#elf ears are sensitive

[thedomesticanthropologist]

Who would love an extremely detailed description of ear massage that they can use for fanfiction (or for personal use?)

I read a few incredible "Astarion has sensitive ears" smut fics and I feel like I can contribute to ear massage information

I'll write it as a platonic mini drabble but I wanted to see if this was info people wanted?

[rotatingremains]

[robsth0r]

Ears Of The Elven (Legolas x Human!Afab!Reader)

A/N: So I had this idea... and I needed to write it out so here it is! I love the sensitive elf ear trope so I of course had to write one too. For the “Afab Reader” that is because there is no mention of gender other than the reader being born female so if you’re transmasc that would work too. Anyways hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut/Lemon (18+), Sex.

Word Count: 1089

Extra: There is some sindarin in this chapter so this is the translation of it; Meleth: Love. Meleth Nin: My Love

Legolas was laying in his bed peacefully slipping away into his dreamland. That was till his eyes snapped open as he felt a finger delicately run over the shell of his ear. A rush of pleasure went through his body and he let a shaky breath out.

"Aragorn wasn't joking." I said, in awe. Legolas and I had been dating for around a year or so and being in this position with me currently holding the most sensitive part of the elves body was something Legolas definitely hadn’t thought would happen. I was sitting next to him keeping a firm yet light grip on his ear.

"Quite sensitive?" I leaned down to whisper into his ear, my warm breath sending sparks up and down his spine causing him to shudder. Legolas raised his eyes to glare at me, his sharp gaze looking directly into my soul. My grin grew wider.

"Let… GO." He growled, trying hard to ignore the feather light finger strokes on his ear and how they were affecting him.

"Hmmm… No." I grinned again, reaching across his head to stroke his left ear. The result left Legolas squirming and breathless. The sight of the extremely horny elf next to me was enough for my heart to skip a couple beats. I wondered how it was to have such sensitive ears.

I continued teasing Legolas's ear lobe before leaning down to press gentle kisses all around his earlobe. Every time my lips touched Legolas's sensitive skin it tingled from head to toe, making goosebumps spread across his arms and legs. His heart rate increased dramatically as I moved lower down his body, kissing him along every inch of the way. When I reached the base of his neck Legolas arched into my touch, letting out a moan. I smiled against his throat and slowly began trailing kisses back up his jawline.

When I got there Legolas opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by another groan coming all the way from the back of his throat. I smirked against the side of his face before licking all the way up his long pointy ear, enjoying his gasps and moans.

"Y/n…" Legolas begged, his voice deeper than normally, taking shallow breaths from the pleasure. I hear the warning in his voice but that doesn't stop me. I swing my leg over his chest, securing him under me.

"Gotta say please, Lassy." I chuckled softly and ran my left hand down the side of his torso still keeping my other hand occupied at his ear. I knew the elves didn't like losing control over themselves as it is what elves pride themselves on.

I grinned darkly as my finger reached the tip of Legolas's ear, pinching it lightly earning myself a groan from Legolas. He felt his control snap... thread... by... thread. I hadn't made him lose control even once while we had been together. But if the stories Aragorn had told me about Arwen were anything to go by it could be an interesting night.

I took my hand off of his ear and trailed it down his chest, teasing his waistband. With a flick of my wrist my fingers unfastened it and pulled it over Legolas's hips before slipping his pants down. My hands found his shaft making him twitch. I lowered my head and licked along his length groaning against it and that was enough to make him explode right then and there.

He flung himself up and secured both my hands in a firm grip above my head, him leaning over me.

"If you do that one more time I'm gonna-" He was cut off by a loud moan escaping my throat as I arched my back letting the night shirt I had on fall exposing my breasts. His eyes darkened as his pupils dilated and he lustfully looked down at me.

Before I could react, he thrusted his cock into my warm core repeatedly, kissing and nippling the skin of my breasts. The pleasure was almost overwhelming but just barely, so I grabbed onto Legolas's shoulder to steady myself as I arched my back even more in pleasure. He grunted as he fucked me hard but with pure desire, my pussy fluttering around him.

He reached his hand down and circled my clit, letting small bits of pleasure seep through me. Legolas now kissed my neck, his tongue licking out over my pulse. Legolas’ fingers worked wonders over my clit as he throbbed within me. Legolas took a glance at me and he could see the pleasure trickling into my eyes as he rocked his cock into me.

“Legolas!” I moaned, my head falling back onto the bed. My cunt tightened and wetness flooded around Legolas’ cock.

“Legolas, oh, right there,” I moaned as he fucked into me a bit faster. His thrusts were rough and hard, his nails biting into my thighs gently as he grabbed my legs, spreading me wider so he could get deeper.

Legolas was bringing me so much pleasure that I couldn’t think of any words other than his name. I babbled it, along with a few expletives, about how much I wanted his cock, how I needed him, and eventually, how badly I needed to cum.

Legolas wasn’t far behind me. He wanted to sink himself so deeply into my body that he could never find the way out. Legolas released one of my thighs and pinched my clit. He rubbed it furiously, daring me to cum. His eyes were wild as he stared down at me, beautiful, throaty groans escaping his body.

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Show your prince how good you feel. Cum all over my cock, meleth.” Legolas grunted. He tapped my clit quickly, and with a shout of his name, I came all over him. My body writhed with pleasure as whiteness blinded me. His name fell from my lips, and as he heard me cry out for him, Legolas came inside of me. He filled me with his cum, pumping himself slowly inside of me.

I couldn't get enough of Legolas. I never wanted to leave him.

We both collapsed next to each other, panting heavily as our breathing calmed.

"I love you," Legolas groaned, rolling us around to make himself comfortable spooning me, "Please never leave me." The plea was laced with love and longing and I turned around in his arms. I kissed his forehead gently.

"Of course, meleth nin." I whispered, stroking his hair. "I'm never leaving you."

[stimtfil]

thinking about elf kyle too much.... he is the prettiest thing in the whole world i CAN'T be cool about it.... (neither can eric)

[kazu-goro]

idk man i just think there should be more fanfics of astarion having his ears played with

[specialgrades]

NO BCEACSIE I NEED TO BE SANDWICHED BETWEEN NANAMIN N GOJO FR!!!!!

it'd be a one sided pissing match (not literally) because gojo is cocky and wants to out do nanami— who couldn't possibly care less about gojo's competitive spirit, especially with how tightly you're wrapped around him.

do you think gojo could convince nanami to let him record it? a video of the two of them stuffing your holes full over and over? would nanami ever admit that he jacks off to it when he's not able to recreate it?

[mjtheartist04]

*grabs rika by the ears* Rika the elf

Oop-

[spacebarbarianweird]

[monstersandmaw]

Any backstory on the new dunmer lad? 👀

Was gonna share this photo on Instagram stories and then realised no one on there is interested. One (1) person on here is, so there you go:

This is Næthir, my very grumpy, slightly mud-spattered, bitter dunmer (why do all the elf character design options look so… skrunkly??). Literally 2 seconds after taking those photos he got attacked by a bear and three wolves and contracted bone break fever, so he’s really not having a good day.

I don’t have much for him yet, except that he doesn’t have a home or a family, and he’s been on his own since he was a child. He learned to pick pockets and steal food from market stalls, and he worked as a stable hand for a merchant for a while until there was a spate of thefts at the house and he was accused because he’s a dunmer. It was nothing to do with him, but he was dismissed anyway, which only made him hate humans all the more.

He travelled all the way to Windhelm when he was about 15 because he’d always been told by people that there was a community of Dunmer folk there (usually in a nasty “go join your people in Windhelm, elf” way), but he didn’t stay long because there was so little work and way to make a living there. Besides, it was bloody freezing. He went to Solstheim for a few years and then went south again, crossed the border and was working for a khajiit caravan as a smuggler when he was caught and taken to Helgen. He’s only 19 at the start of the game (as opposed to Lein who is 27), but he’s sour, bitter, and not a very kind person. The only people he is kind to are the homeless children he meets on his travels, and he will always give them what he can to help out, knowing what it’s like to live without a home or a family.

He’s panromantic, demisexual, not super intelligent, but not stupid, athletic, very good at killing things (he’s gonna fit right in with the DB and the thieves guild), is relatively strong with magic (he reads a few spell books from the khajiit traders and learns some basic spells but not much beyond that until he goes to Winterhold), and he doesn’t suffer fools gladly read: at all. He has little time for the racist nords either, and resents the way humans treat him as an elf in Skyrim.

That was cheerful, wasn’t it? He gets less bitter as he grows up and goes through the events of the game, but he’s always got that sarcastic, wry humour and he isn’t very good at making friends. Lydia drives him up the wall, but he likes Serana after a time, and Balimund the smith in Riften is kind to him. He feels most at home with the DB and the Thieves Guild.

[vakarians-babe]

i have a lot of thoughts and feelings about ROP but tbh i will likely not be posting about it much bc for me Tolkien has always been so deeply personal and i want to experience it with as much privacy as i can muster? idk if that sounds weird lmao but i'll summarize some of my early thoughts in the tags and probably promptly not speak about it until it's finished airing.

[dancingbirdie]

For your smut ideas- astarion leaving bite marks on your thighs👀 pretty vampy elf being all possessive👀

Hi, anon! I loved this request, but I have to warn you: I took it to a bit of a darker place than I usually go. Pay attention to the tags, y'all. I hope you enjoy!

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

Your Feral Love

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings/Tags: Biting, descriptions of blood, possessive/obsessive Astarion, marking/claiming behavior, oral sex (fem!Reader receiving)

Summary: Astarion has an intense desire to claim you. This time, it's in places the others won't be able to see.

*****

“Maybe we need to take things slower,” you murmured in Astarion’s ear. You swallowed thickly as he dragged his fangs across the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Whyever would we do that?” he whispered huskily, undeterred from continuing his sensual assault. You shivered as you felt his tongue slide up the column of your throat, unable to stop the little moan that escaped your lips.

“Some in our party are worried… about all the bite marks…” you managed to explain, despite the tantalizing option to just lose yourself in Astarion’s embrace. His cool touch was a balm to the inferno he was stoking within you. The creator of your lust; the only cure for it. 

But his lips withdrew from your neck at your response. Pulling back, he met your gaze with furrowed brows and a glare that could make even Lae’zel balk. 

“Who.” he demanded, his voice strained with barely-repressed anger. “Who had the audacity to murmur about us?” 

His fingers spasmed where they clutched your waist. As if he were bracing for the moment when someone would come and yank you away from him. 

He was possessive, your lover. Astarion hadn’t had anything to call his own for over two centuries. Not a thing. Not a soul. Now, after having lowered his guards and allowed you in, his possessive streak was as long and wide as the River Chianthar. He was never far from your side, even in battle. And on the rare occasions he was separated from you, you could feel the heat of his gaze tracking your every movement. Watching you. Making sure his one claim in this world was safe. Accounted for. 

The bite marks were a consequence of having not only a possessive lover but a vampiric one as well. You didn’t mind, of course. He always asked for your consent. 

Can I bite you here?

Your blood is singing to me, darling. Can I taste you here? 

What about here? Would you let me sate myself here? 

You flourished under the intensity of his love for you. The bite marks were a reminder of that, and so you cherished each one. Each was a memory of the way Astarion had taken, given and enjoyed you. Heat would sometimes color your cheeks and neck later on, when you caught sight of a pair of healing puncture marks, recalling just how they had come to be there, on that particular part of your body. 

But others in your party didn’t share your view of these markings. They, namely Wyll and Gale, were worried Astarion had started taking too much of your lifeblood too quickly. You could understand their concern, to some extent. They didn’t know, didn’t have reason to know, how little of your blood he actually took each night. Most times he would drink barely a mouthful before stopping. The urge to claim you in other ways would overtake his bloodlust, and you would climax again and again as he fucked you into oblivion. He kept his fangs punctured in your skin during times like these, claiming that your blood felt sweeter against them as you found your own release. Only when he had spilled himself in you would he remove them, and by then you were too lovestruck to care how long the markings would remain. 

“Tell me, darling.” 

Astarion’s voice brought you back to the present moment. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts distracting you. 

“...Mostly, Wyll. And Gale, to a lesser extent. I don’t know for certain about the others, although I certainly don’t think anyone comes to our defense…” you trailed off, swallowing thickly. 

You caught how Astarion clenched his jaw at your words. He was livid, that much was obvious. You also surmised his anxiety was likely surging within him, the paranoia suggesting that someone or something would cause you to be taken from him. Again, his fingers spasmed against your waist. 

“...So maybe we should… I don’t know, keep a lower profile about all this? If they say something to you directly, I know I’ll not be able to stop myself from fighting with them,” you explained, clutching his cheek desperately. 

“Tsk. Of course the ones who would have a problem with us would be the only other two who’ve been sniffing after you,” Astarion scoffed.

“What the hells are you talking about?” you asked, clearly confused. 

“Oh, darling. Surely you’ve seen the way they look at you? How they talk to you? I certainly have,” he huffed. 

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay them attention, Astarion,” you reassured him, nuzzling your nose against the curve of his jaw. “I only have eyes for you.” 

“And I, you,” he murmured, pressing his lips lovingly against your forehead. 

You hummed in delight at his affirmation. While you might not show it through bite marks like him, your possessiveness of Astarion was a fearsome thing, too. The emotion sometimes staggered you, even in the most mundane of moments, like when he donned his armor for the day, or when he cleaned his daggers in the firelight. He was yours. You were his. Anyone else was tertiary. 

The two of you remained in comfortable silence for some time, limbs intertwined as you lay halfway on top of him, your head resting against his chest. There was no beating heart within to listen to, but it hardly mattered. You knew that what was there, beating or not, belonged to you and only you. Astarion had said as much, amid previous bouts of lovemaking you had shared in this tent.

Your musings broke at the feeling and sound of his throaty chuckle beneath you. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, surprised. 

“What is it?” you pressed.

“I have an idea,” he smirked. 

“I usually like your ideas,” you quipped, heat flaring in your lower abdomen at the suggestive look in his eyes. 

“Then you’ll surely enjoy this,” he crooned, before flipping you both over all at once so that you were flat on your back, breathless beneath him. He fit perfectly between the cradle of your thighs, your legs parting almost instinctively to accommodate his presence. With one arm, he propped himself up above you, while his other hand clutched your leg to bare you open wider. The position alone had you growing wetter by the second, anticipation for what was to come driving your thoughts wild. 

“Much as I detest pandering to their concerns, I think we both know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fighting with them either, were they to say something directly to us,” Astarion admitted. 

“But,” he continued as his nose skimmed the length of your abdomen, heading further and further south. “I also can’t deny how much pleasure it gives me to mark you as I do… to see the evidence of where my fangs have punctured your lovely skin. Mine. No one else’s.”

You bit your lip in a futile effort to stifle your moan as he began brushing the lightest of kisses against your inner thighs. He slid down lower, his face mere inches from your naked form. This close, you were certain he could smell your arousal. And no doubt find evidence of it as well. 

“So what is your idea?” you managed in a breathy whisper as your hips canted toward him, seemingly of their own volition. 

“How about I mark you here,” he cooed, his fangs sliding along a particularly visible vein that spanned the length of your leg, beginning at your groin. “Where only I can see. A place they can only dream of. A place only I have been.” 

You groaned, skin tingling, nearly electric, in every place his mouth touched. You reached down to card a hand through his carelessly flawless locks, tugging ever so gently on the curls. Astarion growled in response, sending a surge of heat through your lower abdomen. 

You were teasing a livewire at the moment, and you knew it. Just a little push, and you would ignite something truly mind blowing. You chose your next words carefully, readying yourself for the delicious consequences that would no doubt ensue.  

“I’m yours, Astarion,” you whispered, spreading your legs even further for him and clutching his face desperately. “You can lay claim to me however you wish.” 

Another growl ripped from his throat at your words and, in a blink, your lower body was pinned to the ground. His arms banded under and around your thighs to hold you in place, not that you had any desire to move. You whimpered as Astarion nipped and sucked his way across the expanse of skin, his nose grazing your soaked cunt from time to time, causing you to jerk with want. 

“Please,” you begged, desperate to have his mouth on your swollen, throbbing clit. He was so close to where you wanted – no, needed – him to be and yet still so far. 

“Oh no, not yet, darling,” he purred against the plush skin of your thigh. “I’m going to mark you until I’m satisfied first. Then I’ll give you what you crave, I promise.”

You whined, a pathetic little sound, but nodded your assent anyway. Any touch from him was better than nothing, even if it did cause your cunt to ache with a nearly unbearable need.

Then a sudden spike of iciness on your inner thigh had you gasping in surprise, morphing into a long, low moan as you realized Astarion had actually bitten you there. You could feel him sucking your lifeblood into his mouth, your sense of touch being so heightened in your aroused state. 

You lifted your head to watch him move from one place to another as he marked and sated himself. You cradled the side of his head lovingly as he fed from you, swiping your thumb rhythmically across his temple. You were utterly entranced, lost in the delicious feeling of him claiming you, as well as the way he beheld you as he sunk his fangs in again and again across your skin. 

He looked at you with the fervor of a madman. He clutched at your legs like some covetous creature. Drunk on the need to possess, to claim, to mark. It was dark, powerful, and heady. And you absolutely reveled in it, ravenous with want as you witnessed how his love for you manifested in such an incendiary way. 

With a moan of his own, he finally broke from his feasting. Lifting his head to meet your gaze, your cunt clenched at his expression, at his his bloody mouth, grinning widely with purely male satisfaction. 

“It should be a crime, you know,” he rasped, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “How delicious you taste.” 

You whined at his words, desperate to have him taste you in another way.

“Shh, shh. I know, I know,” he crooned, squeezing your legs reassuringly. “I know how you want to be tasted now, darling. Don’t fret.”

Your back arched off the ground as, without another word, Astarion dipped his head to plunge his tongue inside your dripping core. Your mind short circuited as you felt his nose press against your clit with intent as his tongue continued to spear into you. It was almost too much to bear; your nerves already were nearly raw with desire. 

You couldn’t help the wail that burst from your lips as you felt his tongue lick up, up, up, until he was circling your clit with long, languid strokes. You fisted a blanket and bit down on the fabric, the last shred of your self-awareness working like mad to muffle your sounds.

You knew Astarion was too far gone to care if anyone heard you both, as evidenced by the obscene slurping and smacking sounds that emanated from his lips. That alone had you ratcheting up faster toward climax, relishing the way it felt and sounded to have Astarion feasting on you with such utter abandon.

A few more moments of floating in that delicious limbo and then you were crashing back down from the height of your orgasm. It felt like an almost spiritual experience, though no cleric could ever convince you that a god’s love would feel as good as this, as good as Astarion’s love for you.

Panting and shivering in the aftershock of your release, you clutched at him desperately, eager to embrace him with as much strength your jellied limbs could muster. He crawled up to lay haphazardly on top of you, head resting in the space between your breasts. You combed your fingers through his hair lovingly, content to remain in companionable silence.  

“I’m realizing now that I may have in fact gotten a little out of hand…” he murmured against your sternum after a while. 

“Perhaps,” you chuckled. “But I’ll take your feral love over anything else, my star.”

[mooshywrites]

Sensitivity

Where to touch to drive them wild

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Astarion -

~ Ears ~

You began to pepper Astarion’s face with gentle kisses, you couldn’t help but notice the way his breath hitched and his body tensed beneath your touch. Feeling mischievous, you trailed your lips down to his earlobe, planting a soft kiss there before lingering to gently nibble on the sensitive skin. Astarion let out an involuntary groan, his hand reaching to grasp your waist as he tried to stifle his reaction.

“Sensitive ears, huh?” you teased, feeling a surge of affection for the pale elf beneath you. His facade of nonchalance cracked ever so slightly as he leaned into your touch, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. Astarion let out a low chuckle, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement in his voice.

“Not a clue what you mean, pet,” he stuttered, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

You smiled before leaning back down repeat your actions. As you continued to kiss his ear, you couldn’t help but notice a shift in Astarion’s demeanor. His grip on your waist tightened, his body arching towards your touch with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. The playful banter was slowly replaced with burning heat. Astarion’s breath became heavier, his wandering hands more needy.

“Perhaps you may have a point.”

Halsin -

~ Thighs ~

You tried your best to ignore your boredom, sitting silently through the Druid’s Grove weekly meeting. Halsin side to your right, nodding to whatever Rath was saying. You sighed dramatically, laying your hand on your Druid’s thigh.

Halsin shifted slightly as your fingers brushed against his thigh, a fleeting look of surprise flashing in his eyes before he quickly composed himself. His gaze met yours, a hint of heat dancing in the depths of his emerald green eyes. You could feel the tension between you two, a subtle electricity crackling in the air as the other druids carried on with their conversation, unaware of the silent exchange happening between you and Halsin.

You leaned in, your breath whispering across his ear. “Don’t tell me the First Druid is that sensitive,” you teased, squeezing his thigh again.

Halsin's breath hitched at your touch, and he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. His lips parted as if he were about to respond, but no words came out. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red that spread down his neck, betraying the calm facade he usually wore.

Clearing his throat, Halsin shifted away slightly, pretending to readjust his position in the meeting circle. But you could sense the tension rolling off him in waves, his every movement betraying the desire that simmered just beneath the surface. He gave you a half-hearted glare, his voice low.

“If you don’t behave, Oak Father preserve me, I’m not going to make it through this meeting.”

Gale -

~ Neck ~

You set down a fresh pot of tea on Gale’s work desk, planting a casual kiss against his jaw as he studied the book in front of him. You felt him shiver slightly under your touch, turning to you. Before you could pull back, he surprised you by grabbing your waist and pulling you closer, his lips eagerly seeking yours in a heated kiss.

His lips were warm and insistent against yours, sending a thrill down your spine as he deepened the kiss. The tea on the desk was forgotten as your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands. His kiss was demanding yet tender, a mixture of passion and restraint that left you breathless. When you finally pulled away, Gale’s face was painted with a wide smile.

“What on earth was that?” you giggled, landing a peck on his nose.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he grinned.

“Your kiss on my neck seemed to have flipped a switch.”

Wyll -

~ V lines ~

Wyll’s shirt rode up slightly as he reached out to grab a fallen branch, the fabric teasingly exposing a sliver of taut skin. Your gaze was drawn to the hard lines of his waist, a subtle indentation that seemed to beckon your touch. Without thinking, your fingers traced the curve of his V line, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. As your fingertip lingered there, you noticed a slight shiver run through wyll’s body, his breath catching ever so slightly.

In that moment, you realized the effect your touch was having on him.

“Everything alright?” you asked innocently, dragging your fingertips further down.

“Love,” Wyll warned, his hand catching yours.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you met Wyll’s gaze, the tension in the air palpable.

“And if I don’t?” you challenged.

Wyll’s grasp pulled you closer, his eyes heated as your chest pressed flush against his.

“Then I’ll return the favor of your little tease.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

[aw1tht33tha]

Feeling feral enough, darling?

Astarion gets turned into a delicious whimpering puddle (and a bit of a feral animal) with the powerful magic of sensual femdom, pegging and lots of love. Just the way this man deserves.

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Pairing: Spawn Astarion/F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags/Warnings: 18+, BDSM, femdom, power play, bondage, dirty talk, teasing, edging, cunnilingus, blowjob, pegging, rough PinV sex, body worship, sensory deprivation (sight/touch), praise kink, sensitive elf ears, orgasm denial, biting, scratching, blood drinking, high heels, fetish, fluff and sass, two horny sadistic assholes in love, established relationship, more or less cannon compliant, cat in the end

Read on AO3 or indulge right here:

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Astarion’s mind is spinning these instructions on repeat as he opens the front door and enters your deceivingly quiet home:

Take a bath.

Enter the bedroom naked.

Kneel next to the bed.

Put a blindfold on.

Wait.

Surrendering control wasn’t novel for a vampire spawn. However, giving it up fully and willingly for shared pleasure with his lover felt deeply alluring, but a little intimidating still. Astarion is too used to lavishing others with attention and keeping his grip tight on the reins out of necessity, rather than his own desire. But it should be different now. The newfound safety of your relationship gifted him a chance to learn letting go and truly enjoying himself for the first time in what seemed like a fucking eternity.

He feels slightly anxious as he undresses and discards clothes on the floor, crimson eyes locked on a steamy bath with bubbles, prepared lovingly in time for his arrival.

It’s been almost a year since both Cazador and Netherbrain fell to their deaths. The bond you’ve built together since then felt stronger than ever. No masters to serve, just following your own hearts. And yet, worries that pain and disgust may flood back from the depths of his past again gnaw at the back of his mind. He wants this to be perfect. To take a leap of faith and feel good and present, blissed out with you tonight. Free of his demons. For good.

“This is what I want, isn’t it?”

Take a bath.

He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes for a few seconds trying to settle his nerves, then steps into the bathtub to clean off blood, sweat and dirt of his last bounty kill. Warm water embraced his cool body and relaxed sore muscles almost instantly, freeing his mind to reminisce about more pleasant things from the recent past.

Being an adventurous “hero” proved to be a surprisingly fun and profitable pastime, quite deliciously filling too if you happen to be a vampire. “Turns out nobody really cares about the murder… as long as you murder the right people.” Astarion recalls his joke at a party with your group of weirdo friends and it turns the corners of his lips up a little.

He starts making quick and thorough work of getting himself clean with fragrant soap, shampoo and conditioner. Pleasant as it is to soak and indulge in a self-care routine, it seemed just a bit cruel to make you wait for this perfect body for too long.

A few minutes pass and Astarion is out of the tub and sufficiently dried off - damp silver locks falling charmingly out of order and white towel wrapped scandalously low around his hips. He grabs the bathroom door handle confident enough to proceed with the next step.

Enter the bedroom naked.

“Right, naked” – he freezes. With one swift motion towel flies off his lean body to join the pile of its cotton siblings stacked in the corner. He crosses a dark corridor, anticipation starting to build up in his chest. Your shared bedroom reveals itself in all its intimate glory and comfort.

Closed heavy blinds, fresh dark silken sheets on a spacious bed, fluffed pillows arranged in an unusually orderly manner and almost ridiculous amounts of candles bathing the room in gentle warmth, pleasant scents, and dancing lights. So very you and him. The top of the bedside table appears busier than most days, displaying a carefully lined up selection of sex toys and ropes. All quite familiar to Astarion, yet he doesn’t know when and how exactly any of those are going to be used tonight and it is positively intriguing.

The only sound in the room is produced by candle wicks softly crackling in the background. Astarion takes a moment to sink in the atmosphere and looks around.

Kneel next to the bed.

His gaze stops at a big red pillow invitingly laying in the middle of the room close to the bed. A simple black blindfold is resting on top. He circles around and slowly lowers himself down on his knees. No one is commanding a vampire to do so except his own little voice. He yearns for your presence already and picks up a blindfold.

“Curious how we got here,” Astarion thinks as he gently runs his fingers along the soft black fabric, grateful for all the time you’ve spent together up until this moment. How it literally turned his undead life around and made him experience everything he thought was impossible or unreachable. Everything he thought wasn’t meant for him – freedom, salvation, friendship and… love.

Especially love. Somehow, he found himself not only caring deeply for you, but slowly nurturing some love and acceptance for himself. A truly unexpected turn of events.

Put a blindfold on.

The blindfold slides over his beautiful eyes and Astarion finds himself depraved from one of the prime senses to rely on. An exciting image of you invades his mind and he starts wondering if you are going to wear anything at all tonight.

His brain naturally shifts focus to what he can hear, touch, taste, and smell instead.

Your voice. What are you going to ask of him tonight? Will you let him make you scream his name?

Your skin. So soft and warm, he craves to glide his fingers all over your body right this instant.

Your scent. That unique blend of indescribable “you” with a hint of perfume or whatever fragrant skin care you just couldn’t stop stealing from his shelf like the adorable fetishist you are.

Your blood. That sweet life essence you are kind enough to share, keeping him hopelessly addicted from the first bite.

And wait.

Wait for your arrival and then dive into the unknown. Well, not that unknown since you both discussed your desires a few days prior, leaving just a touch of mystery on the details. “Gale of Waterdeep” was chosen to serve as your shared safe word, cause who else possessed an ability to kill the mood faster than a walking encyclopaedia?

This is, without a doubt, the sweetest torture for Astarion so far in the night. Just kneeling still and ready, wondering which of the obscene scenarios generated by his mind in your absence was going to become a reality. He did exactly what you asked him to do already, and he couldn’t wait for more.

It isn’t too long before his head instinctively turns towards the sound of steps approaching the room. A measured, confident pace accentuated by an unmistakable clack of heels meeting wooden boards sends a little shiver up his spine.

Finally.

You open the door without haste and your eyes are met with probably the best sight you could ever imagine:

A devastatingly beautiful elf is kneeling at your mercy, exposed and blindfolded, his perfect marble skin bathed in candlelight. Soft silver locks allowed to arrange themselves with less restraint than usual. His cock is hard for you already, twitching and leaking precum as you take your time to shut the door and take a few steps closer. His chest is heaving in anticipation, those beautiful tender lips parted slightly, both arms digging through his own thighs not daring to touch himself where he is dying to be touched right now.

Astarion looks properly riled up by his own imagination already. Letting him marinate and fight against his own impulsive nature worked even better than you anticipated. You shake off a strong temptation to sabotage the whole scene and dive down to devour him right where he is. It would be a crime to end the session so soon and you find the strength in yourself to stick to your plan of taking him completely apart piece by piece.

“Hello, my sweet,” your flirty voice is barely above a breathy whisper, and he can tell you are saying it through a wide smile without even needing to see your face.

A raspy “I missed you so much,” is all Astarion can manage to reply as his nose catches intoxicating mix of pulsing blood in your veins, arousal building up between your thighs, and surely his own perfume you’ve stolen again as you position your hips mere inches away from his gorgeous face.

“Did you? How about a proper greeting, then?”

You gently raise his chin with a curled index finger and run your thumb across soft parted lips making him gasp and desperately lean into your touch. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his own fingers lightly grazing the pillow, crawling their way towards your feet in the darkness.

“No touching until I say so.” Your warning makes him slightly raise his hands in defeat and put them back on his thighs. He manages to behave while your thumb invades his mouth to meet with a hungry vampire tongue, even when your other hand caresses his neck and jawline in admiration. It’s the feather light tracing of his pointy ear from earlobe to the tip that makes Astarion shudder and send his seeking arms forward again.

No, he won’t be able to keep his hands away from you or himself at this rate, so you stop and take a step back as soon as his fingers make contact with the tips of your shoes. Astarion lets out a soft disappointed moan, his body leaning forward craving any attention you would graciously descend upon him.

“Please, I’m burning to touch you, my love.” He is on the steady path of falling apart already.

Delightful.

“You’ll have your chance if you’re patient enough. Wrists together behind your back.”

He reluctantly obliges your command. You reappear behind him with a short red rope to lean down and restrain him with a simple double column tie. That should take care of his mischievous rogue hands for now and you circle around to face him again.

“Now, where were we?”

Before Astarion has a chance to come back with anything at all, your right foot lightly grazes against his left knee and you drag the blunt nose of your pump up his leg, ghosting over the aching length of his cock almost as if by accident. His abdominal muscles clench and he lets out a shaky sigh, baring his fangs. Observing this man’s reactions to teasing is quickly becoming your new favourite form of entertainment. You rest your foot on his upper thigh applying just enough pressure to make the heel sting slightly, keeping him sitting low.

“You may worship whatever you can reach with your lips.”

He eagerly leans forward, and his mouth starts travelling up your inner thigh kissing, licking, nibbling on your smooth skin like a starved man. Payback time, darling, Astarion thinks reaching that place where your leg connects to pelvis and caressing you agonisingly slow with his firm tongue, so close to your sex you almost wobble. You run your fingers through his white curls gripping firmly to find stability.

Astarion quickly realises you are not wearing any panties, so he keeps on leaving tender kisses and passionate licks all around your folds and clit, never giving you more than his hot breath over the very centre. He knows exactly how to drive you dripping wet and desperate, pussy clenching over nothing. Difference is, he is not really in control this time, so you intend to serve him a reminder and tilt his head back, pulling hard on silver locks.

“I think you’re missing a spot,” you manage in between intensified breaths.

“Sorry, darling. If only I could see what I was doing,” he sounds almost convincingly apologetic, but a tiny smug smile gives him away. Astarion knows exactly what he’s doing to you. He won’t be getting away with anything easy tonight, though… despite his impressive arsenal of ways to melt your body and mind into a whimpering puddle.

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.” You cup his perfect face gently before adding, “stick your tongue out for me, gorgeous.”

Your confident yet warm tone makes him obey before even thinking. This feels refreshingly fun and liberating - not having to think much and simply relying on you to lead this dance to ecstasy however you desire.

You bring his face closer and roll your hips forward forcing his tongue to part the folds and finally get to the most sensitive parts of your sex. A much anticipated sensation hits you almost like a jolt of electricity and you have to dig your fingers in his neck and shoulders to keep your balance.

“Now, be a good boy and make me come.” You push the words out quickly before starting to lose yourself on Astarion’s skilled tongue. He is lapping your cunt devotedly, flexing muscles against the restrains, moaning softly. No toying around, witty remarks or aiding with fingers, just completely lost in eating you out with passion.

It doesn’t take much time for him at all to tighten up the coil of pleasure in your lower belly and for you to release it, holding on to him firmly as your legs dangerously give in to the weakness. Gods below, these damn heels don’t help either and you barely manage to ride out your orgasm not collapsing down.

You take a few moments to unwrap your arms from Astarion and steady your breath a little. “You did so well, my love… giving me exactly… what I asked for.”

As a reward, you take off the blindfold and carelessly toss it on the floor, the elf below you then greedily drags his gaze up your body. You are wearing nothing but high heels and one of his slutty black shirts you shamelessly snatched from his wardrobe earlier. Unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, fabric loosely dripping down your back and ass, it’s not really covering anything in front. His burning eyes meet yours. “Anything for you, beautiful.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Stand up.” 

You take a small step back and let him rise on his feet. Usually, Astarion would tower over you being a few inches taller, but the heels keep you almost the same height letting your eyes level with his. He finds himself enjoying this new perspective.

You let your nails and fingertips gently explore under his jaw, down his neck and over the clavicles. Then you close the gap between your lips inviting Astarion for a heated kiss, tasting your own deliciousness still lingering on his tongue. With his arms still tied he can’t do anything but struggle against the rope and desperately try to melt his whole naked body against yours seeking familiar warmth or any form of friction you would allow.

You decide to give in to this sweetness and lower your hands to pull your lover closer by the waist. Astarion uses this opportunity to push into the kiss even more and grind himself against you, leaving trails of sticky precum all over your belly. It’s too easy to get drunk on his eagerness and you have to peel yourself away before you’re too far gone. There is much more to do after all.

“A good little vampling like you deserves a treat, you know?” You whisper in his ear mischievously as you nudge him to take a few steps back towards the bed.

He sits down watching your every move through a haze of lust. You circle the edge of the bed and sit behind, brushing your lips against his ear as you half-whisper a new command. “I need you to get on bed fully and lay down on your back for me. Can I trust you to behave well and not touch anything you shouldn’t?”

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you hear sincerity in his reply, and set his arms free for now. Astarion wastes no time doing what he was asked to. You ditch your shoes and crawl on top of him straddling his waist. He tentatively lifts his forearms from the sheets anticipating you to restrain him again.

“Well, look who’s finally playing along,” you smile, playfully drawing random patterns on his chest with your fingertips. “Being tied up growing on you?”

“It’s you. Surrendering to you like this is growing on me,” his soft breathy confession travels right to your core. You bring his right wrist up to your lips and kiss it gently.

“Oh, I think you will love what I’m about to do next,” you give him a smug look and stretch the arm you were holding towards the upper corner of the mattress. Reaching under the pillows at the headboard you produce a thick leather handcuff connected to the bedframe with a rope. 

Astarion lets you close and secure it around his wrist with an excited sigh. “Gods, you really planned everything out.” 

You throw him another confident smile and repeat the same steps with the other wrist.

There is now a beautifully splayed vampire on your bed and it’s time for the main course. You shuffle back slightly, spread your thighs and press his legs down with your shins making it much harder for him to move his hips. You lower yourself down and start worshipping his exquisite body, letting your hands and mouth freely explore and trace all his lines and curves. Broad chest and shoulders, sensitive neck and nipples, firm abs, narrow hips – no part is left without your thorough attention. You deeply enjoy discovering every possible reaction he can give you while you caress and scratch, kiss and nibble, lick and breathe down his flawless ivory skin.

His hitched breaths and hisses gradually evolve into soft quiet moans the longer it continues and further down you go. When your arms and hot tongue leisurely reach his hips, your hair and the collar of the shirt start lightly brushing against his aching neglected erection. He can't stay more or less composed anymore.

"P-please, love," his urgent plea makes you raise your head and catch his longing gaze, pupils blown wide.

"Hmm?" You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow, waiting for more elaborate begging.

Astarion doesn’t wait for you to nudge him further. “Please, I need you. Your hands, your mouth, anything...”

"Like this?" You position your tongue at the base of his hard girthy cock and glide it up, savouring his taste, feeling it twitch against your touch. You pay extra attention to the pale pink tip, suckling on it gently and cupping his balls with your hand.

"Mhmm... yes, please… more," his purring approval reaches your ears, and you dive down on his length, taking in as much as you can on the first go before sliding back up and releasing him with a little pop. Astarion is quickly becoming a writhing mess as you repeat the pattern a few more times.

Your movements are slow and deliberate as you alternate between hand strokes, sucking or just teasingly kissing all around his delicious cock and balls. You are not being consistent with your pace or type of stimulation on purpose, attempting to drag out his pleasure as long as possible. It only works somewhat effectively as he is obviously on a steady ascend towards his climax no matter how chaotic you are in toying with him. There is just too much pent-up energy aching to burst out.

His head is slowly tilting back, erection almost rock-hard, and erratic exhales start breaking into moans. This is your cue. The perfect timing. You drop everything you were doing at once and pull yourself up into sitting between his legs, watching him break apart groaning and throwing his hips up in the air, finding nothing to help him finish. He was oh so close and you just denied him the much-awaited moment of bliss.

“Why must you be so cruel?” He loudly whimpers, shutting his eyes and rubbing his feet against the sheets in frustration.

“Cruel, my dear?” You climb over him and slide off the bed to pour yourself a glass of water from the pitcher. “I’m merely serving a fantasy. You know the words if it’s getting too...”

“No!” He interrupts and his wide red eyes meet yours. He adds a much softer, “please continue.”

You take a few sips of water and rest the glass back on a bedside table, inspecting the toys on display. You go for a small bottle of thick lube, a girthy glass butt plug and a strapless strap-on.

“Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? As I recall…”

You theatrically clear your throat to proceed with your best “Astarion” impression as you climb back on a bed armed with new tools to ruin him.

“I want you to torture me with pleasure, darling! Tease and edge me to your heart’s delight. Make me go feral for the sweetest release by the end of it…”

You prop one of the pillows under his ass for extra comfort and position yourself in between his slender legs. Then you gently tap him to spread wide open, knees bent high in the air. You generously coat your fingers in lube and start teasing his entrance and continue quoting him almost word for word.

“I know it may not be easy to achieve, unless you are, well, a seasoned professional like me,” you pause to imitate his high-pitched giggle. “But please make your best attempt.”

Astarion is taken aback by the sheer audacity of you mocking him like that, and can only watch your performance with his jaw open. You bend over and place the weight of your body on his chest getting your lips closer to whisper in his ear:

“…or something like that.” 

Your index finger effortlessly slips inside, earning you his sweet gasp.

There is no rush as you slowly curl your digit inside him, kissing his neck and playfully nibbling on his earlobe. Soon enough, second finger joins the first and you feel Astarion’s calves brushing against your backside as he relaxes into the feeling of being stretched out. You raise yourself on one elbow to find his lips and start kissing tenderly, noses brushing together. You are eager to share just how much you’re pleased with him without any words.

He hums sweetly and wraps his legs around your waist when you carefully add a third finger in and push a little deeper inside. His cock is leaking precum on his abs, twitching against your lower belly.

“I’m so ready for you,” he rasps quietly, and you feel a rush of wetness, igniting your desire to give him everything you can. What did you do to deserve this world-endingly beautiful man melting under you like this?

You raise up and slide your fingers out carefully. While giving his shaft lazy pumps with one hand, you are fitting in the strap-on with the other. Even though a strapless variety is harder to keep in place, you appreciate extra feedback and pleasure it can provide. One more coat of lube for good measure and you are ready to invade his body again.

Taking it very slowly you line up the tip of your strap with his hole and dive in inch by inch, sending shivers up his spine. You give him a couple of seconds to adjust and then push under his knees encouraging Astarion to practically fold in half as you choose your preferred angle. Time to clench your pussy and get to work.

You are rolling your hips in rhythmic deep thrusts and manage to snake one hand in between your bodies to stroke him as well. The end of the strap within rubs deliciously against your tense walls. Sweet praises leave your lips as you fuck him gently.

“Such a good boy, taking me so well.”

“You look breathtaking just like this.”

“I love making you feel good.”

Doesn’t take too long until Astarion is reduced to sweat and loud whimpers, eyes shut and completely lost in his own world of rapture. He is about to fall over the edge at any second, arms grasping at the ropes that hold him in place, legs wrapped around your waist. You are not too far behind yourself and it's extremely tempting to just keep on going until it shatters you both into pieces.

You listen closely to his telltale signs not to miss the right moment. And then you pull out and break away from him. Again. This time he almost flies off the sheets after you. The whole bed frame shakes at his attempt to escape his restraints and chase you.

“Feeling feral enough, darling?” You pant heavily and toss aside the strap, brushing away strands of hair stuck to your face. A growl and flash of fangs is all you get as a reply.

“Shhh.. shh.. I just want to feel you inside me as you come undone.” 

It almost feels like you are approaching an injured tiger as you try to get through to whatever humanity is still lingering in his brain.

“Allow me?” You show him the glass plug and he stills just enough for you to glide it inside, giving him at least some feeling of fullness back.

“Last thing I’m going to ask you to do…” You reach to free Astarion from leather cuffs while he practically burns holes in your face with a smoldering stare. “...is to fuck me however you want.”

You free up his right arm and he grabs your shoulder immediately, scrunching his own shirt roughly. Before you can even process what happened, you are pinned down on your back and have to somehow reach your arms from under him to get his other wrist. He is pushing your thighs apart urgently, lining himself as your fingers clumsily fiddle with the buckle on the other cuff.

Astarion shakes the damned thing off and holds you down in a squeezing embrace as he drives himself into your dripping wet pussy with a single powerful thrust, burying himself up to the very hilt. That hip-slapping entrance makes you see sparks and hold on to his back for dear life. Right away he sets a fast and punishing pace that makes the corners of your eyes water from intensity. His head drops to nuzzle your neck and send hot shaky breaths into your bare skin.

There is no holding back. Nothing, but pure animalistic lust as he rails you with vengeance. The sensation of being fucked helplessly like this is overwhelming and you feel him all over your sensitive spots, stretching you deep and to absolute capacity. Your legs start trembling and you are digging nails into his scarred back as he bites down on the curve where your neck meets the shoulder. And this mutual exchange of piercing pain is all it takes to finally finish you both.

You’ve never felt or heard either you or Astarion come so violently until tonight. Waves of orgasm hit you both like a screaming tsunami. If his undead vampire heart was still beating it would surely leap out of his chest right there and then, as he was spilling everything you made him hold back inside you, arms gripping even harder, fangs sinking deeply.

For a few moments it seems like you have merged into a single entity – one body and soul in a state of absolute incomprehensible mess, riding high on your climactic waves. When it’s over, you both are slowly coming back to your senses. Astarion carefully retracts his sharp canines from the wounds that guarantee to leave bruises and starts gulping your blood. His grip also softens, and you both enjoy the intimate closeness of him feeding on you for a bit, steadying your breaths. He laps and licks your puncture wounds, drawing just enough blood to make you feel a little dizzy, while satisfying his own urge to taste you.

“You alright, my love?” He is the first to check in, searching your eyes with a smidge of worry as he realises he may have been a little too wild, even by his own unhinged standards.

“I am great. This was incredible,” you manage a tired but happy smile and lazily run your fingers through his unruly curls while he pulls out of you, gets rid of the plug and tosses all the toys back on the bedside table. “How do you feel?”

“I’m not even sure how to put it all into words yet. It was liberating? Intense? Ecstatic? Certainly fun! I’ve never experienced anything like this before. You were amazing, thank you“ Astarion melts your soul with the softness of his gaze. A little pause and then it turns a little naughty. “And I will be asking for more. Although, we have to do something about your cute obsession with stealing my things before it gets out of hand.” He slightly tugs on the collar of his shirt you were wearing this whole time and smirks. You chuckle at his glowing review and pepper his face with small kisses.

Next few minutes are spent side by side cuddling, joking and whispering sweet nothings to each other, refusing to let go just yet.

“Darling, just how many lovers did you have to go through to get this good?”

“Not as many as you had to. I’m a natural, you see.”

“Oh, are you now?”

He purrs the question in your ear and playfully rolls on top, caging you with his limbs only to freeze a mere inch away from your lips, his face looking like he just remembered something mildly concerning. 

“Where is His Majesty?”

“Oh shit, I locked him in the kitchen to spare us his judging gaze.”

“You did what?!”

“Hold on, I’ll let him out.”

You almost jump out of his embrace and quickly disappear to free the forgotten cat. A few loud disapproving hisses later that smug hairless bastard enters the bedroom like he owns the place, you are merely trailing behind. His Majesty gracefully leaps on a bed wasting no time to curl up next to his favourite elf. Astarion may be the only person in the entire Faerun, you are convinced, who somehow found a way to tame that ball of absolute feline sass.

“Natural, she says. Can you believe that woman?” He coos and kisses the cat's forehead.

His Majesty throws you one last glance before melting into Astarion’s hands as you crawl back under the blanket. You can’t help but adore these two cuddling in the most sickeningly sweet way possible. Even when these brats are seemingly plotting against you. 

The last candles are blown out and the sunrise is fast approaching as all three of you settle to rest in one pile of blissful comfort, saving any worries, big or small, for later.

[darkenedurge]

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐭.

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CONTENT : Fem/Elf Tav | Subby Rolan, but then he gets a little more confident muahaha | Tail Play | Heated Make-Outs | Messy Confession | Fingering (F Receiving) | P in V Sex | Rip Lorroakan (fuck that bitch) | Creampiiieee 🥧 | Tiefling Tail Head-Canons (ofc)

A/N : i’ve been wanting to write rolan for so long idk why it took me forever but AGH here we are i <3 tieflings

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Rolan's head is reeling. Thoughts, realisations, spinning within the cavern of his skull. Lorroakan, gone. And, he owes thanks yet again to his 'valiant' hero. To which, he raises his head – lips, parting to speak.

Yet, not even a breath escapes him – not before he's barrelling backward into a bookshelf, hands grasping at his robes, and lips upon his own. Her lips. The lips he'd dreamed of for so long, lips he'd yearned for – yet so painfully denied himself.

Her tongue isn't patient, as impatient as she, winding its way into his mouth with a soft noise of satisfaction. In turn, he whines, hands reaching to grapple at any part of her he could blindly reach – clawing at her hips, drawing her nearer.

She rolls her hips into his, arousal coiling within his abdomen, and he has to muster all that he has to break for air – instantaneous in his mourning at the loss of her lips, her taste.

"What are you.. doing..?" Is all he can manage, in a panted breath, a string of saliva still connecting them – his gaze, hazy with desire, as he peers at her through half-lidded eyes.

"Something I should've done a long time ago," She replies, blunt, simple. Her hand brushes a strand of hair back, away from his face, touch uncharacteristically gentle in comparison to what he'd just witnessed – "I really like you, Rolan."

He almost laughs. In fact, no, he does laugh – a small, quiet huff of amusement. "I think we've established that," He quips, snarky as ever, "But for what it's worth, I like you too. A lot."

A brief pause. His eyes dart from corner to corner. Flitting between bloodshed, books and..

Her companions are nowhere to be found. To that, he internally, mentally, breathes a loud, genuine sigh of relief. She notices, a coy smile playing at her lips, her fingers dipping beneath his robes – fingertips cold, against the harshness of his warmth, bumping over the ridges that decorated his skin. Rolan feels a shiver crawl up his spine, eyes fluttering to a momentary close, as a shaking, uneven breath ghosts past his lips.

“So, are we going to finish what we started?” Comes her voice, Gods her voice, once more – the words purred against his ear, her teeth grazing his skin. He’s unable to swallow the whimper that fights its way out, chest notably heaving, “My ears are s– ahh.. sensitive..”

She hums, hand seeking purchase in his underwear, but lingering just above the waistband – awaiting consent. “I assumed as much,” She murmurs, “Elven ears are only the same..”

“So, I’m your first tiefling?” He asks, voice dipping to a low, rasping hum, as he guides her hand to his cock – hips stuttering as her hand began teasing, languid strokes, thumb paying mind to the ridges that adorned his shaft – alongside bitterly teasing the tip with clear intent. He moans. Pitched, and unrestrained.

“First, and last.” Is her reply, brows knitted in concentration as she peers down at her own working hand, wrist expertly twisting, earning further, mewling whines from Rolan’s mouth.

Rolan’s own, fickle, fantasies paled in comparison to the reality that had now so graciously dawned upon him, his thighs tensing with every pump of her fist.

“So sensitive,” She muses, and his hands grapple for the bookshelf behind him, “I wonder if your tail is the same..”

“Don’t–!” Rolan gasps, but his fragile warning is cast upon deaf ears, her spare hand already pinching the tip of his tail between her thumb and forefinger. He yelps, spilling over her hand with trembling of his thighs.

“Oh,” Her tongue swipes over her fingers, before they sink into her mouth, tasting his seed – “Very sensitive.”

The after-shock of Rolan’s orgasm blurs his vision, whirls his head. So much so that he hardly, if at all, processes her movements – the disappearing of his tail, within the caverns of her mouth, slick with saliva. It’s not until her cheeks hollow, and a spasm of pleasure writhes through him, earning a waned whimper from the back of his throat. “Don’t– I can’t, I– too sss–sensitive..”

Rolan tugs, his tail pleading for exit – her jaw falls slack, brows arched in question. He has to catch his breath, and he does so; though, incredibly unsteadily. Meekly.

“I’m sorry,” His hands, without forewarning, toy with her armour – a silent begging for her to be rid of it, bloodshed and all, “I can’t cum again, not unless it’s inside of you.” She blinks, still and unprepared for the first time since the mere moments ago that their encounter started. Her senses, however, are swift in their return – and she peels off piece after piece, revealing every curve; every freckle, every shred of skin that Rolan could only have ever dreamed of touching, tasting.

Rolan’s robes are much less hassle, and to a silent God he offers his thanks for it. Stripped bare in front of one another, silence offers it’s blanket. It’s her, who moves first, fingertips dancing from his shoulders, right down to his knuckles. He notices the faintest of smiles playing at her lips, adoring in its nature. With a swallowed breath, Rolan outlines her waist, her hips, thighs, ass, with his hands.

“You’re warm,” She states, softly. He hums, and with a sharp pull on his behalf – their bodies are pressed flush. Wordlessly, she’s lead backward – thighs hitting the edge of something hard, sharp, earning an expel of air from her mouth. A desk. Lorroakan’s desk.

With a grunt of effort, she was splayed before him – upon the wood of the desk, his tail wound around her leg, spreading her open with gentle encouragement. His fingers press to her lips, and she understands – tongue swirling, wetting them. With a ‘pop!’, the digits are released – sinking impatiently into her pleading, begging cunt. Rolan gasps, her cunt hot, and tight around his fingers, as they slid, in, out, in, out. He curls them, and her head is thrown back. Thumb, paying mind to her neglected bud, circling it.

“So wet,” He murmurs, not toward her in particular – more so, a thought that had accidentally been uttered aloud. Regardless, he doesn’t regret it. No, her reply only makes him wish he’d said more.

“Because it’s you, Rolan.” She whines.

Gods, he couldn’t wait anymore. She groans, at the absence of his fingers, and he shushes her. “So greedy,” He mewls, “Even when you’re about to get exactly what you want.”

The inside of her greets his cock far differently in comparison to that of his fingers. She clenches, near immediately, and blissfully so. His hips are steady at first, cautious. Until they’re not, her hands finding his in an act of desperation, as his hips piston at an impossible pace – her hips rolling in tandem with his harsh, needy thrusts. Lewd sounds encapsulate the room, skin against skin, raw noises ripped equally from both of their throats. It’s heaven, if such a place truly exists.

Delirious, Rolan barely registers, notices, the premature arrival of his orgasm crawling up his spine, strumming his nerves. A guttural, cracked moan is yanked from his mouth, and he spills inside of her – eyes blown wide. “I’m sorry,” His nose, buries in the crook of her neck, “M’sorry.”

He feels the shaking of her head, light and affectionate, against him. “It’s alright,” A kiss, tender as its pressed to his hair, “I wanted you to.. I’m yours now.”

“Mine.” The word, singular, is spoken through a hidden smile.

[feyascorner]

As most of us know elf ears are very sensitive so imagine Tav making Astarion ear muffs for the winter?? At first he’s like “no it ruins my hair !!” but once Tav manages to get them on him he’s just??? “wait a minute…” and now he doesn’t take them off wherever he goes lol. actually hisses when you take them off of him.

ofc this leads to tav making him mittens, scarves, fluffy socks, all that jazz. he looks like a 70 y/o grandmother by the end and walks around with a quilt or something wrapped around him.

[littlejuicebox]

Do you miss it, little love?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: 10 years post BG3. Follows my HC for Astarion redemption arc. This is timed a few months after the elf turns mortal. For more info, see “The wish spell worked.” But never fear, you can read it as a one shot if you’re new around these parts.

Rating/Warnings: M, 18+ only, soft smut, fluff, PiV, light breeding kink vibes, light overstim, CW kinda?, soft Astarion

Word Count: —

A/N: They’re so in love guys. Crying in the club.

*

Warm, slender fingers trace a line across the fang marks on your neck. A single reverent kiss is placed upon the two tiny dots, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

Ten years of memory is a long time. Even though fangs will never be inserted into those small notches again, the mere suggestion of the act is enough to cause your sex to clench. It’s practically an instinct by now; biting and lovemaking had been so intertwined for years.

The sensation of your walls quivering causes your lover to buck his hips forward, burying himself entirely within you. A soft moan escapes his lips as he watches you through thick eyelashes. His face is illuminated in an amber glow by the candles flickering around your bedchamber; his hands are pressed into the silken bedsheets.

He’d just bathed not long ago. His hair is still partly damp and he smells so strongly of his signature scent.

He smells like comfort. He smells like safety.

“Do you miss it, little love?” Astarion asks, voice husky, dripping with lust. He lowers his mouth to your neck again and trails tender kisses to the spot just behind your ear that always makes you purr in delight. The sound causes a satisfied smirk to cross the elf’s face as his breath dances upon your skin.

“Sometimes,” You admit before lifting your hand up to rest it upon your husband’s chest, right by his heart. It beats a steady, stable, mortal thrum nowadays. You gasp when you feel blunted teeth graze against your earlobe before murmuring, “But the trade off is much better.”

Another roll of Astarion’s hips compels you to raise your own, desperate to meet him. Your husband retracts his teeth from your earlobe and moves to tenderly press his lips against yours. It’s a soft, slow, gentle kiss where his tongue barely dips to the entrance of your mouth.

In the warmth of your bed, in the glow of a dozen candles, there’s no need to be eager nor frantic here.

You feel the elf’s heartbeat kick up a few notches as he repeats his slow, deep thrusts, plunging himself into you a few more times. The sensation of his thick length languidly dragging against your walls makes you whine for him.

Astarion lets out an appreciative moan as he buries himself to the hilt within you. Then he ceases his movements entirely, simply reveling in the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. He breaks the kiss and brings a hand to the side of your face before pressing his forehead against yours.

Another snap of his hips, this one a bit harder. Another breathy moan from you.

“And what, little love, is the best part of the trade off?” He asks in a purr as the hand held to your cheek trails back down to your neck. His nimble fingers lightly, lovingly graze against those pinprick marks again, causing you to shiver once more.

“Besides the most obvious things, like you being able to stand in the sun?” You ask, bringing your other hand to trace along the point of your husband’s ear, causing his breath to catch.

The pinna instantly flushes, as do his cheeks.

“Too many things to name, really. For one, I love watching your ears turn so deliciously pink every time I do this.” You whisper, repeating the motion again and ripping a moan from Astarion in the process.

“I— they’ve gotten more sensitive since the change.” Astarion admits as his eyes roll back into his head when you gently grasp the shell of his ear between your thumb and forefinger.

You hum in acknowledgment as you continue your ministrations. You add a bit more pressure, causing the elf to gasp in delight. A euphoric grin spreads across his face as his eyes shut, focused on the feeling of your hand. It isn’t long before Astarion is rolling his hips again in time with your fingers.

You feel your pleasure building now as his cock begins to pump in and out of you at a steady pace.

“B-but what I’m most excited about is the potential to start a family,” You admit breathlessly, causing Astarion to growl and briskly snap his hips forward, sinking himself so deeply the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix. You keen in a mixture of surprise and delight.

His cheeks are stained pink from his arousal. Gorgeous.

His eyes snap open and he peers down at you through half drooped lids, pupils blown wide with lust. He’s beginning to lose his breath as he changes the angle of his hips just slightly, aiming to hit that perfect little spot inside your sex.

“You want me to put a baby in you, is that it, darling?” Astarion asks, trying desperately to cling to his control. He knows the answer. He just loves to hear it.

“Yes, my love,” You whimper, your eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock presses insistently into your walls.

He’s rutting harder into you now, setting an almost punishing pace. One of his hands comes up to protect your skull from slamming into the headboard from the sheer force of his efforts.

He’s close. The beautiful noises you’re making are almost enough to make him lose it. But he wants you to get there first, wants to push you over the edge so that he can follow.

Before, in instances like this, he would sink his fangs into your flesh and coax a release from you that way. But in the past few months, he’d had to adapt his tactics and find other ways to pleasure you.

He knows you need more.

Your husband presses himself flush against your body and smoothly rolls you both so that you are now astride.

At one point, he never would’ve willingly allowed this loss of control. But the two of you are far past that now.

You are gazing down at your lover, face flushed as you lay your hands on his chest. He angles his hips just so, knowing that when you rock your hips back, the tip of his cock will press right where you want it and when you rock forward, his pelvis will provide perfect stimulation to your clit.

You were made for him.

Or he was made for you.

You two were made for each other.

He smiles softly as he looks up at you, “You are so beautiful.”

You smile at him through hooded lids and then begin to rock your hips, sheathing and unsheathing his length with your sex. Before long you two have found a rhythm that makes both of your mouths drop open in pleasure.

Both of Astarion’s hands come to your hips, and he presses down, adding more pressure, forcing you to grind further into him. He’s guiding your movements now, using the sheer strength of his arms to rock you back and forth atop him.

You gasp and lower your body so that every movement of your pelvis causes your breasts to drag along the elf’s chest. The sensation sends a line of goosebumps trailing up Astarion’s torso.

You bring your hand back to your husband’s ear, gripping onto the lobe. A shocked moan escapes Astarion’s lips and he suddenly bucks, stuttering the rhythm you two have created before finding it again.

“Little love,” He gasps, his eyes rolling back once more, “If you keep doing that I won’t last much longer.”

You don’t respond because you’re so close it’s all you can focus on. A few more rolls of your hips, the sensation of Astarion’s thick cock stretching you wide, and you’re sent over the edge into ecstasy.

You cry out when you reach your peak and your walls begin greedily clenching around your lover. As your orgasm ripples through your body, you grasp harder onto your husband’s ear and pull down slightly.

“Fucking hells—“ He chokes out and then he’s slamming himself into you, pressing his pelvis as close to yours as he can manage with the force of his hands on your hips. You continue to throb around him as he spills his warm seed inside with a loud groan.

You manage to open your eyes and catch the final moments of your husband’s orgasm. His eyes have slammed shut and his mouth is agape. Both his ears are positively red with arousal. He’s still gripping onto you, fingers pressed firmly into flesh as the final ropes of his spend bury themselves in your walls.

Beautiful.

And then suddenly Astarion’s cock becomes over sensitive and he gasps, his thighs are trembling as he uses the last of his energy to continue shakily thrusting into you.

It always feels divine. Perhaps more divine as a mortal than it ever felt as a vampire.

He doesn’t want to stop, despite having already reached his peak.

Your lips press against his and Astarion’s focus is pulled back to you. His hips still as you bring both your hands behind his head, threading your fingers between his damp curls. A contented hum escapes him as he focuses on the tender kiss; you sigh and practically melt into your husband.

After a few moments, you break the kiss and rest your head on his chest, listening to the stable thrum of his heart. One of the elf’s hands comes up to your back while the other rests on your bottom, simply holding you against him. He’s still inside of you, albeit soft. Your mutual arousals begin to drip between the two of you, but it’s no matter.

“Do you miss it, Astarion?” You ask, lifting your head up to peer curiously into your husband’s eyes. They’re green now, not red. But still just as gorgeous.

Astarion hums as he considers, staring back adoringly at you while you bring your hands to card through his curls.

“Sometimes,” He admits, mirroring your confession from earlier, “But like you said, darling, the trade off is much better.”

You positively glow when you beam at him and then he brings a hand to your chin, pulling you back for another soft kiss.

Astarion knew mortal life would certainly be far better than undeath. It already had been these few short months. And creating a new life between the two of you? He knew that would be incomparable.

In this moment, neither of you were aware you already had.