘Ow ‘bout a good ol’ duel ta settle da’ deal?” She snapped her fingers and out from a stack of hay rolled an ogre; drunk, but massive and holding a hammer that appeared to be made from a boulder in one hand and a grown squealing sow in the other. “If my friend ‘ere stands, y’all get ya posh asses outta our barn! If ‘e falls, we leave.”
Claude stared at the ogre, swallowed dryly, gripped his weapon tighter, and took a step forward as the goblins poured in, forming a circle around the center of the barn. “Not you, ya daft asshole,” the goblin leader screeched. “Yer boyfriend !”
#dungeons and dragons#dnd fanfiction#dnd oc#tusk and horn#claude and grimm#bisexual panic#gay fanfiction#ao3 author#capraqueen#bunnidarling#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic#slow burn#friends to lovers#I just want folks to love these boys as much as I do
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[Averyll in the Knight of Cups for @bunnidarling ]
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Had the pleasure of working on a spicy comish for @bunnidarling
(pst this may be a reminder that all nsfw is on P🔺treon)
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an outfit design for Averyll, @bunnidarling 's lovely boy
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Tender Night ❤️
A commission for lovely @bunnidarling of their bard Avy and Astarion ❤️❤️ Thank you!
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A fragment of the commission for @bunnidarling ❤️
#my art#baldurs gate tav#daddy halsin#bg3 halsin#halsin#tav#elves#bg3 elf#daddy#bear daddy#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate fanart#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate oc
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Alright fic request! (Either reader or named Tav, whatever sparks joy.)
I HC that since Baldurs Gate has such a low population of elves, a lot of Astarion's previous sexual experiences did not involve his ears. They are probably the least "used" (his feelings) part of himself.
Maybe Tav isn't an elf and doesn't know, so they eventually just casually reach out- because they are so cute and Astarion's been OK with casual touches like that now they are in a relationship. But he just flinches away- very uncomfortable and hurt this happened.
Tav is obviously going to apologize and try to accept they hurt Astarion by mistake. Maybe not that night, but sometimes later after Astarion got to see them be sincere about his boundaries (maybe even OK woth him having a "bad" reaction) he puts his head in their lap and asks them to touch his ears in a quiet voice.
Basically a story about navigating rough waters with love.
I finally got to your request! I know it's been a while, thank you for waiting!
Synopsis: Astarion has very sensitive ears, you've never touched them. Until today.
Tags: fluff, Elven language and culture.
Thanks @bunnidarling for beta-reading! Your notes are super helpful!
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Pointy Ears
Moon washes the meadow in silver light. As he sits by the campfire, Astarion's skin looks almost marble to you: white and perfect. You glance at him from time to time to detect a hint of disturbance, that his mind has dragged him to some unpleasant place.
But it seems like he is at peace with himself.
His pointy ears twitch a bit when invisible facial muscles move. They’re probably your favorite part of his body: long and sensitive, with a delightful pinkish hue. The elves, Tel’Quessira, have the most amazing ears.
But you suddenly realize you’ve never touched them. You often massage his scalp and have kissed almost every inch of his body, but the ears remain untouched.
The scars and the bite mark? It took months for him to relax enough to let his guard down. You still remember him muttering “Tav loves me, Tav won’t hurt me” while you were caressing his back. You pretended you didn’t hear that. As for the more intimate parts of his body, you two agreed on an “ask before putting a hand into the trousers”.
But his ears… You are a non-elf, a lesser being in the eyes of elves, and know nothing about them. But you remember how many years ago someone told you “Never touch their pointy ears, they hate it”.
“Astarion.”
Silence.
“Astarion, are you with me?”
Silence yet again. He looks somewhere into the woods, mentally far away from your small camp. Suddenly, his eyes squint and you see anxiety on his face.
Nine hells, again.
It happens to him often. He just sits motionless as if someone has cast a “hold a person” spell on him. He can stay like that for hours oblivious to the world around him. As if his mind shuts itself down. Sometimes he returns, surprised it’s already sunset “I thought it was still morning”, he says.
He describes it as a dark wave that just pulls him under into the nightmare, and he can’t do anything, only to keep drowning.
You approach Astarion and sit behind him. Then you touch his curls, slowly brushing them with your finger.
“I am here. I am not going anywhere,” you whisper. “Return to me, please.”
No response.
You keep caressing his head, intensifying your touches as you try to return him to reality.
And then your fingers accidently brush along his left ear.
Astarion flinches, forcing you to take your hands away.
“I am sorry,” you mutter.
Astarion covers his ear with his palm and stares at you in shock. He looks like a person who has been woken up in the middle of the night in some weird and violent way.
“Did I hurt you? I am so sorry!”
“No… you didn’t…” He still looks startled. “I just… Seldarine… How long have I been like that?”
“Since sunset. It’s almost the middle of the night.”
He snatches his shirt from the ground and puts it on. You still feel guilty.
“Sorry… I won’t touch your ears again.”
“Darling, you’ve touched me in much more intimate places and done much more lewd things to my body than this.”
You blush.
“It’s just… unexpected.”
“I am sorry.”
“Stop it! I hate it when you apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just… Fuck it. I want to take a walk.”
You nod. “Take a walk” means “I want to wander the woods on my own''. Sometimes he hunts small animals and drains them dry. More often he just walks enjoying the freedom of being in nature. Even a person who loves cities would go insane, forced to spend 200 years within its walls.
You are still embarrassed by your actions, so you return to the tent. You are feeling sleepy and doze off on your bedroll hugging a pillow.
You wake up a few hours later when Astarion returns to the tent. His shirt is bloodstained and his trousers are dirty, but he looks happy.
“Good morning, darling”, he kisses you. “It’s sunrise, time for the mortals.”
“Unless they travel with vampires,” you mumble as you sit up, feeling more or less rested. “I see you are in a good mood.”
“I am always in a good mood when I see your face, my dear.”
You scoot over, making more room for him. The tent is small but enchanted with darkness which fully protects Astarion from the sunlight. You would love to spend a couple of days in the inn, but the nearest town has no such place and you have to stay at the camp.
“Listen… about what happened…” He stumbles over his words. “Could you touch my ears?”
You giggle and invite him to sit between your legs. He presses his back against your chest and you wrap your arms around his body.
“You have leaves in your hair,” you say, brushing his curls with your fingers before kissing the crown of his head. “How sensitive are your ears?”
“Very sensitive, he admits. “That’s why… I… we… don’t like unwelcome touches.”
You carefully touch the tip of his left ear, then move your finger along the edge of the shell.
He closes his eyes and smiles.
You get braver and use your other hand to caress his right ear. You lean forward and kiss the tips, and as you do you feel an electric impulse coarse through Astarion's body.
“Why don’t you wear any adornments? You like rings and necklaces, but all the elves I have ever seen wear something on their ears. I mean, I understand why Tel’Quessir don’t pierce them…”
“Darling, never suggest to pierce the ears of the elf, it’s fucking painful.”
“But are there other ways? Without damaging the skin?”
He shrugs. “Never found anything proper I guess.”
He softly touches your finger and you understand he’s signaling you to stop. You press Astarion tighter.
You sit like that for a while in silence before you make yourself return to reality.
“I need to go to the town to see if they have some job for us.”
“I doubt it. We’d better return to the road at sunset,"he said.
“Yeah, this place is unbelievably peaceful.”
“I would say boring”, he takes out a book from his sack and you recognize Gnim, the language of the gnomes. Noticing your stare, he chuckles. “I prefer to know the enemy.”
You kiss Astarion’s cheek and leave the tent.
The town looks sleepy as if its residents exist in some weird world without troubles and worries. The townsfolk look at you with suspicion. Adventurers are rarely guests since there's almost nothing to do.
You ask here and there about a job, but as Astarion said there is nothing to be found. No troubles. No dangers. No reward.
Suddenly something catches your eye: a small building different in style from the rest of the houses. It is more elegant, with intricate runes on the wooden door.
Elven.
You enter carefully, opening the door as if you are afraid you may break it,
It’s a Jewelry store.
There are dozens of rings, necklaces, and bracelets. They are simple and delicate, but you just can’t take your eyes off them.
“Do you want anything?” A golden-haired elven woman waves her hand over the adornments. “Maybe for yourself?”
You shake your head. “I wouldn’t want to wear such things on the road. I will either break them or lose them.”
“Pity. Maybe for someone you care about?”
Astarion would love something like that. No matter what happened to him, he is still an elf. Nothing will ever change it.
“Yes...” You say with some hesitation. “What do elves put on their ears?”
The woman smiles. “We wear ear cuffs. Like these”, she points at her own ear, showing a golden adornment that looks like flowers. “You want a gift for an elf, don’t you?”
You nod.
“Can I ask what kind of bond you share?”
You blush a bit and the elf smiles again. “It’s not an idle question. Elven culture is very complicated”.
“He is my… love.”
She points at the ear cuffs. “Then, this. Only lovers can give such things to each other. Received from a friend or, worse, a stranger, would be considered an insult.”
“Why so?”
“Oh, poor N'Tel'Quess. So bad of him not to tell you such important things.”
You pretend not to understand that the word she’s used is an insult. You speak some Elven.
“And how important is that?”
“Have you wondered why elves don’t like their ears being touched?”
“Because it hurts?”
Her laughter sounds like bells chiming. “The same way lovemaking hurts when nonconsensual.”
Fuck.
“It’s intimate. Even lovers sometimes don’t do it because they don’t fully trust each other. We allow this only to our aestara, our thiramina.For us, it’s a form of sex. But even regular sex might be less intimate. So, tell me, does he allow you to do that?”
“He did let me do this… today. For the first time. ”
“Then, give him an ear cuff. Choose.”
They all look equally beautiful and you try to picture Astarion wearing them but nothing is quite him. There are smaller and larger ones, golden and silver. Some resemble flowers, and some are more like stars.
Noticing your confusion, the shopkeeper sighs.
“Tell me about him.”
“He… is very kind. To me, at least. Very brave, but never admits it even to himself. He is smart, can learn a whole new language within a week, and can persuade people to do anything he needs. He can do a lot of things with his hands – embroidery, lock picking, you name it. But… he’s been through a lot. His past is very dark and he is still overcoming it, learning how to be with people, how to live this life.”
You carefully avoid details, trying to sound as vague as possible.
“It’s called srinna. The one who tests limits and establishes new boundaries.”
“Yes, it does sound like him”
The woman hands you a metallic ear cuff. It is simpler than the others but you notice small details like crescents and birds. It will look nice with his curls, you think.
You pay and as you leave the elf laughs again. “If I were you, I would scold him!”
You return to the camp at sunset. Astarion is still inside the tent engrossed in the book. He hasn’t been through too many pages. Gnim is difficult for someone who can’t stand its speakers.
Astarion smiles joyfully as he notices you. He always looks like this when you return. Pure happiness.
“So was I right about these peaceful people?”
“Yes. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t I tell you what?”
“About your ears! The elven jeweler gave me a lecture about them! You could have at least explained this to me before I embarrassed myself!”
He disarms you with his puppy eyes. They say: ‘Oh, darling, you can’t be really angry with me, can you?’
“Stop making that face. You know I can’t resist it!”
Astarion sighs. “My apologies. Never really took it into account. But yes, touching ears is a form of showing affection.”
You take out the ear cuff and hold it out to him “I’ve brought a gift for you.”
Astarion puts the book away and takes the cuff. He is silent and you are afraid he doesn’t like it.
“Srinna”, he says. “The one who establishes boundaries. Thank you”, Astarion doesn’t try to laugh it away or mask his emotions. His smile is goofy and sincere; he rarely shows it even to you.
“Put it on!” you encourage him. “I want to see how it looks!”
“You’ve given it to me. You must put it on, not me.”
You lean to Astarion and carefully adjust the adornment to his left ear. To your surprise, it fits perfectly and doesn’t show any indication it can fall off. You think it must be easier to lose regular earrings than elven cuffs.
“How does it look?” he asks.
“Gorgeous.”
He cups your cheeks and kisses you. You feel like floating, forgetting about everything. You touch his ears and caress them with your fingers. Then he lets you go and presses his forehead against yours. “Salen arivae.”
“Salen means ‘my’, what does “arivae” mean?”
“Sunshine”, he answers after a short pause.
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Seldarine - Gods! N'Tel'Quess - not people. A derogatory term referring to non-elves. Aestar- love Thiramin - soulmate
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati
#astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#astarion romance#bg3#astarion bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion x tav#astarion fluff#astarion ancunin#astarion fics#astarion x reader#astarion fanfic#spacebarbarian fics#dnd elves#astarion headcanon#astarion gn!reader#astarion x you
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soft kiss for @bunnidarling 's tav
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Loving Him
༺Synopsis ༻ You and Astarion are out travelling the world. Tonight you decide to spoil him with your attention.
༺Pairing ༻ Astarion x F!Reader
༺Warnings ༻ 18+ , fellatio, vaginal sex
༺Word Count ༻ 1820
Thanks to @bunnidarling for the Beta.
The sun was fading, pinks and oranges playing prelude to lavenders and indigos, then the velvety black finale of the night. A night of rest, you thought contentedly, just the two of you and this lovely little clearing you'd found to camp in.
Normally, you would stay at what inns would have you, but you'd been between towns when daylight grew near. Just off the road through the woods you found a small, oddly shaped, clearing that was level enough so that you wouldn’t be sleeping in a mud puddle. “Do you think you can handle sleeping outdoors again, or are you too used to the luxury of a real bed?” Astarion had teased as the tent went up in the last hour before dawn.
“I wasn’t the one who whined endlessly about it,” you shot back with a grin. Neither of you loved roughing it, but it happened sometimes on your journey across Faerûn. Thus, you’d dug your supplies out of the modified Bag of Holding that Gale had gifted you, and made camp. It was an extremely useful gift, modified into a small backpack one of you carried while the other carried a mundane pack with essentials you might want to access with ease, the Bag could be a bit tricky for finding things quickly.
Though, you couldn’t complain as it also allowed you to indulge in a bit of luxury: a carpet spread out near your fire dappled with large cushions to lounge on, where you sat in nothing but a thin nightgown. The tent you shared bore a similar enchantment to the bag, making it larger and more luxurious on the inside, the cots and blankets disappearing easily into it as it was taken down. Tonight you’d spread out your cushion nest by yourself while Astarion tranced. It was a habit of his to wait until the last few hours before sunset, remaining awake throughout the day, either in your tent or wherever you’d found to stay.
You were nocturnal yourself these days, staying up past dawn to visit markets that weren’t open at night and make any necessary arrangements, and finding sleep sometime after. Astarion would usually cuddle up to you until you drifted off, and then return to your side to trance. Today though, you’d had trouble sleeping and come out to enjoy the evening, watching the sunset.
As soon as the light faded, your vampiric love emerged from the tent. It was a rare sight to see Astarion not looking perfectly put together, one only you were so regularly privy to. Curls disheveled, eyes hazy with sleep, he stood in the moonlight in nothing but a night shirt that came down to mid-thigh. “Good evening, darling,” he purred, voice thick and sultry.
Heat came instantly to your core just looking at him. Tonight was a night of rest, such urges shouldn't go to waste. “Hello my love,” you crook a finger and beckon him toward you, a sinful smile on your lips.
His crimson eyes light up, knowing you were up to something. Astraion’s reclaimed bodily autonomy had led you to finding ever greater physical pleasures in each other. Rising from the cushion you leaned on, you settle on your knees before him. “May I?” Your gaze peers up at him through your lashes to find his eyes already hooded and dark.
“Go right ahead, you sweet little thing,” he invites, urging you on. If only he knew what you were thinking.
The first touch of your lips is against his inner thigh, and you feel him shiver as they continue up his pale skin. Your teeth sink into his soft flesh in their wake, leaving little red marks blooming on him. He groans and you want to leave the kind of marks that would last, dark and beautiful, but you had other things on your mind.
Pushing the night shirt out of your way, you reach your goal, his cock, already starting to stiffen for you. Gods, was there a more glorious sight in all the realms? You look up again, asking without words. “Don’t leave me waiting love,” he breathes, betraying the effect you were having on him.
Grasping him in one hand, you stroke gently as your tongue darts out to lick along the sensitive underside of his member. His hitched breath spurs you on, and you lavish your tongue over him, long strokes, drawn out teasingly over the sensitive head, emerging from his foreskin.
The temptation is too great to resist and you greedily take all of him into your mouth before long, pushing yourself as far down his length as you could without gagging. Your reward is a moan that leaves wetness blooming between your thighs. A hand tangles in your hair as you start to move, taking him again and again to your limit.
The feel of him bumping into the back of your throat is always delicious, but you need more. You let him slide from your mouth to a disappointed sigh. “Lie down, I want you to just let me do everything,” you gesture to your abandoned cushion, “and get that night shirt out of my way.”
“Feisty tonight,” he smiles down at you, but acquiesces to your whim. Typically, it was Astarion who took charge of your intimate moments, guiding you, instructing you, dominating you. But tonight, you want to lead, to let him simply experience pleasure.
The night shirt is carelessly flung to the ground, leaving you with an uninhibited view of that body you’d learned to crave. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, holding back a hungry noise. Astarion settles himself down onto the cushion, his thighs spread enough to leave a perfect space for you. “You’re going to spoil me if you do all the work.”
“Hush,” you scold, pulling your nightgown over your head, and letting the cool evening breeze tingle your skin. Astarion makes an appreciative sound and you turn to find his eyes devouring and can tell he’s fighting the urge to grab and push you down to the ground and have his way with you. He’ll have to wait for that.
You don’t leave the space he’d made for you empty for long, kneeling between his thighs and lowering yourself until your lips wrap around him and one hand encircles the base of his cock. Sucking, you work him both hand and mouth, bobbing up and down.
No longer holding back, the night is filled with his little sounds of passion as you worship him with your mouth. Invariably, hands wrap back into your hair and he tries to thrust up, to take back control. Your free hand pushes him back down and you leave it resting on his hip, a warning you could stop if he doesn’t behave.
Drool dribbles over the corner of your mouth as you're once again taking him to the back of your throat. The salty taste of precum tingles your tongue as you press it as hard as you can against him. The hand on his hip traces it’s way down his thigh, nails lightly skimming his skin, then back up, traipsing along his stomach, to his chest.
In your mouth, his cock gives a little twitch. Too close, you pull off. The audacious bastard has the nerve to whine. Your hand wraps around him and you stroke a few times, not enough to alleviate what he’s feeling. “What’s the matter love?” You lock gazes with him from where you're still kneeling between his legs, daring him to try again to take the lead.
Eyes hazy with lust, he pants, and words mix with incoherent noise. “You - absolutely maddening - tease.”
“Should I stop?” You release him and sit back, hands resting on your thighs.
An actual growl slips from his throat and he begins to sit, reaching for you. Hands on his shoulders, you push him back down to the cushion. “None of that.”
How willing he’s been to play along surprised you, and it continues to as he yields, laying back down. “Just relax, enjoy this.”
Straddling his thighs, you nudge them back together, no doubt he can feel the heat and wetness of your core as it rests on him. Leaning down, you plant a searing kiss on him, lips parting and tongues entwining. Your grip still firm on his shoulders, you kiss your way down his neck, biting and sucking until a proper mark forms. His purpled skin is gorgeous and you kiss it again before moving on to leave another. Cool fingers dig into your hips but nothing more as he moans softy at your attentions.
Hips slide over his, his cock running the length of your drenched slit. “Fuck,” he whispers, breath tingling your ear, and you can’t wait another moment. Reaching down, you roll your hips, and guide him inside you, whimpering when at last you’re filled.
Sitting back up straight, you move, hips grinding against his, and delicious friction filling you. “Gods,” you moan, he’s not doing anything and this man can still undo you.
“My beautiful girl, you ride me so good,” fuck him and that mouth of his. “Can I touch you sweetheart, please?”
That hadn’t been your plan, but his soft plea along with the maddening feel of him inside you crumples your will. “You may,” you barely manage.
He doesn’t need more encouragement for his fingers to quickly find your sensitive bud and begin rubbing rough circles over it. You’re both too far gone for gentleness, and you relish the firm touch. Pace quickening, you lean down, hips moving at a brutal rhythm, so badly you want to bring him to climax, but those masterful fingers have had their way with you and soon you’re close.
He can tell by the scent, he’s told you, and the way your pulse beats, exactly when you can’t stand it anymore. “Go on love, come for me.”
With a keening sound, you give in, clenching around him, still rolling your hips. “Astarion,” you moan, almost unable to keep moving.
Pulling you down, he finally wrests control from you, and fucks up into you with maddened thrusts. “My love, my sweet darling girl, you’re so good to me.” He stiffens and gasps, lips finding yours as his release fills you.
Collapsing down onto his chest, you lay there in a warm daze, Astarion’s arms wrapping around you. “This was quite the enjoyable turn of events,” you feel his lips in your hair. “Though you’ll have to try harder next time to keep in control.”
“Do you ever shut up,” you huff and try to glare up at him from where you lay.
“Only when you make me,” he teases only to be cut off by your lips on his.
The two of you fall silent and rest in each other’s arms, you’ll need to gather your strength if you’re to try this again.
Tag list, DM to be added
@micropoe10 @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21
@tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin
@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly
@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird
@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon
#astarion#bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion x reader#baldurs gate 3 fanfic#x reader#my fanfic#my writing#astarion x tav
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Nice sunny day on the beach
For @bunnidarling and @thatcerealkiller
#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate tav#baldurs gate fanart#baldurs gate oc#digital art#digital illustration
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sketch comm for the lovely @bunnidarling 💙
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Art by @evaporatingvoid
Except from "Welcome Company"
Grimm listened thoughtfully, watching Claude’s expressions and gestures as he told his story. He was so wrapped in his narration he didn’t notice the few times Grimm’s gaze lingered over his plump lips. When he caught himself he would quickly direct his eyes back up. “Sometimes it feels as though the world was made for elves and man and the rest of us have to spend our lives proving we are not ‘monsters’. Your quest is a noble one.” Gods, he didn’t want to talk about himself. He didn’t really care to talk at all. He craved more of Claude’s stories and his silky voice. “Before I was born, something happened to my parents. I’ve been looking for more information to lead me to those answers, or at least to the people I can ask more questions to. Maybe there will be more answers at The Gate. I didn’t have any luck in Candlekeep.” He felt heat rise up in his face as he had the intrusive thought to push Claude back on the hay to discover what other kinds of sounds that beautiful voice could make.
Claude continued: “So you’re telling me you’re… all by yourself? No family? That’s… Rough. You know, what I can offer is not exactly fun by any means, but I’m not looking to use you as free labor or the like. It’s more of a kind of ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ deal. If you’d be interested in that. I’ve been without sane company for so long I’ve started talking to squirrels and birds.”
“It simply is. I don’t lament it, but I am curious.” Grimm laughed then, an honest to gods laugh that sparkled in his eyes, “That isn’t difficult to imagine. I am happy to assist as I am in your debt. And you sell yourself short. Your company is quite enjoyable.”
A proper shiver traveled up the paladin’s spine at the sound of a hearty laugh rolling off his lips, it was somehow a little odd to hear such a thing from a laconic, even-tempered man like him; but all the same it was positively lovely. And it also seemed that there was no sweetheart waiting for him at all.
Claude’s mother’s greatest wish was for him to eventually settle down and carry on their bloodline. For that, he knew he needed to have a woman. And women were fine enough. So the young tiefling had aimed for women since he discovered that thinking of other people naked could make your dick hard. Even though men had always been equally capable of making him hard. Like this man right now. Hells.
“Okay, so you’re a man with a mysterious past,” Claude declared with a rather cunning smile. “And you’re not… hired by anyone? Not in any guild? I pray to Tyr and follow his ambitions. And you are right, it’s not a world for the likes of us. Speaking of which,” he continued in the same breath, “please ask me to shut it if I’m overstepping, but surely you are not pure orc? I might be mistaken, of course, but it’s pretty obvious from your, um… Features.”
“Am I mysterious?” Grimm asked with a bemused smile, “I suppose I am, even to myself sometimes, really.” He plucked up a piece of hay and set it between his teeth, “My features? Whatever could you mean?” He let the tension hang in the air enjoying the color that crept across Claude’s cheeks before chuckling a bit, “No I don’t think I’m pure orc, though whatever the rest of me is I haven’t a clue. I was adopted as an orphan to serve as an apprentice to a smith. He told me that the woman he purchased me from said my mother was an elven noble that had an affair with one of her guards, but it sounds like some kind of fey spun tale, if you ask me. Likely nothing but a peasant woman’s fancy.”
“But elf, you know, it makes sense,” the tiefling said, his voice betraying his excitement. “Since you know, elves are said to be...” He cleared his throat again. Grimm noted that was something Claude tended to do when he was getting flustered. It was cute. “You might be part elf,” Claude said, finally.
“Elves are said to be… what?” Grimm asked, unsure of what Claude meant. He was a little surprised, how easily conversation flowed with his new companion. It was nice. He thought he may have said more in the last ten minutes than he had over the last ten years.
Damn, Claude thought. Ignoring gorgeous men wasn’t usually this difficult. Well, sometimes it was, but not to this degree. Grimm was the perfect image of what he desired in a man: big, strong, comely face but with a certain… gentleness to him. “Pretty”, he admitted as casually as he could muster. “Elves are pretty.”
Grimm pulled a knee up and rested his arm atop it, tilting his head down to Claude with a lofted brow. “Not a word I think I’ve ever heard attached to my name.” He still wore the little smile, and of course, that only enhanced his attractiveness. “You think I’m pretty?”
Get the whole thing here:
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WIP Wednesday
Received this wonderful commission back from Mahtsazizi and decided to post a relevant quote.
Full photo here.
Scene from a future chapter of Remember ye not the former things.
“If you ask very, very nicely,” he counters, “perhaps I’ll feel merciful.” He makes it a point to hover over where she wants him most, eyes locked onto hers; Ban shifts, propping herself up on her elbows to get a better view. “I am not -” she cries out as he admonishes her with a none-too-gentle flick of his index finger against her clit. The pleasure is electric, coursing through her in a mix of surprise and pain that catches her completely off-guard. She sighs, giving in. “Fine. Fine. I need your mouth on me. Please.” Astarion tilts his head at her faux-inquisitively, then flicks the tip of his tongue against her clit as he keeps her spread open for him, a feast ready for the taking; his tongue then moves to her entrance in one slow, teasing motion. She bucks her hips in an attempt to ask for more, but he keeps her mostly pinned against the bed, pressing an elbow down on one thigh and fingers digging into the other. “Delicious,” he whispers, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment. “It would taste better, however, were I to hear you beg for it.”
Tagging @pursuitseternal @cheekylittlepupp @mouldering-casket @marimosalad @brain-rot-central @vixstarria @bhaalbaaby @bunnidarling @bludazey
#astarion#astarion baldurs gate#baldurs gate astarion#bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion fic#astarion x tav#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#bg3 fanfiction#astarion smut#astarion x mc#ascended astarion x f!tav#astarion x you#ascended astarion x tav#astarion ascended#ascendant astarion#vampire ascendant#ascended astarion#bg3 smut#smut writing#wip wednesday
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@bunnidarling 's Tav, Averyll Springheart! To see the full version of Astarion "smashing that cake like a toddler at their birthday party", go to Bluesky or Twitter ! 🎂
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comm about Avy, Ang and Astarion on a train trip to see eggplants and eat some cake 🙏😌 for @bunnidarling and @thatcerealkiller (thank you sm again, guys! ❤️)
(eggplant-less ver here)
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Fancy outfit commission for @bunnidarling ~! Her BG3 Tav - Averyll~
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