#astarion x ferelith
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dragonswithjetpacks · 1 year ago
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Just a nibble...
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kota-stoker · 3 years ago
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Commission for @dragonswithjetpacks. Thank you so much, it was a pleasure to work on Ferelith 🖤
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dragonswithjetpacks · 2 months ago
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"I've had enough of this..."
-featuring angry boyfriend.
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dragonswithjetpacks · 1 year ago
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9 & 35! :3
I didn’t expect anyone to actually ask!
I’ll do it for you, babe. 🥺 (Also, thank you so much. I saw this at work today and it really got me thinking about writing. So I've just been listening to classical and I was really able to get into it. Honestly, you asking helped me a lot today. ❤️)
Because they are my muses, these will be Ferelith x Astarion.
9. falling
It was hot. And Ferelith could recall a few times she had been in a steamy situation. This was incomparable. The plan was straightforward. Jump across the lava. Be as quiet and as quick as possible. Unlock the chest. Jump back. The only real issue was the elemental patrolling nearby. It was going to take finesse to make it across, not to mention concealment. Something only Ferelith and Astarion could do. And something they had managed to accomplish many of times. She may not have been one with stealth as her companion was, but she was by far the luckiest of the group. And only Astarion outmatched her dexterity. She was light-footed and quick on her feet, an excellent candidate. The only issue was her ability to jump that far. But she reassured Astarion she could do it, despite his concerning glances to her before beginning his trek across.
Ferelith jumped once. All was well. Even the hair sticking to her neck and face couldn’t distract her. A second jump. Fine. Looking up, she could see Astarion had already made it across. Her hesitation was only holding her back. A rumble went through cavern, there was a shift as the footsteps of the elemental grew closer. Damn the heat. Damn the beast. Damn the Underdark.
Astarion saw how close it was, too. He turned to her, a look of panic passing into his gaze. The look of, well, oh shit. There were two options. The first being she could use the best of her abilities to stride across. Which, truth be told, was unlikely given her strength. Or… the second option. And the only option she felt was the right one. Astarion could witness the elemental turn his gaze upon Ferelith. He may not have seen her, but it did not matter. A cloud of mist shrouded her, hazing up into a thin fog as the heat caused it to dissipate. She reappeared suddenly in front of him… which was both accurate and unfortunately… a mistake.
“No, not here,” he heard him hiss just as she felt her body sway backward.
The rock crumbled beneath her feet, a step Astarion had avoided that he was too far away to warn her of before. For a moment, she felt her shoulders welcome the same heat as the back of her legs. As one does, all felt weightless tumbling backward. Until a hand grabbed her forearm. It pulled, twisted her around and skidded her across the ground. Not only had she nearly plunged to her death, but now she was being whisked above it like a slab of meat to be broiled. Naturally, Ferelith opened her mouth to scream. It was quickly silenced by Astarion’s other hand. Crouching down, he pulled her away from the edge and nearly into his lap. He looked out across the lake of lava. The beast suspected nothing. Just another pile of rubble lost to the cavern.
Ferelith pulled his hand from her mouth.
“Not my best moment,” she admitted, looking up at him with a playful grin.
“Not in the least,” he replied in a similar manner. “But we can’t have you falling to your demise just yet, can we?”
“No…” she felt her smile widen. “Not yet.”
35. filthy
“I’ve never bathed in a river,” he wrinkled his nose as he reluctantly untucked his shirt.
“You’ve never been able to before,” Ferelith said from the bank, her clothes already on the ground as her ankles were submerged in water.
“True… but I wouldn’t mind an actual bath.”
Astarion lowered himself to sit upon the ground. His fingers removed the laces from his shoes. His hands wretched his feet free from them. He rose up with a grumble and another complaint ready as he prepared to remove his trousers. It wasn’t until he could feel the dirt on his bare feet that he was able to take in the moment.
The rustle of the leaves above him. A soft breeze, brisk and cold against his bare skin. It skimmed across the water and caused more ripples to rush down along the stream. In it was Ferelith, her entire body illuminated by the moonlight. The curve of her neck. The wave of her dark hair. The profile of her face. The glint in her golden eyes.
“Come on then,” she turned slightly, her delicate hand stretched toward him. “You’re filthy.”
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dragonswithjetpacks · 1 year ago
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Not one drop more. ❤️
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dragonswithjetpacks · 1 year ago
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Fall Around
-dragonswithjetpacks
Summary: Ferelith ventures out on a personal quest after receiving information there may be a shop nearby that can help her translate a tome in her possession. Though she is willing to go alone, Astarion insists on trailing along. And thus ensues a playful adventure. (Bonus content in further chapters)
Notes: I felt helplessly romantic today and was reading through some things. I remember when I first wrote this, I thought it was the most raunchy thing I had ever written. I then went on to write more raunchy things. I edited this today and just wanted to repost it.
Another Note: 100% NSFW!!!!! You can make lemonade with these lemons.
Read here on Ao3.
It was a rounded stone staircase to a two-story cabin that Ferelith walked up. The sign hanging from the doorway read  Apothecary . Nothing else. No clever title, no surnames. Just...  Apothecary . It was usually those kind of shops she enjoyed the most. They were always straightforward. And she could generally find what she was looking for. She had insisted on going alone, but Astarion refused to allow her to travel by herself. There was too much at risk and he claimed he would rather act as a gentlemen escort than sit at camp with nothing to do. He was mostly quiet, which was odd, but she enjoyed his company nonetheless. He followed her up the staircase, also observing the sign swinging above the door.
"Charming," he said behind her. "You're sure this is it?"
"If not, we'll find out shortly."
"Fair enough," he sighed.
Ferelith opened the door to find a quaint room filled with shelves. Unfortunately... most of them were empty. Behind the desk was a man dressed in dark green robes. He seemed to be busy binding some sort of pouch but tossed it aside the moment he saw customers.
"Good afternoon!" he smiled. "I'm afraid the shop is low on stock. But I'm sure can help you find something today."
"I'm not exactly here to buy anything. I just had a few questions about some runes I found."
"Runes?" his brow lowered. "Well, I'm a bit rusty. But I can see what I can do."
Ferelith looked over her shoulder to her companion. Perhaps they had chosen poorly after all. The man led them around his counter to a small sitting area in the corner. Behind it was an archway. She did the best she could to lean over to get a better look, but the man took notice and put himself between her and the doorway. He gave Astarion a warning glance before he sat at the table. 
"Let's see what you have," he diverted their attention.
Ferelith took her component bag from around her shoulder, hanging it off the back of the chair. She sat down and reached into a breast pocket behind the front of her leather vest. She tossed the book on the table, causing the shopkeep to flinch as if it produced some sort of foul odor.
"What is this?" he said, his tone suddenly changing.
"A book," she replied nonchalantly.
"That's not a book... that's a plague. A bane cursed upon the unfortunate."
Ferelith exchanged a look with Astarion, who remained standing next to her.
"I'm only trying to decypher a message within it."
The shopkeep laughed, holding his stomach so as not to burst. "The best thing you can do with a book like this is to throw it away."
"I can't," she leaned forward. "If you could just-"
"I'll not touch anything that dark from the fey," he shook his head. "Why don't  you  tell me where you got it?"
A hand slammed down onto the table, shaking the book upon it. Astarion was leaning on that hand, hovering over the shopkeep, his eyes burning red.
"It's nothing more than just a silly book," he attempted persuasion. "If you could simply just... look  at it, that is all we ask."
The man was suddenly shaken but intrigued by Astarion in some way.
"You look different as well," he narrowed his eyes. "Where are  you  from?"
Ferelith let out a heavy sigh. "Perhaps we could trade, sir. I have a variety of items, here. I could pay you for your time."
The man looked over, glancing down into the bag that she now held open. The contents inside made him bolt from his chair. Astarion abruptly pushed him back down as Ferelith casually rummaged through the bag.
"Both of you," his face was filled with horror, Astarion's hand still lingering. "Creatures of the night. Fowl descendants of darkness. I'll have nothing to do with your evil plots."
"I assure you, this is far more boring than whatever it is you're imagining," Astarion crossed his arms.
"Get out of my shop!"
Ferelith froze, holding a jar of what appeared to be wasps in her hand. She looked to Astarion, who shrugged and gave her a questioning look. He was asking for permission, but she shook her head, shoving the jar back in her bag.
"We'll go," she rose from her chair.
Astarion placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her closer to the door. It was an affectionate gesture that was odd to her, but she allowed it, feeling some sort of desire from him to protect her. The man fumbled behind them, mumbling about hellfire and dark fey. Ferelith did what she could to ignore him, but she could feel the rage swelling inside her. As they exited the door, Ferelith turned, lowering Astarion's hand from her side.
"I apologize for the inconvenience," she gave a slight bow.
"I will not be fooled by your disguise," he stated in an angry tone. "You can't hide what you are, hag."
Not another word escaped her mouth before Astarion put himself between her and the shopkeeper. His hand clasped around his throat and slammed him into the wall and part of the door frame, causing it to crack. Ferelith could see the indention on the man’s neck where his fingertips dug into him, causing his face to turn red and his eyes to bulge. Astarion snarled, showing the full extent of his fangs.
"I would be very careful what you say next," he said. "If I even give you the chance."
The man tried to speak but only choked on his tongue. Astarion refused to let go. He waited until his face turned nearly purple before he released him, causing him to collapse on his stoop. He coughed loudly, gasping as the air tried to come in and out of his starved lungs. He reached out to grasp anything to help him onto his feet. Astarion stepped aside to avoid his flailing hand which eventually found the railing. The man looked up, his bloodshot eyes widening in fear as Astarion looked down at him. The expression he gave was that of disgust and his hand flexed as if waiting for Ferelith to permit him to slaughter the pathetic creature. It made something inside her squirm. 
"I'll call the guard," his voice was hoarse. "I'll call them. And they'll cut that pretty head of yours, revealing what you truly are. They'll hunt down your abomination. Both of you are damned."
Astarion calmly stepped forward over him but felt the warmth of Ferelith’s touch on his hand. That did not stop the man from falling backward. His hands scrambled beneath his shirt, looking for what appeared to be an amulet of sorts. Small mutters of prayer came from his mouth as he looked about, questioning if shouting for help would be worth it. Ferelith knelt to the man, her pale yellow eyes looking at what he clutched to his chest. 
"You'll die soon," she said calmly. "But not by my hand. I'll find what I need elsewhere." 
Astarion bared his fangs one last time to keep the man quiet. Ferelith, on the other hand, was already descending the stairs. Her face was full of frustration to the point a wrinkle had formed on the bridge of her nose. He knew the moment she did not deny his touch in the shop, she was heavy with emotion. Ferelith was not a touch sort of person. However, something changed within her as they rounded the corner and she pulled him down into an alley. He couldn't ask why, as there was no time. She pulled him forward with her arms wrapped tightly around him, shoving her face into his shoulder to allow her scream to become muffled. Astarion raised both hands in the air, looking from side to side as she released her anger. He could feel the vibrations on his skin and oddly wished it was more attractive than it really was. 
When Ferelith had finished her face had turned red. She panted heavily and pushed him away, brushing her hair from her face. With a deep inhale she held her breath, straightened her tunic, and exhaled. As she did, the color drained from her face. Her true self had returned. 
"Fucking bastard," she mumbled to herself. 
"Do you want me to go back? I could just kill him." 
Ferelith turned to him, her expression fading from anger to what he was sure he could not mistake for lust. A smile spread across her lips followed by a small bit of laughter. She stepped closer to him, her hands sliding up his chest and clutching the collar of his armor. She yanked down hard, pulling him onto her lips. As unexpected as it was, it most certainly was wanted. Their kiss was heavy and even somewhat sloppy. It was as if she had been desiring this for days. When she pulled away, she left her lips hanging under his. She opened her eyes and looked up into his.
“I like what you did... at the shop.”
“Touch your back?” he questioned.
“No... the way you shoved him into his chair.”
“Oh...?” he purred back in reply. “Anything... else?”
Ferelith let go of his collar, running her hands down his chest.
“I like the way you frightened him with your threats. The way you spoke...”
“Go on...” his hands were reaching down to her thighs.
“I couldn’t help myself. I was wet watching you shout at him.”
Astarion groaned as he bent his knees, lifting her and placing her back against the wall.
“And when you squeezed his neck...”
She felt his grip tighten around the bottom of her thighs as he pressed his pelvis against her. Her interest in his antics left him wanting, too. The excitement brought him to her lips as he thrust her aggressively against the brick behind them. There was no shame to him, but he still worried about the attention they could bring after the uproar they had just caused. Dying in an alley wasn't ideal, but it wouldn't have been a bad way to go with her at his lips. 
"I have an idea," she said on the cusp of his lips between breaths.
"If it involves being inside you, I won't need much persuading," he replied quickly. 
"The shopkeep is distracted with the guard. The building is empty." 
Astarion's face lit up, a wide smile forming and showing all the points of his teeth. "You wicked... wicked woman." 
There was no hesitation from Ferelith as she turned, grabbing his hand and pulling him behind her. Following was easy, his steps correlating with hers as they ran back down the alley. She marched up the steps, looking back to smile at him. They would have to go around another alley to the back of the house. Somehow, she knew the way, as if she had been planning to break in all along. Watching the back of her, her hair bouncing as she ran, the over-the-shoulder smile, her hand clutching his own... something about it made him feel free. There was no beat to his heart, but something in his chest rushed through him. 
It tightened as they approached the back of the shop. Ferelith let go of his hand when she stepped to the window. Peering in through a crack, she had been correct. The man had left the house empty. Unguarded. And was more than likely leaving to report the incident to the town guard. The window’s shutters were bolted, but it was nothing Astarion could not pick through. It fell to the ground with a thud and he opened it quietly. With ease, he climbed inside. Ferelith quickly followed. 
The room they landed in appeared to be the mixing room in the back. Dried herbs were hanging from the rafts, empty cauldrons were waiting to be scrubbed, various notes were nailed to the walls, and random tools of the craft were scattered about. But the one thing that was abundant in the room... were tables. And it took Ferelith no time to pick one, scattered with notes and herbs. She took Astarion by the hand, walking backward and slowly dragging him with her. He watched as she slid herself on a table with her arms leaned back to support her. She spread her legs, inviting him. He accepted, sliding his hands from her knees down her thighs. They resumed their kiss from the alleyway, Ferelith reaching desperately for his breeches. 
This was a side to her he had never seen before. Not outside of dreams, anyway. There was a ferocity to her kiss and a look in her eye that sparked something inside him. It made him impatient as well. As she had finished untying the string at his waist, she reached down the front of his breeches, grabbing him around the shaft and pulling upward. There was a heavy exhale from him as she moved her hand around it, feeling the wetness from his tip with her thumb. Her boots needed to be removed. Now. His hands were quick, sliding them off one leg and then the other. He wasn't quite sure where he threw them, but he was willing to purchase her new ones if he had to. Her leathers were next, in which case she had had already begun to untie them. With one hand, he lifted her from the table. And with a combined effort from the two, they slid the pants to her ankles. One leg he managed to slide off, the other he didn't have time for. 
Rising between her legs, he grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her forward aggressively and kissing her with an open mouth. She pulled him forward by the hips, thrusting herself into him at the edge of the table. As he reached down to pull himself out, he realized how incredibly hard he truly was. She was pulling at him, pulling at his darker instinct. With his hand still around the tip, he moved a finger to the cloth of her small clothes that blocked his path. He shifted them to the side and rubbed the tip of his finger against her, feeling how ready she was to have him. She squirmed, biting his lip and making him groan. She drew him in again, her hands now buried under the sides of his pants and digging into his hip bones. He slid his hand down to the base of his shaft, feeling it slick from his wetness and now hers. 
He moaned loudly when he dove inside, causing him to toss back his head. The soft warmth of her walls tightened around him. She kissed him on the neck, stretching up to bite his jaw. He moaned again, pulling out and thrusting back in. Her hands rose under his shirt, clawing at his lower back as he began to pump inside her. He kissed her again, breathing heavily through his nose. The more he was inside, the faster he began to move. Small whimpers came from the back of her throat. He had decided he wanted to hear more of them. He removed his lips to bury his face into her shoulder. Leaning forward, he placed his hands on either side of her and onto the table, causing her to lean back and push her bottom half further to the edge. He moved harder, making her cry out with pleasure, clutching his back to stay balanced. Her legs rose and she wrapped them around him. But he needed more space. He moved his hand to her thigh, where he grabbed it and lifted it to plunge deeper into her. 
It felt good. It felt so damn good. Her body tightened and she felt the first convulsion that sent a chill through her body, signaling the beginnings of her climax. Astarion groaned deeply, a heavy breath that billowed from the bottom of his lungs. Her pleasure was ecstasy to him. The more she shouted, the harder he thrust. He straightened himself up, watching his manhood slide in and out of her. Her cloth panties were still pushed to the side and he decided they were a hinderance to his sight. There wasn't time for pause, so he reached down and tugged. They ripped apart at his hand with no trouble at all. However, the full impact of seeing himself inside her was overwhelming and he quickly looked away as he felt a twitch that would cause him to cum too quickly. He looked at her, instead, watching her body bounce in motion with his movements. Her head was craned back, her neck arched upward and he could see her cheeks getting red. Her nails dug into his flesh and he growled but did not stop. He slid his arm through the crook in her leg below the knee, holding her at her lower back. His movement slowed to a steady in-and-out thrust. Her walls were pulsing, ready and wanting... and waiting. The hand on the table came up her back, straightening her and resting on the back of her head. His fingers tangled into her hair and he could feel her hot breath on his neck. He tightened his grip, feeling another surge for himself, as well. 
"Cum for me," he said into her ear.
A soft moan fell from her lips, slipping into his ear. Her hands retracted from his back, slithering their way back down to his hips where she felt him push and pull.
"Make me," she whispered back.
He pulled her away from him, gently, to look her in the eyes. There was the spark again. The look of defiance. It made him want to slam her onto the table. But he couldn't. Not yet. He wanted to make her suffer. He pumped slowly, feeling the insides tighten each time he passed through. She was close. And as her face became askew, mouth open with hooded eyes, he could see she was resisting. She was voluntarily tightening herself and releasing, holding on to extend her pleasure. He grinned, thoroughly enjoying watching the expression on her face change as he went deeper and deeper with every sway.
"Oh," she said, her mouth hanging open. "Oh... my..."
Her hands squeezed his hips, desperately trying to move him. But he was in control. And the consistency of his cock passing through her walls and touching deep inside her sent a steady flowing chill through her body. He could feel it, too, her walls no longer pulsing... but tightening. He pressed his lips firmly together, fighting his own climax as she became wetter around him. He hummed loudly, his hand unclutching the back of her head and slamming onto the table. 
"Don't stop," she begged, loosening her grasp and letting him move. 
She felt it from her fingertips down to the very tips of her toes, a warm sensation that tingled her entire body. And at the center was Astarion, still steadily and slowly pumping into her. There was a loud cry followed by desperate gasps for air and small whimpers. He placed his other hand on the table giving one last thrust into her as he felt her loosen. His head lifted, kissing her immediately. And he would have been able to contain himself... if he hadn't felt the bite of her teeth on his bottom lip. He pulled away, but she hadn't let go, his lip sliding between them. The darkness came back, just when he thought he had controlled it. He only had to take a half step to slide her off the surface. Her legs were shaking and he held her up, helping her turn over. A foot came down onto the pants still wrapped around her ankle. And as he turned her, they came off her foot. Ferelith tried to steady herself, but it was no use. Astarion had thrust himself back inside her without any gentle ease. Her arms rose to the table and she tried to plant them down before he reached up, grabbing one of her wrists and holding it behind her back. With her free arm, she reached up to grab the other end... but could not find it. Instead, she wrinkled the research that was left on the table. It rocked back and forth as he slammed himself against her. And it was all she could do to just enjoy it. Her eyes rolled back and she could feel herself tighten around him again, the sensitivity from before heightening his deep thrusts. 
The slickness from her orgasm made it easy for him to slide in and out without resistance, allowing his pace to move faster. And harder. Ferelith could not control the cries coming from her mouth as he touched the very center of her over and over. He had another urge to grab her, his sinister thoughts coming out again. Not wanting to completely incapacitate her, he grabbed her rear and squeezed it until he made a handprint. He watched her bounce against his hips, his cock sliding effortlessly into her. He watched for a moment, the visual combining with the sensation sending him over the edge. He let go of her wrist, grabbing both her hips and pulling her closer, thrusting deeper inside her. He pushed two more times before finally feeling himself release. He moaned loudly, continuing to bounce her on him as he felt his manhood twitch inside her. He pulled himself out, examining the creamy liquid on his member.
He let go of Ferelith but quickly caught her as she began to lean too far to one side. She turned around with his hands to guide her.
"Are you alright?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
"More than alright," she panted, hoisting herself up.
They both began to laugh, Ferelith leaning her forehead against his and running her hands up his arms. 
"Here," he lifted her onto the table, knowing she would spill what was inside her onto the research they had just spoiled. "Let me find something to clean up with."
Looking around, he didn't trust anything inside the apothecary to clean himself with. He casually walked into the front area and noticed a robe hanging on a coat rack near the door. He gave a quick glance out the window and saw no one was near the shop. Then grabbed the robe to head back to Ferelith, who was patiently waiting and catching her breath. He wiped himself first, which was hardly a mess at all, and handed it to his partner. He tucked himself back into his breeches and tied it up just as neatly as before. 
"Could... could you maybe not watch?" she said standing up.
There was a small drip that descended her leg. He lifted a brow, feeling himself harden again at his handy work. 
"I suppose I could give the lady some privacy," his eyes rose to meet her.
He gave a slight gracious bow before turning his back, walking toward a different part of the room. It was covered in books. Many of them were old and covered in dust as if they had not been touched in a very long time. The titles seemed to have obscure names. Something similar to what Ferelith would read. He had no knowledge of such things, but he could tell magic from cultism. And these books were certainly darker in nature. He grabbed one, in particular, an emerald green book with a faded gold bird stamped on the side. He opened it to see it was written in elvish. Something he was acquainted with. But then other parts he could not understand. And as he flipped through the book, he noticed small charts of what appeared to be runes. 
"Ferelith..." he called quietly. 
"Yes?" she asked sweetly.
He smiled, wanting to look at her, but not wanting to disrupt her space. He had noticed she was always more pleasant after a good orgasm. This wasn't the first time she used that tone with him. He adored it and the warm feeling it gave him.
"You should look at this. It appears we were in the right place after all."
He heard the thud of the robe falling to the floor and the soft pitter-patter of her feet trotting toward him. She snatched the book from him, causing him to look over with disdain. With her leathers draped over her shoulders, she began to flip through the pages. Her mind was lost in thought and her eyes stuck in a trance, she sat the book down the table. They didn't leave the page as she slid her legs through the pantholes.
"That stingy prick," she said, her eyes still darting through the words. 
"I thought he didn't deal with the fey?"
"I don't think he does. This is sylvan. Druidic. Old... druidic."
She hopped pulling her pants to her waste but when she reached down to tie them, she didn't feel the strings. A quick flash of annoyance came onto her face, but she was still too focused. 
"It's part of a set..." she flipped the book over to see the bird. "One of three. I believe I have another that belongs to it."
"Are any of these part of the set?"
Ferelith finally looked up to Astarion, who was gesturing to the series of books he had discovered. Her hand touched each one as her eyes scanned over their spines. She took out several of them, opening them and finding more runes, more sigils, more spells. One book in particular she tapped.
"This, here. Abyssal? Infernal?"
"Infernal," he said, leaning over her.
"You can read it?"
"Some," he said.
"Perfect... that will make transcribing it much easier," her eyes lit up when she looked at him. 
"Let's get started. I'll grab the rest of the books," he began to stack them together on the table.
Ferelith placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn and look in her direction. It slid to his neck while her other caressed the side of his face. 
"I've never been more attracted to you," she said before she kissed him.
Wrapping his arms around her, he felt the sudden urge to throw her on another table. 
"Do we have time for another round?" he said above a whisper, his hand sliding underneath her.
"Doubtful," she said with a satisfied exhale but slid his hand away. 
Ferelith turned back toward the table, placing the books she had pulled out into her satchel. Before she could face the bookshelf to grab the others, she felt hands around her waste. He pressed her against the table, his teeth grazing the side of her neck. She folded, pressing her backside into his crotch, dropping the bag, and letting out a loud moan. He reached back down, tucking his hand beneath her breeches where he could feel she wasn't wearing anything beneath them. Just as she reached up to grab the back of his head, there was a sudden scream from the door. 
Astarion pulled his hand away, quickly turning to see the shopkeep had made his way back. Ferelith reached down, grabbing the bag with the books in it. He shoved her toward the window and she climbed through clumsily, tripping a bit before she caught her footing. She took off running before she knew Astarion was behind her. But within a few short seconds, she could hear his footsteps followed by the cursing of a man leaning out the window. Ferelith was fast, especially on bare feet, but Astarion was by far faster. She could hear him panting behind her. She hadn't the slightest idea of where she was going, but she zipped through the alleyways until she knew they were safe. She found a path with a stack of crates and slowed her pace to flop down behind them. Astarion was right behind her, placing his back on the wall and sliding down next to her. Breathing heavily, they both looked at one another. And much like two troublesome children, the second their eyes met, they burst into laughter. Ferelith paused to admire the authenticity of his laugh. Seeing him smile like that, his head back with his laughter echoing off the walls, it made her feel a genuine sense of joy that usually had a hard time finding a place in her life. 
" That ," he caught his breath, "was not what I expected when you said you needed a few things from town."
"You'll learn not to have expectations with me," she grinned.
"Spontaneity all the way through, then?" he turned to look at her, taking her hand into his. "Should be fun."
He lifted it, kissing her knuckles and holding her hand to his mouth while looking at her with large eyes. Ferelith rolled her eyes, taking her hand back from him. 
"Alright, enough," she rose to her feet. "Let's get back to camp."
There was a sudden pull on her strings... oddly, from the back. She looked over at Astarion, tying her breeches for her.
"Are you aware your pants are on backward?"
"What? No!"
"Would you like to fix them?"
"No... You can take them off for me later."
"Oh, yes. Be sure to remind me, darling," he turned around, waving his hands behind his back. "Now get on my back. I'll carry you. Just until we're out of town. These city streets are filthier than the dirt-trodden paths."
Ferelith adjusted her satchel across her shoulder, feeling the heaviness from the weight of the books. She looked at Astarion's back, his hands stretched behind him waiting for her. It was clear she wanted to decline, but something was preventing her from doing so. The fluttering of joy came through her chest again. Astarion looked over his shoulder, becoming impatient.
"Well? Come on."
One last smile to him, and she reluctantly hopped on his back, hearing him make a small grunt as he hoisted her up. 
"Do you think he'd be willing to give back my boots?" she said, her head resting atop his.
"We can certainly try." Astarion shrugged. "If not, my offer still stands on killing him."
And they both grinned, the wind blowing slightly through the wide alleyway as they made their voyage out of town.
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dragonswithjetpacks · 1 year ago
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Oh man part of this was pretty spot on.
Anyway yeah something like that.
Astarion: I'm just going win her over with my good looks, charm, and a little seduction.
Ferelith: I'm down for some fun and wouldn't mind some entertainment as long as he stays over there.
Both of them: lol oh shit ithinkimightbefallinlovewhatan IDIOT.
I’ve been really wanting to write more about Astarion and Ferelith in the beginning lately.
Like she’s just so utterly disgusted by him at first. She finds him difficult to deal with and his flattery unnecessary. Ferelith is the type of person who like to be wooed, but only by a specific type of person. And while Astarion does meet some of the criteria, a deceitful vampire spawn isn’t exactly what she has in mind. She also hates egotistical men who pursue her despite her rejections. And she gets a little squeamish around undead. But he’s a very pretty undead so it helps.
Because that’s the thing, though, she’s very attracted to him physically. And eventually, he discovers making her laugh, which can be difficult, is a direct line to earning her trust. He charms her, as he does everyone. And though she tries to resist, eventually, she gives in. But she refuses to be another notch in the belt. She knows it’s not a one way street and she has certain skills with her charisma, herself. So she begins to play his game, learning what raises his brow and makes him grin. It’s a battle of wits and charm. That eventually turns into they don’t know if they’re toying with each other anymore… or if it’s getting too real.
Once past the insults and the obvious accusations of mistrust, their camaraderie turns into teasing banter and a certain confidence on the battlefield. Ferelith tolerates him and he slowly opens up, He develops genuine affections, but I mean, clearly has no idea how to deal with them. So he does what ever confused person does with emotions they don’t understand and… ignores it. The gestures of friendship he makes, showing an aptitude to kindness, are just ways to ensure Ferelith won’t eventually gut him. And the continuation of the romantic advancements are a way to hide how he really starts to feel.
And of course Ferelith starts to show a hint of emotional attachment, but buries them away. There’s a lot of tension and complexity to it all that she doesn’t want. And while he insists it’s easier than she’s making it, she basically doesn’t believe any sort of relationship with him is viable. Still, she can’t deny that the want for it is there. They’re basically playing a game called “First one to fall in love is a rotten egg.”
Which brings me to post game. Or post early access. I dunno. Well, I imagine they probably continue the sexual part of their relationship regardless. Unless he betrays everyone. In which case, Ferelith already warned him she’d kill him no matter how attached she got. She doesn’t deal with cheaters and liars very well. Her pride is way to massive to let it go. Me personally, I just want them to be happy. Ferelith has been alone for a very long time. And Astarion has never known what it’s like to be with someone romantically. It would be a nice ending if they found that trust with each other. Even if it is just for the game, their little rendezvous will at least be somewhat meaningful and they could know happiness with someone else for a short time. *holds onto that thought dearly*
Or, you know, Astarion is just a bastard and leaves her high and dry. And she basically hates him forever. Which is cool, too, because I am a sucker for tragedy. Looking at you Solas. Making me fuckin cry.
Long unnecessary post short: dislike - you might be ok - i guess we’re friends now - are we flirting for real this time? - oh… we’re flirting for real this time - i’m not falling for this - shit i’m falling for this - ok let’s just make out
Denial is key.
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dragonswithjetpacks · 2 months ago
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dragonswithjetpacks · 10 months ago
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*Ferelith jumping up in down in laced up high heel boots*: Do you think they'll be okay?
Astarion: Yeah but why -
Ferelith: *takes off running in shoe store*
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dragonswithjetpacks · 1 year ago
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This is a gift, you know ...
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... I won't forget it.
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dragonswithjetpacks · 4 years ago
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Children of the wild ones...
Ferelith x Astarion
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dragonswithjetpacks · 4 years ago
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When you have a fight and have to meditate in the opposite direction...
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dragonswithjetpacks · 4 years ago
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Astarion x Ferelith
I have forgotten what it feels like. I don't remember it's true. It will take all I have left to make this right. But I'd like to try it with you
I'm the loneliest I've ever been tonight.
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dragonswithjetpacks · 4 years ago
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Spooky Babes
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dragonswithjetpacks · 4 years ago
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I’ve done it. I’ve done the smut. If you have any feedback, please feel free to dish.
The Quiet Closet
-dragonswithjetpacks
Summary: Ferelith has doubts about her current relations with Astarion. But he refuses to listen to her unless she abides his rules. Notes: NSFW
Read here on Ao3.
Ferelith never had the strength to force a body into a place of her choosing. But Astarion was a more than willing volunteer, believing of course he was being shoved for eventual rewarding purposes. In realizing this was not the case, he still refused that a small chance was better than none. She locked the two of them hastily into a small storage room of the tavern, hoping they were not watched or followed. Looking around, it bore nothing of great value. Two sacks of flour, one crate of potatoes, and a variety of other small containers littered the area and the room was dimly lit by a small window at the top of the furthest wall. The sound of rain pattered softly against it.
"If this is your idea of discretion, I'm afraid I'll have to disagree," he grumbled flatly, eyes still shifting about the room.
"With your subtle bragging, I'm fairly certain the others have a solid of idea despite my request for discretion," she hissed with a daunting scowl. "Whether you agree or not to my standards is the least of my concern. We're in here because I find it quiet."
"Quiet," he laughed, his attention now committed toward her. "An odd request coming from you - if I recall our previous encounter correctly, and I do recall it often. It's even a bit foolish, really."
The condescending tone was enough to rile her insides, but Astarion was not done patronizing his lover. Her chin was grasped firmly between his finger and thumb, which he rubbed across her bottom lip. Ferelith rose her hand quickly to reject his affections. Though not entirely aggressive, he took offense, his eyes widening with despair. Still, the natural hostility that Ferelith carried aroused him to a certain degree.
"I'm not here to seduce you, Astarion."
"No?" he appeared to be genuinely surprised, but Ferelith knew it was a ruse. "In a small room? With complete privacy? You mean you don't want..."
The trailing of his voice allowed him to step closer, peeking the curiosity of the sage. Her wits faltered under his gaze but somehow still found confidence in her thoughts. Astarion smirked at his nemesis, the stubborn will that existed within her. Always fighting, always biting back, even when it was not needed. Ferelith shuffled backward feeling the abrupt stop the wall put to her steps. His stride was slow, but he stopped, recognizing a cornered attempt was a poor one. He halted his advancements.
"I wanted to discuss what happened," she tilted her head with one curious brow.
"What happened?" he questioned, stepping forward once again at the hint of her softened expression.
"The night at the camp," she paused as he became dangerously close. "When we..."
"Go on," he placed a hand on the wall next to her.
"When we met in the forest..."
"What did we do?"
"Stop it," she chided up at him. "You can't just seduce me to avoid a serious conversation."
"Alright," his tone was low, the vibrations from the bass in his voice buzzing in her ear. "Let's make this interesting, shall we?"
He was hovering over her, stalling to entice the feeling of anticipation in order to get a reaction. Ferelith was not a patient woman. The more aggravated she became, the more hostile she was. With lips in a straight line, her eyes were sent rolling into the back of her head. She closed them and exhaled slowly from her nose. This was the sound of resentful compliance. She would never intentionally admit it aloud, but Ferelith was fond of games and riddles. Unfortunately, she had mentioned it to Astarion on one occasion. And it appeared he had not forgotten. He lowered his head to the nape of her neck, his lips grazing her skin. She accepted him with her hands smoothing the shirt over his chest, enjoying the tickling sensation of the air from his lungs.
"You may have my attention for this discussion of yours," he said speaking softly against her neck. "And if I am able to comprehend the meaning of it before I am finished, then you can have the rest of the day to yourself."
There was a long pause where she listened to the sound of his breath while awaiting further instructions.
"If you don't, then I will have you. And you can try again another time."
Ferelith's hands tightened, pushing up while clenching his shirt to draw his eyes down to her.
"This defeats the purpose of what I wanted to discuss," she looked up at him with a menacing stare.
"But you're agreeing, nonetheless."
"I suppose I am."
"Then you better start talking."
As the words made their exit, he reached up with one swift movement, grasping the wrists of both her hands. With them pinned above her head and face full of shock, he felt his need to taunt her satiated. It was when her face dropped to glower at him he found the fuel to press on. Ferelith was never a disappointment. Even as he leaned forward, granting her the warmth of his lips to her skin, he could feel her fighting the enjoyment of it. There was an initial small sigh of satisfaction that escaped through her slightly parted mouth. But it was cut short by the inhale of a breath before speaking. She was humoring him, but not yet broken.
"I wanted to clarify that it wasn't a mistake," she said softly.
"I was under the impression neither one of us thought it was," he spoke against her, gripping her wrists tighter with irritation from her statement all while knowing she said it from spite.
"The natural curiosity we both felt has been satisfied," she craned her neck upward.
"You can't just admit you wanted me. You've always wanted me."
"What I wanted was to stop being so drawn to you. And to stop questioning why."
"Remind me how that went, again?"
"It drove me insane," she smiled, feeling one of his sharp teeth graze her.
Her back arched, the tinge of pain combined with the sweet wetness of his tongue sending delightful shivers down her spine. Astarion leaned heavily over, placing his knee directly beneath her while she was lifted. Ferelith took it generously as she lowered herself down upon it, instinctively squeezing her thighs over it and swaying her hips forward.
"I was puzzled by your advancements before. But I can no longer allow you to distract me," she clenched her fists, unable to move them. "I have.... a responsibility... I have... boundaries..."
The feeling of his hand sliding down her waste slowed her speech. It traveled along the curve of her stomach, down the slope of her naval, and into the band of her breeches, the tips of his fingers just barely touching the bare skin beneath.
"I can't..."
She could feel their length stretch across her like a dark cloud rolling over an open plain. The tension in her wrists told him she was anxious. He drew up on them further up the wall, pulling her away from his knee. The tips of her toes pressed tightly against the floor to keep her balanced. And when she became dead weight to plant them, she still felt as if she were hanging there by his hand. The top of his knee just barely grazed her between the thighs. And his palm was still planted firmly on her stomach. Teasing her was a great risk. But Astarion had a philosophy on such things - great risks have greater reward. Making her wait longer would mean she would eventually give in to him. A slow stretch forward and his fingers were just long enough to reach her. She endured each finger tip tap teasingly against her like an impatient hand on a desk.
"I can't let my guard down," her voice was rigid.
"Then don't," he replied into her ear.
"The others can't know the extent of ... this."
Her eyes had struggled to remain open. And for a moment, she thought she was able to keep them wide enough to see the ceiling above her. Her assumption was wrong. For her to compare it to the calm before a storm would be a cliche, yet accurate description. Though she hated using common expressions, she was aware the pause made her want him even more. It made her want him to the point she gave in to the irritation growing inside, the same that he had planted. She was tired of being toyed with. Of Astarion never listening to her. Of his teasing. Of his disregard. Then the thunder rolled and the lightning cracked as a finger slipped down, stroking the inside of where her desires lay. A startled moan escaped from her mouth, but he was quick to quiet it was a soft kiss.
"I thought you wanted to keep this quiet," he said, the tip of nose brushing against hers.
"You," she growled. "You make me weak."
"You like it," he whispered teasingly, his finger massaging her below.
"I hate it. I despise it. I despise you."
Astarion laughed, slipping a second finger over her. She attempted to sink down again to feel his knee, but found his grasp on her wrists were far too tight. She looked up at them helpless, leaving her neck open for his taking. He caressed over it, licking it to taste her flesh and biting slightly over her throat, thoughts tempting his darker nature. But he had sworn it wouldn't happen again. No matter how much he wanted her, no matter the circumstances, he would only take what she gave. Ferelith may have enjoyed losing control in that moment, but that didn't change her need to command other things. It seemed a bit odd to his taste, but all the same fascinating. And he wanted to explore it further.
"Tell me more," he demanded. "Tell me how much you hate me."
She dropped when he loosened his grips, her back relaxing down the wall. With a gentle nudge, his knee rose up to meet her and he felt her hips sway against him. He moved his fingers in motion, straightening them as she came in like a rolling tide.
"I hate how charming I find you," her eyes closed and her voice sound as if she were in a trance. "I hate that you make me laugh."
She inhaled quickly as he pressed harder into her core, her head hitting the wall as she reared back. He felt her body tighten and urged her forward with his knee.
"Go on," he said, baring witness to the moments of joy on her face.
"I hate the sound of your voice," she lowered her brow with concentration. "I hate how attracted I am to you."
The heat from her body was making him crave her, now, and he could feel himself growing excited at the quickness of her breath. Her spite made it all the better. The more anger she released, the stronger her movements became, and the longer his strokes became. It became difficult to hold onto her and her hands slipped through his grasp as he tried to ground himself, his hand slamming onto the wall.
"I hate this constant desire I have for you..."
Her hands dug into his hair, feeling the back of his skull. The sensation of her nails scratching against his scalp brought him closer. His hand skipped up the wall as he faltered for a moment, his face buried in her hair. The fragrance she gave was enticing, as it always was.
"... this desire to feel you. Next to me. Against me. Inside me..."
Slowly, her hands slid down to his shoulders. One remained, gripping tightly. While the other slithered up his neck, her fingers finding their grasp on either side of his face. He did not fight her pull to bring him to her gaze.
"Still... If I believe for one second you'll betray me..." she said through heavy pants, "I'll kill you."
He stopped for a moment to look her sternly in the eyes. Everything else was in a state of pure bliss: chest heaving, neck vulnerable, lips parted. But even through that, she was able to depict how serious her statement was in just the eyes alone. It was a marvelous gift she had, being able to announce her meaning through the looks she bestowed. He cherished it as he did her honesty.
"I hope it never comes to that," he replied.
"You hope?" her brow collapsed.
"If I can help it," he paused, slowly starting the motion again. "I'd much rather be traveling with you. Getting into trouble like this. It's by far the best choice I've ever made, my love."
"Astarion, you bas-"
There was no time to finish as he covered her mouth with his, cutting her words with a kiss. His hand slipped further, bringing his fingers down inside her. Ferelith's hand lurched from his face, catching him at the throat with his chin in the cusp of her hand. She moaned into his mouth and tightened her grip. He dare not tear away, now, for the others would surely hear her cries of pleasure. She thrust her body forward, moving when his fingers curled and beckoned for her. He kissed her harder, his mouth opening around hers and dipping his tongue inside. She met it with her own, closing down onto his bottom lip and biting hard. This made him create a deep sound she had never heard before. Something between a growl and a exhale of satisfaction. He threw himself forward and felt his hand digging into the wall above her. Her body shook and she could feel the sensation building below. With her thumb on one side of his jaw and her middle finger on the other, she pulled him away.
"I believe I've won," she said on his lips.
"Should I stop?" he asked, his fingers still pumping into her.
"No," she struggled to catch her breath.
"Then let me give you a reward."
At this, he lowered himself, now hunched over with his entire hand underneath her. She felt the full length of his fingers inside her, making her gasp. He kissed her again to keep her quiet, but the grasping at his shoulders told him she was going to have a difficult time. He lowered his hand from the wall, clutching her backside to keep her steady as he thrust his fingers upward. Ferelith still found herself swaying, though she felt the movements were under his control. Each flex he made, she sent her hips forward. And as her body grew weak, he began to push and pull with his hand squeezing and pulling at her from behind. The swelling of her ecstasy was near and he could feel it as she tightened around him. He groaned, lifting and throwing her into the wall with the compulsion to be inside her. The sudden collapse made them separate, and in that moment, she felt a bursting from inside. An abrupt, but sweet, cry sounded from the storage closet.
Astarion, unable to determine if this outburst was something to be proud of, continued to to move his hand against her as she melted into him. Her head leaned forward into his chest, her arms clutching him for stability. With his hand still beneath her breeches, he could feel her pulsing into his palm with shaking knee. Finally, he removed himself, his fingers wet with her proof of pleasure. As she looked up, propping her back against the wall with steady pants, she watched him lick each finger delicately.
"As I suspected," he said with a villainous grin. "Absolutely delicious."
Ferelith closed her eyes and allowed herself to chuckle, if only a small amount.
"I look forward to the full coarse."
The thought of Astarion's face between her thighs sent another chill down through to her core, ceasing her ability to tie the string on the front of her breeches.
"Would it be available... tonight?"
She looked up in surprise. Most of Astarion's advancements had felt half hazardous. As if he only meant them if they were a benefit somehow. This question, however, felt sincere. He tilted his head, eager for an answer.
"No," she stepped forward. "I'm afraid it won't."
His face dropped in disappointment, despite the mischievous look Ferelith had given him. He should have known better. Because the moment she grew close, she reached out, grabbing him where he was distinctly showing his longing to be inside her again. She gave it a firm grasp, feeling him throbbing beneath the leather.
"I'll be having a taste of what you have to offer... tonight. If that's alright?"
"Wh- I uh..." her forwardness caught him off guard, but another slight squeeze brought him back. "Yes. My goods are very open for tasting, my darling."
"Good," her eyes looked him up and down. "Then I'll see you when the moon is high."
Astarion let out a deep breath when she left the closet. But he felt he needed another. He looked down, seeing himself rather proud and attentive. Ferelith's touch had not helped matters. But he would see that would be taken care of later. After all, he wanted to give her whatever she wanted to take. It was only fair...
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dragonswithjetpacks · 4 years ago
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I wanted to fail the perception check so I could get this.
And oh man... that look.
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