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verbenaa · 2 months ago

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all my dreaming is only put to shame | kinktober 2024

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F! Tav 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 7.3k 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: masturbation (both m and f), guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, exhibitionism/voyeurism, praise kink, porn with feelings, yearning, soft Astarion

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: She’s on a particular fantasy, one involving Astarion and some ribbon wrapped elegantly around her body with a touch only he is capable of as he brings her to her peak again and again and praise falls from his lips, when footsteps near her tent.

Footsteps that Rin is far too lost in her imagination to hear—unguarded and terribly vulnerable—especially when said person does not want to be heard, sneaking through the night with every bit of their prowess.

Her lips open on a silent moan and she's so very near completion when a voice cuts through the night, the exact one she had been fantasizing about.

“Well, now this is quite a surprise.”

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

In which Astarion walks in on a decidedly private moment, but finds a way to make the most of it.

𝒶/𝓃: hello! I am back with my second kinktober fic! This fic features my tav Rin, a half-elf bard, who I write about in my longfic to eden. You don't need to have read it in order to understand and enjoy this fic, but I totally think you should because it's great ~enrichment~ and also has a lot of smut in it along with sassy banter.

the only pertinent information needed for this fic is that it takes place during act 2, not too long before Astarion's confession.

it puts the 'feelings' in the 'porn with feelings' tag. you've been warned 😎 please enjoy and let me know in the comments what you though!

read on ao3 | masterlist | to eden link

Darkened blonde locks lay in sinuous waves beneath Rin’s head where it rests pillowed on her bedroll, the beginnings of something like pleasure leisurely flowing through her veins as she sighs softly into the cool nighttime air.

It was always cold here with the shadow curse hanging over them, but in moments like this Rin finds she doesn’t quite mind the way the chill prickles at her bared skin as heat suffuses through her, the icy touch of it reminding her of a very particular vampire who so very frequently graces her thoughts.

Hands run down her body slowly, taking their time as she luxuriates in the feeling as fingertips run over her collar, her chest, her waist; the touch so light it’s barely there, but the spark it leaves against her skin as they trail is all too real.

But the hands are just a touch too warm, the touch neither artful nor elegant enough to ever belong to him as they softly caress over a peaked nipple, a shallow exhalation leaving her lungs as she brushes against the bud once more.

Astarion hadn’t come to find her tonight, but that was perfectly fine. She could find her own pleasure, as she had done time and time again before they were thrown together by fate and put on this quest.

Rin lets her hands drag down her skin, over the planes of her stomach and down into the valley between her thighs as she lets her legs open for her own touch.

She lets out a silent sigh as they glide through her folds, collecting her wetness on fingertips aching to run circles around her clit. She’s determined to take her time tonight, to indulge herself in a bit of self-care that she occasionally has a habit of not quite prioritizing in the way she probably should.

Astarion, for his part, does always tend to think that she’s too impatient, too rushed, in their nights together. So she’ll take a page out of his book and slow down and enjoy the journey for as long as she can manage before her patience inevitably runs out and she brings herself to her peak.

The tiniest bit of pleasure begins to bloom as she begins to rub gently at her clit, keeping her touch soft and slow against herself. Rin lets out a contented hum at the feeling, widening her legs slightly as she snuggles deeper into her blankets.

She lets her mind drift off into her imagination, the feeling of her hand perfect as she draws lazy circles over herself, slowly kindling the heat inside her with every swirl of her fingertips.

Rin has no shortage of things to imagine, either.

It’s easy to imagine a great deal of things when she thinks about Astarion.

She could imagine Astarion and his lips as they caress over her skin, pressing kisses onto every known inch of her, warming her up with every brush of them.

Or she could imagine Astarion and his elegant, beautiful hands and how those nimble fingers trace over every curve and indentation of her form with a reverence she’s never known from another.

Astarion, with that damned mouth of his, clever and arrogant and talented in equal measure, on her cunt as he tastes every bit of her inside and out.

Astarion who steals fruit and little delicacies for her when he comes across them and smuggles it into her tent, leaving it for her to find later like a treat.

Astarion who reads every inane little letter she writes to him and replies back in kind.

He’s almost, dare she say, likable when he allows himself to be.

Astarion, Astarion, Astarion.

It’s a chorus of his name in her head as she thinks of every little thing about him, everything she’s ever liked and enjoyed or delighted in about her companion, as she loses herself to her fantasy, indulging in the feeling of her fingers circling around her clit as she imagines they were his instead of her own.

Rin sighs into the night, lashes long fluttered shut against her cheeks as she gives herself over to her pleasure.

She’s on a particular fantasy, one involving Astarion and some ribbon wrapped elegantly around her body with a touch only he is capable of as he brings her to her peak again and again and praise falls from his lips, when footsteps near her tent.

She’s rubbing at herself intently, lips open on a silent moan and so very near completion when a voice cuts through the night, the exact one she had been fantasizing about.

“Well, now this is quite a surprise.”

At first Rin thinks the smooth sound of his words are in her imagination, once more getting a little too carried away, but when she smells the very real scent of rosemary and bergamot swirling around her, her eyes fly open, shocked to see Astarion standing in front of her with a sly look on his face.

“Astarion?!” She exclaims, snatching her fingers away from her most intimate place as she scrambles around in an attempt to locate her blanket—the one she is, unfortunately, currently lying naked upon.

She settles for closing her legs, squeezing them together tightly as her arms cross over her chest in an attempt to cover her breasts as she bolts to sitting.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen her naked like this before, but being walked in on in such a state has her feeling decidedly more vulnerable than normal under his reddened gaze.

“Were you expecting someone else?”

“I wasn’t even expecting you.” Rin narrows her eyes at him despite the heat rising to her cheeks under the weight of his gaze as he caresses her skin, Astarion taking in every bare inch as they brush over her; looking at everything from the full breasts she poorly hides behind her arms to her soft thighs now curled under her, expression nothing short of startled.

“That much is clear.” Astarion raises an elegant brow as he finally circles his gaze up to her face, amusement written onto his features as Rin glares up at him.

It was one thing for the object of your fantasies and deepest desires to simply be in camp, nearby and yet still so far away, separated from one another by distance and fabric (however flimsy it might be) and the vague illusion of privacy.

But it was another thing entirely for them to suddenly appear in front of you while you lay naked pleasuring yourself with legs spread and everything on view.

It felt as though she had summoned him here with her incredibly vivid and decidedly impure thoughts and the blush on her cheeks grows even darker, though she’s not entirely certain such a thing is even possible.

“Can I ask, Astarion, what you are doing and why the hells are you in my tent?”

The fact that she’s even having this conversation, stark naked, while he just stands there looking at her as though this was a perfectly normal situation is enough to almost send her into a fit, and she takes a steadying breath in an attempt to center herself.

“If you must know,” He sniffs, even the sound haughty. “I strolled over to see if you were busy, darling. I was going to offer to perhaps share a bottle of wine or even play a game of cards, but I can see that you’ve, ah, taken to entertaining yourself without me.”

Rin rolls her eyes at his choice of words and barely refrains from sending him another pointed look, forcing herself to stop glaring at him and settle instead for what she hopes equates to the serene expression of someone decidedly unbothered by being walked in upon whilst touching themselves.

“Well, I didn’t think you were going to visit me tonight, so I decided to…indulge myself.” The words are awfully embarrassing to speak to him, though she’s still not quite sure why. “Do you have a problem with that?”

She raises her brow imperiously as she holds her head high, attempting a level of bravado she certainly doesn’t feel still sitting nude in front of him. She should probably find her clothes, or at least pull her tunic back on from wherever she had thrown it, but she feels pinned under his gaze, unable to move despite the fact that it would be in her best interest to.

“Problem? Why, I find it quite endearing to know that just a few hours without my presence has you giving into such carnal need.” He smirks and the heat on her cheeks flares to life again. “So, by all means, my darling. Do continue, no need to stop on my account.”

A moment of silence passes between them as they just look at each other, neither Rin nor Astarion making a single move as he just stands there with a crooked smile still painted on his incredibly kissable lips, like he expected her to just open her legs again and have back at it.

“Astarion,” Rin starts, incredulous as her heartbeat stutters in her chest. “are you—are you asking to stay?”

“It’s perhaps not what I had in mind tonight, I’ll grant you, but I am far from disappointed at the turn of events,” Astarion continues, as though blithely unaware of the sheer chaos currently going on in her head. “So I’ll stay, if you’ll allow me the privilege of watching you.”

She’s never touched herself in front of someone before. No one had ever asked and she’s never volunteered to let anyone bear witness to something so…so personal and intimate.

“And if I were to ask you to leave?”

“Then I shall walk out of here and spend the rest of my night thinking of you.” Astarion says simply, not a trace of deception to be found, the smirk on his lips falling as his expression becomes unusually open.

It feels dangerous, somehow, to allow him to see her like this—yet another step they’re taking into the unknown. Their relationship has never been a simple one, nothing cut and dry about the way they’ve grown into each other’s lives like twin vines curling together, only becoming more entangled with every passing day.

And yet, there’s something about his words that threatens to devastate her, the truth of them dizzying and the mere thought that Astarion would ever choose to think about her one that sends her heart into a frenzy, the cadence of it picking up as she sits there frozen.

“You—,” Rin breathes, and she can’t believe she’s doing this, but there’s something almost sweet about his words and in his expression that spells nothing but disaster for her heart. “You can stay, then. If you want. But don’t think it’s going to be anything special.”

She’s not quite so sure why, but she trusts Astarion against her best judgment and has for longer than she would like to admit. She trusts him to have her back in a battle as much as she trusts him with her body, which is arguably poor logic on her part but she can’t seem to resist the pull she feels towards him that has her wishing to be closer to him in whatever ways he’ll let her.

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”

Astarion steps deeper into her tent with her newly-given permission, walking towards her bedroll and moving to sit, settling himself at the end of it. He makes himself comfortable, every motion elegant as he keeps his gaze steady on her.

There’s precious few feet between them now from where she’s still curled up on her bedroll; the lush, verdant emerald of her eyes meeting the jewel-like pomegranate of his own in a heated glance that has her looking away first.

“I don’t, I’m not—” I’m not really sure where to begin, Rin admits to herself, biting her lip as the slightest bit of nerves start to settle in the pit of her stomach.

She’s never put herself so readily on display for someone before quite like this and she’s not quite so sure how to—

“Why don’t you start from the beginning, dearest? Show me everything you’ve done to pleasure yourself tonight.” Astarion’s voice cuts through her thoughts, surprisingly soothing and almost reassuring, only a touch of his usual teasing nature present.

It was as good an idea as any.

“From the start, then.” Rin nods as her eyes meet with his again, a subtle heat flowing through her at the intensity flowing between them.

“From the start.”

And with their gaze still connecting across her bedroll, she does.

On a breath, Rin slowly lets her arm fall from her chest and bares the sight of her breasts to him and she swears that she can see Astarion’s eyes grow the slightest bit darker as he peruses her newly-freed skin.

He scans her form, taking in every inch of her that she’s put willingly on display for him and him alone in her tiny, darkened tent. Her breath catches at the way his eyes caress over her as if it were his hands touching her and not only his gaze, and something deep inside her tightens at that look in his eyes.

Astarion, she thinks, likely knew her own body better than she even knew it herself; an intimacy she’s not quite prepared to face the full implication of—she’s not yet ready to accept what it means to be known in such a way by another, as though her body were a map that he had singlehandedly made and studied, learning each of the rivers and valleys and mountains as he drew his fingers across every dip, peak, and plateau of her form.

“I was trying to take it slow tonight,” Rin breaks the silence as she trails a hand over her breast, like she had done earlier by herself, fingertips caressing over a the hardened tip of it. She keeps her touch light, but the intensity of his gaze as he watches the motion with rapt interest has a bolt of heat striking down to her core, still hidden between her closed thighs.

“Trying to indulge myself in touch first.” Rin’s hand slides over to her other breast, thumbing at the peak.

“Smart girl,” Astarion swallows as he shifts slightly where he sits, hand adjusting what she hopes is his growing length in his trousers. “You’ve been listening.”

She watches his face as she cups her breast in her palm, swiping her thumb across her nipple once more. “I have been known to do that, from time to time.”

“You can be very good when you set your mind to it, darling.”

Astarion clears his throat with a soft ahem as his eyes are still stuck on the sight of her breasts as she lightly runs her fingers against a set of still-healing marks upon the swell of one—the memory of his fangs sinking into her flesh around the peak and then sucking as he had drank from her the other night one that has another wave of heat flowing through her.

And from the desire blanketing Astarion’s features as he watches her brush over the bite, she isn’t the only one who remembers that night either; his hand covertly adjusting himself once more as he swallows hard.

Rin’s lips quirk up into a smile as she draws her touch over her ribs and down with aching slowness, her nails running over her skin delicately as she drags them past her belly button and lower, skipping over the place between her legs to run her hand up and down her thigh, reveling in his gaze following every movement.

“But it would be terribly boring if I were good all the time, don’t you think?”

“I suppose it would get a bit predictable.” His eyes trace across her skin, following her hand as she runs it back up her leg.

Rin bites her lower lip as she begins to lower herself down, her back hitting the bedroll as her hair splays around her in a sheet of golden curls. She can still see Astarion as she settles into the blanket, thinly-veiled desire shining in the depths of his rich crimson eyes.

From where he rests at the end of her bedroll, her center will be perfectly exposed to him whenever she decides to part her thighs, every inch of her on display for him to freely devour the sight of.

Her hand trails onto the soft skin of her lower stomach and Rin hesitates for a single moment, her breath catching.

Astarion had already seen every inch of her, all of her thoroughly tasted and touched and explored by him. He knows her body more intimately than anyone else before him, and yet she still felt somewhat shy at the prospect of him seeing her like this.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” Astarion’s voice is honey-thick with want as his eyes move from her hand upwards to connect with hers, scanning the planes of her face. “I can still leave.”

He can’t keep doing this to her—can’t keep acting like he actually cares for her when she knows better and it threatens to do something unspeakable to her already tenuous resolve in matters pertaining to him.

“I want you to stay,” Rin’s whisper is hoarse as she watches him. “Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

She doesn’t give herself another moment to think or overanalyze, instead parting her legs on a breath as she forces herself to keep her eyes on him instead of averting her gaze elsewhere.

She can hear the sound of air leaving Astarion’s lungs as his eyes cut from her face down to the place between her opening thighs, her hand still poised on her lower stomach just above the delicate skin of her center.

It may be dim in her tent, but she knows he can see all too well the intricacies of her, knows every inch already, but she still can’t help the blush flaring darker on her cheeks as he looks at her like this.

“Just because I’ve already seen you, my dear, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the sight.”

The words have her heart beating faster again, and she hates that he can no doubt hear it as the blood rushes fast through her veins, thrumming with an intensity at what sounds like adoration in his voice.

“I started like this,” Rin runs her hand down the last few inches towards her core, slick collecting on her fingertips as she glides them through her folds with barely a touch. “Just…indulging.”

She burns as his eyes follow her hand, desire flaring to life unbearably bright inside her as she lets her fingers dip low to collect some of the arousal pooling at her entrance before running them back up to rub it over the small bud at the top of her sex.

She glances between Astarion’s legs, his pants now very tight, and she can’t help a small smirk as satisfaction washes over her at the sight. She’ll never tire of the knowledge that she’s able to elicit such a response from him without even touching.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Astarion?” Rin lets her finger drift over her clit, her hips jumping as a little gasp escapes past her lips at the touch.

She doesn’t miss the way he begins to openly palm at the erection in his pants, Astarion stifling a groan at the sensation of his hand against himself. “Nothing not to enjoy, you sweet thing.”

Finally, Rin allows herself to circle her fingers around her clit, just as she had earlier that evening, widening her legs as she sighs at the heat building inside her.

It’s a strange feeling—though not unwelcome—to have someone else watching her every move. She never really saw herself as someone with exhibitionist tendencies but perhaps she’ll have to reassess that idea, at least when it comes to Astarion being the one with eyes on her.

She indulges in her own touch as he watches, still stroking himself through his pants, words occasionally tossed back and forth with one another until her ability to converse slowly drifts farther and farther from her mind as she gives herself over to the feeling building inside her—half-created by her touch and half-created by the intensity of Astarion’s attention on her.

“This is—this is as far as I had gotten before you came in,” She sighs as her rolls her clit, a shudder of pleasure running through her body. “Tell me what to do next, Astarion.”

“This isn’t about what I want to see. Show me what feels good, darling.” Her heart twists at the words as the feeling deep inside her tightens even more. “But certainly you must do more than just this when you touch yourself. Tell me, my darling, do you ever fuck yourself on those fingers of yours?”

A pulse of want cascades through her limbs at the mention, Astarion’s words heavy with hunger.

“Do you ever touch yourself, Astarion?” She sighs as she rounds on her clit one last time, lashes briefly fluttering shut in ecstasy as she sends a question back to him in lieu of giving an honest answer.

She’d rather show him.

“I’ve certainly indulged myself.” It’s the worst non-answer she’s ever heard from him as his eyes stay focused on the hand between her legs now drifting away from her clit.

“And what do you think about?” She trails her fingers lower, circling her entrance slowly as she collects more of her arousal on her finger before beginning to press it inside herself on a soft moan. “When you touch yourself?”

Astarion takes a sharp intake of air as he watches her finger slowly disappear as it sinks deep until it fills her to the knuckle and she pumps it shallowly.

“What, indeed,” He muses weakly as he brushes his palm harder against himself.

Astarion, for his part, looks as though he’s barely managing to restrain himself, tension coiled tight in his limbs as he watches her. A not-so-small part of Rin hopes that he will break that carefully held restraint and instead unleash the mounting desire she sees in his eyes upon her instead.

Because while it feels good, nice even, to finally have some relief it’s still far from what she’s become used to—her own fingers nothing compared to what his can do to her.

Rin lets out a low moan as she begins moves her finger, pressing deeper once more before pulling it out. She brings it up to circle her clit, the wetness glistening as her fingers trail across herself.

“What? No elaboration?” Rin smirks as she takes in the look on his face, his expression distinctly amorous. “You can touch yourself more than just that, you know. I wouldn’t mind the sight.”

Her eyes drift pointedly down to the hardened cock tenting his pants, another wave of longing coursing through her.

Astarion notices her shift in attention, naturally, and a trademark smirk graces his plush lips. “And miss a moment watching you?”

Rin laughs, the sound of it throaty as she drags her fingers back down herself and plunges two of them inside her, hilting them to the knuckle as she arches her back at the feeling.

She takes a shaky breath as her hips roll against her hand, pumping her fingers softly as she whines, the sound of them moving in the near silence of the tent loud as she searches for the place to make herself fall apart as effortlessly as he does.

“Does it feel good?” His voice is tight, pupils blown wide.

“It does,” Rin curls the two inside herself and she cries out softly at the feeling. “But not as good as your fingers do. No one’s ever made me come like you do, Astarion. Not even myself.”

The admittance has his eyes running up her body, over her peaked nipples and flushed skin to find her own.

The sight of his eyes on her spread cunt is one thing, a deep and heady feeling; but it’s the knowledge of his eyes caressing over her face that really makes her feel.

There’s something about the way he’s cataloguing every expression of pleasure that crosses over her features as though if he misses a single one he’ll never see it again, despite that he’s seen her in the throes of passion more times than she can count, that has her chest constricting and the heat inside her ratcheting up even higher.

“Tell me what you were thinking about before I came in. And be honest, love. I want to hear everything you have to say.” They’re shockingly desperate words from him that she wasn’t expecting to hear; and the use of that one single affection, love, has her heart beating infinitely faster in her chest unbidden.

“I was thinking about you,” The words slip out as a whisper, honest and true, and she wants to hate that she so readily admits it but simply can’t. “Your smile, your cleverness. How much I like it when you feed from me. How much I enjoy it when we spend time together. The things your hands and lips and cock do to me. I had so many thoughts, Astarion, but all of them were about you. They always are.”

Rin had long been pushed beyond the point of caring about the admission—she’s doomed by her feelings for him, feelings she knows he will likely never return, despite how the line drawn between simply being friends who fuck and friends who are more is muddied with every day that passes, long grown hazy with each lingering touch and moment spent together.

She watches as her confession falls over him, his eyes widening as he fixes her with a look of poorly disguised yearning of his own, eyebrows knitting together as he lets out a breath.

“You, my dear, are far too sweet,” Something shifts in his gaze, something she doesn’t have a name for, but the look of it has the desire in her turning dagger sharp. “Sweeter than I know what to do with.”

“I have faith you could figure it out, Astarion, if you wanted to.” Her hips roll against her hand, the rhythm she had set for herself speeding up ever so slightly.

Astarion’s eyes drift back down to her center, tongue slipping out of his mouth to wet his lower lip. “Add another. Let me see you full.”

She nods as she obeys, pulling the two fingers pressed deep inside her out just enough to fit a third. She keens when she pushes them back in, both her and Astarion’s breath catching when she bucks into her hand.

The heel of her palm brushes hard against her clit as she desperately chases her high, thrusting her fingers in and out of herself at a fast pace that has her thighs beginning to shake.

She finally feels filled, the slight sting of the stretch only adding to her pleasure as she moves her fingers in the way that he does, eager to finally come after so much buildup.

Her hand stutters when she notices Astarion in motion, moving to sit up on his knees before her. She’s sososo close and the brief thought that he’s maybe leaving threatens to derail everything she’s worked herself back up to with him present. “Astarion?”

“Don’t stop, darling,” Astarion whispers low as he instead begins to move toward her, crawling up the line of her body until he’s hovering above, caging her in as he balances on his elbows and knees, one of his hands tangling in her curls strewn upon her pillow near her head.

The other trails fingers down her arm until he reaches the hand she’s riding, the coolness of his skin a shock against the heat of her own as he finally touches her for the first time that night.

Even if he only touches her like this, it’s enough; she’ll take it and revel in the feeling of his skin on hers. He may as well be touching every inch of her with the heat that courses through her as she looks into his eyes, helplessly lost in climbing euphoria.

His hand presses against the base of the fingers she has buried inside her, pushing them deeper as she cries out, his touch a shock of electricity even only on the skin of her hand. “That’s my girl. Just like that.”

“Now, curl them just a bit,” Her hips move against her hand as she hooks her fingers inside her, pressing against herself. “And let me watch you come.”

His lips are terribly close to her own, and she wishes he would just lower them onto her own, wishes Astarion would allow her to revel in the taste of him as the pleasure brewing inside her jumps to a new height.

Another press of her fingers just right as the heel of her palm rubs against her clit is all it takes and she’s blissfully lost in the euphoria as her orgasm finally finds her at long last.

Ecstasy ripples through her body, coursing through her veins Astarion watches her as she comes hard on her fingers, hips writhing as her back arches into his chest. She tries to quiet the cries that fall from her lips as she tightens around herself but it’s hopeless, she’s far too lost in the feeling and sensation to give a damn.

Astarion whispers praise to her as she comes, words like perfect, lovely, and beautiful falling from his lips only serving to make the white-hot haze surrounding her that much sweeter. His hand stays poised on hers the entire time as she rides out the waves of her orgasm despite how her hips buck and her body shakes beneath him.

Her limbs relax as she finally comes down, tremors of pleasure still wracking her frame as she breathes heavily, watching Astarion under lowered lashes as she lays back onto the blanket, sated and boneless.

She’s still trying to catch her breath and calm her beating heart when the hand on hers shifts, Astarion gently pulling her fingers from her body as they wrap around her wrist before he directs them up towards his mouth.

Rin can’t help the sharp intake of air into her lungs as wraps his lips around them and sucks, tongue licking her fingers clean of her come as a low groan escapes from him at the taste of her.

His tongue slides along her skin, lapping up her spend as she shifts underneath him, heat already lancing back to her empty core at feeling of Astarion’s mouth on her skin.

“Delicious, as always.” He nips at the tip of one of her fingers once before letting go of her hand, and Rin thinks he might kiss her if the way he’s staring at her lips is any indication, as though the taste of her made him hungrier for even more.

“Astarion,” She’s mere seconds away from threading her hands into his hair and pulling him down so that their lips will finally meet when Astarion pulls away from her, moving to stand.

“Astarion, what are you—” She follows him up onto her elbows, alarm tinting her words as he rises to his full height, adjusting his length in his pants.

“Sleep well, darling.” His voice is heavy and tight with unfulfilled desire, as he backs away from her bedroll with slow steps as his eyes stroke along the sight of her laying there one last time before he finally backs out of her tent and into the night, leaving Rin laying there once again terribly, horribly, and utterly confused as she flops back down onto her bedroll, breathless and wondering.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

It had taken Astarion every ounce of stealth he had to leave her tent without being noticed, the raging erection in his pants not helping his situation as he had stuck to the shadows before finally managing to sneak back into his own tent.

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, despite that he doesn’t even need the air to breathe, as he emerges into the familiar decor of his tent, swirling dark red accents a minor comfort to his addled mind.

With a deep sigh, Astarion drops to his knees onto his bedroll, his cock throbbing near painfully in his pants as he runs his hand over the bulge. He hisses at the feeling, holding back the need to buck his hips into his hand.

It had been an effort to restrain himself from touching Rin, but gods had he wanted to. How he had wanted to wrap his lips around her breasts and suck and lick at her skin, bite into her soft flesh and drink from her during the throes of her pleasure, bury his face in between her legs and taste every bit of her she’d let him.

And yet, he had held himself back.

Finding her flushed and naked, a hand between her thighs, had been quite a shock. He had not planned on walking in on such a moment, though he finds that he’s far from disappointed by the outcome.

Not when the sight of her laying open like that as she had let him watch her had been nothing short of beautiful and erotic; the image one that will no doubt be papered onto the walls lining his memory for years to come, should he be lucky to survive that long.

If he were a better man, he would have snuck back out, leaving her alone in her fantasy.

But Astarion is not a better man, and so he had happily interceded on her moment to take a piece of it for himself out of his selfish desire to have her in every way he could without having to admit it.

The horrible truth of it all was that he didn’t have any plan at all when he had ambled over to her tent, simply wandering to where she had settled in for the night in search of her company.

He should have thought harder about what he was doing before entering her tent, just as he should have noticed the familiar scent of her arousal lingering in the air; but that seemed to be the exact issue.

Astarion seemed to be unable to think around her these days, all logic fleeing from his mind. Instead, he was acting on pure impulse and giving into the whims of his desires left and right wherever she was concerned, his plan and everything else be damned.

Astarion was grateful she hadn’t noticed him right away when he had entered her tent, giving him a moment to compose himself from the sight of her to slip on one of his seductive guises, fitting onto him as easily as a well-worn coat.

It was a disguise that he had donned for far less time than he meant to, losing his composure within mere minutes of seating himself down at the end of her bedroll and watching her simply run her hands over her skin.

It was undoubtedly pathetic, but as Astarion palms his cock, still painfully hard from where it’s hidden behind his trousers, he decides that it’s not nearly quite so awful as him running out of her tent was.

Gods, how he could have fucked her tonight. Could have had her crying his name as he pleasured them both into absolute oblivion.

Instead, he fled her tent like some boy who didn’t know what to do with the sight of a naked woman lying in wait.

And for what reason?

Because was too overwhelmed with feeling and emotion that he couldn’t bear the sight of her a moment longer without giving in to an urge he’s not yet ready to put a name to?

Because the want to kiss her intimidated him so incredibly much that he simply had no choice but to run, lest he be pulled in by her spell?

Unacceptable.

But no matter the amount of self-loathing he carries, it doesn’t stop him from peeling his pants down just enough to free his cock, barely paying attention as he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it to the side before laying back on his bedroll as his hand finds his length, twitching and eager between his legs.

He can still taste the remnants of her come on his lips and tongue, ever the sweetest flavor, as he pumps his cock once in his fist, holding back a moan at the touch as his hips buck into his hand.

Rin had been thinking about him.

Thinking about him as she had touched herself, and while he knew the admission shouldn’t be surprising—he had engineered his way into her thoughts, after all, with the help of his foolish plan—it still hit him like a hard punch in the chest, pushing the air out of his lungs and sending his brain into a frenzy.

Of course she had thought about all the things he could do, he’d practiced and perfected his skills plenty over the past two centuries and he’s poured every ounce of that knowledge onto her, but to know that she also simply thought about him as person begins to undo something inside him that had been tangled up for a long, long time.

And what do you think about?

Astarion had never been more tempted to tell her the truth.

He had bit down on his answer, it would have been far too incriminating to admit that he, too, has had a great deal of thoughts these past months and all of them have been about her.

Slowly, Astarion begins to work himself; long drags of his palm against his hardened length as precome leaks from the tip of him in clear, shining beads. He lets his hand drift over the crown of his cock to collect the wetness before positioning his hands just how he likes it—one at the top to work the head of him, and one at the base for the rest.

Sometimes, he fantasizes—imagining things like her wrapped in silk the same color as her eyes, the sheen of it luminescent in the candlelight as it hugs around the circle of her waist and stretches across her breasts, the darkness only serving to make the halo of soft curls that cloud around her that much brighter. He likes to imagine her atop him in this particular fantasy, whispering scandalous things into his ear as she works his cock in slow, deep rolls of her hips, his hands running up and down the indent of her waist as he marvels at the sight of her, something akin to a goddess of pure light in the unending darkness of his existence.

Astarion’s hips jump into his hand as he releases a low moan as his fists speed up at the thought of it and his brow creases in pleasure.

Other times, he thinks back on the nights he’s already had her—reliving the feeling of his cock buried deep in her cunt as they knelt together, every inch of their skin touching as she meets his every thrust, the feeling of her lips on his nothing short of exquisite as they had kissed. He can still smell the tang of her blood, can remember the way she had tasted when his tongue had found hers, can still feel the way he had hit the deepest parts of her as she had come apart in his arms with the loveliest of sighs and moans, his name never sounding more beautiful than when it falls from her lips in ecstasy.

He can feel the tightening in his stomach as he fucks his hands but he wishes it were hers instead touching him right now, asking him how he liked it and how else he wanted it, all of her normal irreverence gone and replaced instead by an aching sweetness that she only ever shows to him.

When Astarion finally comes in his hand, ropes of pearly white decorating the milky skin of his stomach, he comes at the thought of simply her—no one particular thing, but instead the sum of everything she is and everything he’s ever dared to admit to himself that he likes about her.

The look on her face when she serves him a quip she thinks is particularly clever (even when it’s not); the image of her smile; the desperation in her eyes when she had asked to be kissed; the feeling when she runs her hands through his hair; the act of her simply being there for him while he talks and processes everything he’s ever been through—it’s all too much, more than someone like him can bear to handle as he moans out loud his completion and pleasure wracks through his every limbs, muscles shaking and head bowing back into his pillow as he works himself through it with hard strokes of his cock.

Astarion pants as he comes down from his high, tension emptying from his limbs as his come begins to cool on the skin of his hands and stomach and he simply lays there and breathes in the cold nighttime air, eyes staring hopelessly up at the fabric of his tent.

Where is he supposed to go from here?

He certainly can’t go back to acting like none of it matters. He tried that already and it was a spectacular lesson in failure.

It’s an answer he doesn’t know and an answer he has no real way of figuring out; and so he will spend another night ignoring it until he’s once again faced with the brunt of whatever it is brewing in the cavity where his dead heart lives.

Astarion is, by nature, always cold.

It was simply a part of his condition by being an unfortunate member of the undead. His heart no longer beat and there was little warmth to be found in an existence without blood to pump through his veins.

Most of the time, it doesn’t bother him.

After two centuries surviving in the chill of the Szarr Palace, he had learned to handle the bitter cold and the feeling of it against his skin, unable to ever find comfort under his miserable excuse for a blanket. The few bits of warmth he had ever felt during those years were from the measly blood of rats, barely enough to heat his nose much less fend off the chill of life after death.

Now though, now Astarion knows a bit more of what it means to be warm.

Astarion understands the warmth that floods his veins when he drinks mouthfuls of Rin’s blood, delicious and sweet as he swallows it down, the same way he now understands the warmth of the intimacy he finds when they lie together, kissing and touching and moving as one.

But on a night like tonight, the cold eats away at him—biting through his pale flesh down to his bones as it leaves him bereft.

He should have stayed, should have finally allowed himself to indulge in the warmth of rest she’s offered within the circle of her arms. She’s made it clear he’s always welcome to, and the draw of that simple, innocent act stands to be the one thing that eventually will wreck his resolve.

But he can’t give in.

Not yet, at least.

Instead, Astarion will simply dream of it—imagine once more about what it must be like to curl up beside her with their arms wrapped around one another as they drift off to sleep under blankets, warmer than he’s no doubt ever been before.

#astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #bg3 kinktober #astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion fics #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #verbenaa writes things!

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scaredyspooks · 3 months ago

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BG3 Kinktober 2024

Because I'm a perverted conduit that the void speaks through, I'm doing a Baldur's Gate 3 themed kinktober this year on here and AO3. As I publish the fics I'll be updating this list with links to them, and so y'all can gauge your interest here's the list!

Astarion (spawn) - roleplay - what's an innocent magistrate to do when his assistant propositions him when they're staying late at work?

Gale - pegging - growing bored of the wizard's endless accounts of how he and his goddess' bodies once intertwined, you notice there's one pleasure she never showed him.

Shadowheart - sensory depravation - life's greatest pleasures can be found in loss and darkness.

Lae'Zel - leather - peeling the leathers from your lover's body are one of the greatest rewards of battle.

Wyll - chastity - just because he wants to take things slow, doesn't mean you can't torment him a little.

Karlach - temperature play - attempts to cool her down end up having an interesting result.

Minthara - bondage - an interrogation goes south as you try to get to the bottom of the Absolute's cult.

Halsin - olfactophilia - after almost a tenday of not having time to bathe you head to the river, only be blocked off by a large elf.

Mizora - public - shrouded in the cloak of the hells atop a secluded pedestal, only to find it is in fact a stage.

Rolan - electro - someone's ego boost at getting a new tower has him coming out of his shell.

Zevlor - glory hole - the commander and the cleric need a release, things get interesting when the stranger behind the wall ends up being far too familiar.

Ikaron - semi-public - tensions are high in The Hollow, but you think you can help.

Raphael - naked platter - the devil has made a patisserie of you for his guests, though they seem to fade from existence as he grows distracted by the meal he's making of you.

Haarlep - size difference - the succubus is shocked that you want to see their true form, turns out they're a lot bigger than their master.

Rugan - impact play - the Zhentarim seeks to punish you for trying to skip out on your deal, he doesn't get very far.

Gortash - power play - your relationship has always been somewhat of a dance, one that you're determined to lead.

Dammon - edging - the forge's flames illuminate more than the smith realises, but you're happy to "help" once things quieten down.

The Emperor - hypnosis - the ilithid believes he can still get through to you, with one last attempt.

Aradin - hate fuck - your competitor, the thorn in your side, but damn if he doesn't have good stamina.

Abdirak - sado-masochism - two priests of Loviatar aid in each other's prayer.

He Who Was - free use - his ability to travel the shadowcursed lands unhindered has him popping up everywhere, making you pay for his insatiable desires.

Lia - wax play - after the first few drops, it's hard to tell what's blush and what's burn among the giggles in the Elfsong.

Cal - play fighting - a little extra training won't do any harm, though the proximity may prove... challenging.

Gale - findom - what starts as a simple shopping trip to Sorcerous Sundries takes a turn as you drag the wizard to more and more shops.

Astarion (ascended) - biting/marking - your last night as a mortal will be one to remember.

Shadowheart - human furniture - god's favourite princess needs a throne.

Wyll - roleplay - the son of a duke has a duty to mingle at these important events, though it usually shouldn't lead him to a cupboard with a handsome stranger.

Lae'Zel - predator/prey - your heart races, your breathing to quick to catch, and you know the more you sweat the easier it'll be for her to catch you.

Karlach - human ashtray - she's been making fun of you all evening for your drunken confession about her cigars, but once the other's go to bed she's happy to indulge you on the Elfsong's roof garden.

Halsin - breeding - ever the beast of nature, with your perils finally at an end he lets himself run loose with you and you realise it’s going to be a long night until he’s done filling you.

Minthara - body worship - the drow isn't keen onbeing nursed after but with injuries so severe you need to make sure she's alright.

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vixstarria · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 23 - Body Swapping

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post. Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published. But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer: Tell me this isn't exactly how this would go, I fkn dare you.

“We’ll have about an hour. Are you ready?”

The scroll had cost a small fortune on the black market, came with no guarantees, and was illegal to possess to begin with. The vendor claimed it would fully swap their bodies. Not just provide illusionary images of one another - completely switch them, sensations, abilities, weaknesses and all.

“Do it.”

Asmodea braced herself and used the scroll before she could change her mind.

She was immediately struck by the heightened richness of her senses - she already had perfect half-elven eyesight before, but now everything she laid her eyes on was clearer to a degree she had never realised was possible. She could make out the most minute sounds from afar. Her sense of smell seemed to have gained a new dimension.

It worked! By the gods, the scroll actually worked…

After a few dazed seconds, she realised that her mouth had been gaping in awe, and she shut it. A fang immediately snagged on her inner lip, piercing it. Asmodea yelped in surprise, tonguing the cut. Within seconds, it healed completely. She carefully opened and shut her mouth again - the fangs feeling unnatural and obtrusive in her mouth.

“Godth,” she lisped, trying to get the hang of working her mouth despite the fangs. “How long did it take to get used to thith?” No answer followed, and she looked questioningly at Astarion, who was wearing her body.

He had stayed completely still, barely breathing, hardly blinking. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her, she realised.

Oh. Right.

“Come now, you’ve seen your mirror images,” she said, softly. “This shouldn’t be a shock.”

“They didn’t quite convey the… the finer details,” Astarion said, absentmindedly, continuing to stare.

Asmodea quelled her urge to cringe at the sound of her own voice, and instead did a little spin with a flourish, and flashed him her best imitation of his devilish grin.

“And what do you think?”

“I think you have excellent taste, darling” Astarion smiled, before finally tearing his eyes away from his own image. “Anyway. Let’s not waste time.”

Their clothes were quickly discarded.

“Do you want me to touch you..?”

“Not yet, just let me see for myself first… Gods, you may as well be half-deaf and blind, but I need to gorge myself on blood before my skin gets even close to this level of sensation…”

Astarion was careful and methodical, almost scientific in the way he glided his fingers over his female flesh, repeating the motions he’d performed on her countless times - no doubt making mental notes of the sensations and filing them away for later use.

Meanwhile, Asmodea was gyrating her hips, trying to get her penis to spin like the sails of a windmill.

“You need to be more aroused to get a proper idea of how that feels,” she said, watching him.

“In due course,” he murmured. “…And will you stop that?”

“In due course,” she mimicked him, looking him square in the eyes, the penis continuing to fly.

He sighed and resumed his efforts, his fingers slipping inside, probing and searching. He frowned in concentration.

“You really can’t reach it yourself,” he said thoughtfully.

“Yes, I’ve told you that,” she rolled her eyes. “But while we’re err… exploring uncharted territories and all… Can you finger my ass real quick?” she asked, turning her back to him.

“Finger your own ass,” he muttered, “I’m busy.”

She half-turned to look back at him over her shoulder, conjuring up the saddest, roundest eyes she could manage. Astarion swore under his breath as soon as he looked up at her.

“I had no idea it was that effective,” he muttered. “Fine! I’ll scratch yours, if you scratch mine... Is there any oil anywhere..?”

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

#kinktober 2024 #bg3 kinktober #BG3 Kinktober 2024 #Astarion #Asmodea #kinktober prompts #bg3 #tell me this isn't what you'd do #crackfic

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wakacreations · 3 months ago

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Kinktober Day 3: Raphael Breeding

Author's Note:

I don't usually write smut but what better month to learn how to during this month. I honestly spin a wheel to determine which infernal I write about so far it has been Raphael.

Pairing: Raphael x F! Tav/Reader

Content: NSFW - Dubcon, Choking, Breeding,

Word Count: 1215

Summary:

"Could the mouse honestly believe they can scurry away so easily?" Raphael catches Tav going back on their deal. What is the punishment for stealing back their contract in the House of Hope? Reminding them why they signed their name away the first time around. "The good thing is though, there's only one little voice you really should listen to. Mine."

“You were always my favorite client. Oh, how much you fought, begged and stole to keep your hide intact.” He purred.

“There is a tenaciousness to you little mouse.” The jingle of bells grew nearer with every step you took towards the portal.

“You have the audacity to defy the fates, to face the gods and to deny people of their rightful days of reckoning.” You feel the warmth of Hellfire pressed against your back.

“While I do not mind whatever chaos you leave in your wake, it is your realm after all. I am the Fox who warns and watches, a humble guide if you will.” The brush of a heated breath licks at your ear.

“Yet, you chose to not heed the caution I bestowed upon you. I went through all the pleasantries as I am but the most gracious host.” A giant arm envelops you from behind, wrapping itself tight around your waist.

“There is only so much I can tolerate.” He growled, feeling the rumble of his chest on your back.

“You will pay for all your manners of conduct in this home, mouse.” His claws come to grip your delicate throat squeezing in warning of what is to come. A dark chuckle fills your ear as you feel him twitch alive at your backside. Your lower muscles clench at the contact. You desperately claw at his firm hand feeling your head grow lighter. Your vision blurring at the edges.

“I can easily snap you with the twitch of my palm. I still have half the mind to do so.” He rolled his hips against your plush behind. Your vision darkens the smell of cherries and smoke fills your nostrils. Flames licked up your body singeding you as the heat roamed, stinging your skin. You shivered at the cool silk brushes underneath you.

“I am in the business of being a savior than just being a mere devil,” releasing their grip on your airways. You take a deep breath in, feeling a flush of warmth spread through you as the sudden blood rush to your head. Colors danced in your vision all wavering and vivid. The softness of his cheek brushes against yours.

“Do not move, less if you have any ounce of self preservation or do. The outcome will lead to my own pleasure in the end.” The devil spoke into your ear. The bed groaned. The pressure on your back disappears, a tail wraps your ankle dragging you to the edge of the bed.

“You enjoy our little games, mouse that much is evident. You fear what you crave.“ His hands grab fists full of your ass, your hips grind into the bedding.

“Always so eager to respond to temptation,” a smirk played on his lips as he parted your cheeks.

“Try as you might to escape me. Your arousal says otherwise,” rubbing his thick rod against your slick, coating his ridges.

“Admit you love my attention and pleasure,” sharply thrusting into you. You scream a high pitched wail clutching at the sheets. The searing stretch as his cock forces you to accommodate his hefty girth, his infernal ridges catching on your tight walls, pressing further till he's completely seated inside. A tremble shudders through you from a mix of your pain and arousal to his overwhelming punishing thrusts. Tears prickle in your eyes when you feel him kiss your cervix. You whimper into the silk.

“You will not hide from me, mouse.” A firm strike lands on your soft cheek, rippling before him. You yelp, feeling his heated hand print leaving his mark. His.

“Keep your head raised. You will not deny me,” rubbing his palm over your reddened cheek. He moves his hips inside you, pulling out and slamming back in. Through each long rough stroke, you feel him, all of him. The way his ridges rake against your quivering walls as you try to cling desperately for any amount of pleasure. A low groan escapes him in approval. His clawed hand reaches into your hair pulling you towards him.

“Derive any pleasure you can. Beg for it if you must. You will accept all that I am.” His voice gone ragged, his thrusts quickened as he chased his pleasure. You try to angle away from his punishing blows but his arm presses your hips down keeping you in place. Where you truly belong. A sudden rush of his burning seed spills into you, marking you within. Tears stream down your face as you feel him pump into you pushing his seed deeper.

“You know my appetite is insatiable, little mouse. You will come to enjoy it, won't you?” Another sharp strike to your cheek, you cry out. He moans, hips stuttering at your sudden clench.

“Yes! That is it, love. I will take you again and again till you know nothing else.” His tail whipping blow after blow on your backside littered your cheeks with bruising kisses. Moans fall from you in an endless stream, bracing yourself for each delicious sting. Your hips pressed back into the cambion's. His ragged breathing fills your ears.

“I will fill you to the brink, mouse. Your womb will know only I. You will ache, you will beg for my seed to take root deep inside of you. Isn't that what you want? To stay here within my walls?” Raphael pressed his weight into you. The warmth of his chest on your back. His arms come to wrap around you driving his cock to carve into you. The flap of his wings cast a shadow overhead. His face nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder.

“How long will you fight against me, Tav?” You whimpered, his fangs running against the column of your throat, sucking and biting as you shiver from pleasure.

“You are mine!” His hips moving in a feverish frenzy, sinking his teeth into you. There will be no else but him. You cry out as you feel him collide into you with full force. “Nothing but you,” as you feel the growing tension build from within.

“That's right, such a good little mouse. You will remember. You will learn. You will never forget,” he roared, emphasizing with each buck of his hips. Your senses are assaulted by him.

The burning heat of his body that presses and melds with your own, the deep rich sultry voice that coats his words of deprive temptations, the weight of their ribbed cock that sits heavy in your stomach demanding you take in their wide girth, and the intoxicating smell of sweet cherries linger on your skin. What is there left of you in this body of yours?

“Who do you belong to?” His hands come to deliver a harsh twist to your nipples. The tension within drives you mad. You raise your hips to grind against him, to gain whatever pleasure he generously bestowed onto you. You feel his claws press on your throat, the familiar weightlessness returns. Whatever he desires. Your toes clench as you come undone, feeling his engorged cock filling you once more, spilling out of your abused hole. An inhuman roar piercing through the air.

“Raphael,” you utter when their grip slackened. Three burning eyes stare down from above as your exhaustion takes hold.

#raphael bg3 #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x tav #tav x raphael #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #bg3 kinktober

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xxnashiraxx · 2 months ago

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Pairing: Astarion/f!Tav ~ Astarion/f!OC (Ofelia) Word Count: 6,774 Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Inappropriate Use of the Tadpole, PiV Sex, Riding, Oral (Female & Male Receiving), Fingering, Masturbation, Slight BDSM, Restraints, Gagged, Blindfold, Melted Candle Wax, +Some Soft Astarion, Porn Without Plot, Slight Fluff, Biting Summary: Ofelia's mundane evening is interrupted by a certain vampire utilizing the tadpole to entice her to his tent during dinner. She takes the bait, ending up biting off more than she chew... literally. ˖ A fun, all porn no plot oneshot featuring Astarion and my longfic main character, Ofelia set during Act 3 but completely separate from the main fic!

divider here 🩸

AO3 | Song Reference: No One Like You - Scorpions

Ahh, the final installment is here!! These were all so fun to write!!! I had such a blast making these this month- it made for some great practice for the main fic, and also helped me explore their dynamics for once they're in a more trusting and happy place later on in the story! ❤ This was seriously such a fun time- I couldn't have done it without the encouragement and inspiration from some of the coolest and most talented people (@khywren, @pinkberrytea, & @verbenaa to name just a few!)

Now, please enjoy this one- it's a bit shorter than the others (for my sanity). It'll be back to my regularly scheduled programming of With Stars to Fill My Dream updates after this, and look forward to a fun one-shot for Christmas where Ofelia shares the tradition with her companions! ❤ (Spicy art WIP for a scene in this fic at the end!)

Tags: @zozoparsnips ❤

Prompt 1 | Prompt 2 | Masterlist

Girl, there are really no words strong enough,

To describe all my longing for love.

I don’t want my feelings restrained.

Oh, babe,

I just need you like never before,

Just imagine you’d come through this door,

You’d take all my sorrow away,

***

Ofelia stares into her soup, slightly groggy.

The day had been long, full of fighting through a disgusting sewer looking for Jaheira’s old comrade- who turned out to be surprisingly nice, but it was still a sewer. Ugh. The bath she’d taken still didn’t feel like enough. Despite everything, her companions manage to find entertainment in the form of Scratch performing tricks to which they happily clap and cheer in their little camp beside the harbor.

“Is it not to your tastes?” Gale murmurs, hushed tones doing nothing to mask his question from the others around the campfire. She smiles softly, stirring the clear broth and noodles.

“No, it’s really good… I’m just a little tired from the day.” He offers her an understanding smile before Karlach knocks into him from behind in her bid to have Scratch chase the ball she holds aloft.

Ofelia pushes her utensil around the bowl, mind wandering to their resident vampire as vague loneliness distracts her from truly joining the others. Astarion had gone to his tent long before dinner was served and with a chaste kiss, he left her beside the fire, a glimmer to his eyes and a lingering touch on her shoulder. She had wondered if he wanted her to join him, but she hadn’t been sure. Usually, he’d just ask—this time he didn’t. So she’s stayed, catching herself almost falling face-first into her food a few times.

As the rest gather closer to the campfire, listening to Jaheira and Minsc tell stories of their old adventures, Ofelia starts to feel it. It begins as a tingle in her belly and a gentle onset of warmth that unfolds over her face and abdomen, making her feel overheated and flustered. At first, she blames the broth, wondering if she’s starting to get sick until the sensation settles between her thighs and she inhales sharply.

“Ofelia? Is everything alright?” Shadowheart asks, but Ofelia doesn’t reply. Her heart starts to race, sweat breaking over the back of her neck, and she shifts in her seat to stifle the feeling but it’s no use. An ache, stunning in its force, unfolds below and she sets her bowl down on the ground with shaking hands. The tadpole chitters in her skull- a familiar throb beginning at her temples and she instantly knows what’s happening.

She feels him, his motions, the air puffing through his flared nostrils as his teeth anchor over his rolled-up shirt, long, deft fingers palming the hard bulge over his pants. She feels it as if she is him and she tenses when he unties the laces and lets his cock spring free as a quiet sigh of relief pours from his lips.

“U-uh yeah…” Ofelia looks up at Shadowheart, eyes misty and cheeks red. The half-elf frowns, holding the back of her hand over her forehead, and Ofelia jumps at the contact.

“You’re feeling a little warm…” Shadowheart continues, but Ofelia’s lost in the feeling of Astarion finally stroking himself, she can feel his stomach tightening and his fangs digging through the fabric into his lower lip as he holds back a soft moan. Sensations build across her skin, her forehead feverish and her mouth dry. She shifts on the log, holding back a soft whine as heat pools between her legs and the feeling of him swiping his thumb over the wetness gathering at the tip lights her nerves on fire.

She feels him set a slow pace, driving himself mad at the gentle rocking of his hips as he fucks his hand. Ofelia bites her cheek hard, eyes squinting shut as the sensations of relief clash with her unrestrained desire- frustration causing her to twitch and dig her nails into her arms. She tries to reach out, but there’s a strange wall up between them keeping her strictly in receiving territory.

“Ofelia…” The blunt edges of her teeth almost cut the tip of her tongue off when her jaw snaps shut. His voice in her mind, chanting her name, is the gavel that seals her fate. She fights the urge to make a sound of discomfort, more of his pleasant sighs ringing in her ears as she stands abruptly.

“I… don’t feel well. I think I’m going to lie down.” She says through gritted teeth as Astarion quickens the pace of his movements, her body flooding with a rush of heat that spreads from her core outward. Shadowheart looks vaguely troubled, as do the rest who’d looked up at the quiet commotion, but no one interjects. Ofelia manages to slip away, thanking whatever gods that Astarion had put his tent as far from the fire as possible- yet still very much in hearing range. She throws open the entrance to find him smirking up at her, the culprit in hand glistening gloriously in the candlelight. The sight makes her knees weak.

“You… did you do that on purpose? How come I couldn’t get through?” Her voice is hushed but measured and dangerous, his smile deepening as she steps fully inside.

“How else was I going to get you over here?” he murmurs, soft and seductive. She carefully lowers herself to her knees beside him as he idly moves his hand back and forth, maintaining eye contact as they remain connected. She can feel the twist of his fingers and the subtle flex of his wrist. When a soft groan echoes in her mind, she opens her eyes to blink in confusion.

“Was that only in my head?” His grin deepens, hands abandoning their task to unclasp her corset and tug it off completely.

“Correct,” He reaches up and pulls her down till her lips crash over his and he devours every little breathless sigh and tremble of her body. “We haven’t touched like this in so long… we’re too close to everyone…” She hums at the words in her head, soft as she can, unable to linger on them as the slightest touch of his lips to her neck sends chills down her spine. He undoes her bra and her nipples stiffen in the chilled air, unable to restrain the gasps that slip past her teeth as his fingers barely brush over them. She’s so sensitive… doesn’t remember ever feeling it this intensely before.

Perhaps it has been a while for them… they’d not done much else but fight through the Lower City for the last few days, and before that, it had been fighting to get to the gates and through Gortash’s Steel Watch. Which hadn’t put up much of a fight, since they’d been allowed entry at the cost of a sham deal. Her eyes widen at the mental count she’s gone through, the number eighteen shining in her vision as his soft tut slices through the realization.

“Eighteen gods damn days and I haven’t been inside you for a single one of them. I feel like I’m dying,” He growls. She flushes hard, lips parted as she holds his ruby eyes in her gaze. They pierce right through her and he uses the connection to withdraw the scene playing within, lips ticking up at the corner to reveal his pretty fangs.

“No snooping,” She pouts, her cheeks rising in temperature as his hands move to enact the craving she’d accidentally let slip.

“Please, you were leaving that exactly where you hoped I’d find it.” She squints her eyes shut and holds back a noise, unwilling to tell him out loud what that gravelly growl just did to her. With a light chuckle, she knows he’s very aware, and one hand nudges her thighs apart so he can dip between them and lightly run up the seam of her through her clothes.

“Mmmph!” Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, heat surging through her veins at the light touch. It’s enough to leave her trembling, eyes snapping open to zero in on him through the haze around the edges of her vision.

“I barely have to try and you’re already so wet for me… tssk tssk.” She whimpers softly, letting him do it again, and another gush of wetness dooms her further, making denial impossible as she bites down on her fingers to stifle the moan.

Shakily she lets him guide her onto her back on the blankets, heart fluttering as his cool digits caress the plump skin of her belly to rest at the waistband of her pants. His eyes linger over hers as he sits up, moving smoothly through her vision as he gently prods her knees and she complies by propping them up. Once he’s pushed them apart, he sits between them, those painstakingly perfect curls of his now tousled and lying in soft sweeps over his forehead and ears. Cute and messy- just the way she likes.

“Everyone’s still awake and just outside…” She whispers, though her eager pants and the waves of longing growing within push the concern aside. He tightens his grip on her legs, leaning down ever so slightly, and as he hovers above a wicked smile unfurls over his pale pink lips.

“And?” Cheeks aflame, she brings her hands up to rest over her bare breasts, obscuring the stiff peaks from his sight, and his eyes glint with disapproval. “Hmm. Seems like I’ll have to use them after all.” Before she can open her mouth to question him, he’s reaching for something beneath a cushion in the corner, and her eyes widen in realization when he pulls it and its companions out from their hiding place.

“Really? I didn’t think you’d like this sort of stuff,” She smirks, watching his smile deepen.

“Oh, but your eyes lingered a little too long on them in that shop window, and I assumed. Do feel free to tell me if I’ve made a mistake.” Her entire body roars with heat at the sight of the pretty, silken red rope as he beckons for her to give him her wrists.

“Astarion… this is dangerous. What about everybody?” She murmurs, obeying his command as she weaves her fingers together so he can restrain her properly.

“Use the tadpole.” She cocks a brow, focusing on the sweet divot between his brows as he focuses on the task of now tying her forearms together. Her eyes dip further, taking in the bunched-up fabric of his shirt sitting above his narrow waist, and further still until they find the flushed head of his cock and the soft bulging veins that decorate his shaft, saliva pooling in her mouth as she pictures her tongue following the thickest of them from root to tip.

“Naughty,” He chides with a laugh, pinching her nipple as punishment, and with a soft gasp he finishes securing her arms.

“Use the tadpole how?” He sits back on his heels, admiring his handy work, before pulling his shirt off to discard behind him.

“Watch, feel,” She does. His long pale fingers move down the front of his body, gleaming like alabaster beneath the soft golden light. He winds his talented hands around the base of him, trousers slipping down his thighs, and her eyes follow the gentle fist he makes as he drags it up once, lashes fluttering shut as a soft groan enters her mind.

“Wow…” She breathes, and his lips tick up to expose the sharp points of his fangs as her voice mixes within their shared connection. His eyes open, narrow crimson irises tethering to hers, and she shifts and squirms beneath him, desperate for relief as he pumps his hand back and forth faster. Every stroke draws a soft noise from him, breath stolen from her lungs as she lies captivated by the glistening fluid he spreads from the tip over his twitching shaft, the lewd schlick schlick sounds as he pleasures himself in front of her leaving her shaking all over.

“Astarion,” She warns, pinching him with her knees. He laughs under his breath, pausing in his motions to reach forward and slowly drag both her underthings and pants off. She lies there naked, need pooling in her core, and he shuffles his pants off before reaching for one of the other items he’d retrieved earlier.

“Lift your head up, love.” She complies, stealing a kiss from him before silk covers her eyes and he ties it securely in the back.

“Hmmm full of surprises tonight, aren’t you.” She smirks, not knowing if he’s still hovering over her or if he’s leaned back again courtesy of the blindfold.

“Do you trust me, Ofelia?” She frowns at the odd question, shaking her head.

“Of course, why?” She hears a light hum, bubbling out of his throat before his hands run over her hips. It makes her jump, not expecting the contact, and angry waves of lust grow ever insistent against her skin.

“Good. Just remember- the tadpole, darling,” She nods, still mystified, as his fingers begin to work soft breathy sighs from her lips. They caress her cheeks, dance along her neck, stroke the pillowy swells of her breasts to linger over her stiff nipples, before descending further. She gasps when his tongue moves to lave over the places his hands have been as he starts to spread her thighs, gently squeezing the plump flesh.

“Nng… Astarion…” She rolls her hips up into his hands, redirecting the noises she’d like to be making into demanding whines that flow through the stream binding their minds together. His voice is smooth and soft as velvet as he coos back, lips idling below her navel as he kisses her there.

“Good girl,” She spasms as his tongue gathers the juices leaking from her core to flick lightly over her clit, teeth digging into her lip as she fights the urge to voice her reactions into the night air. Her hands strain against the rope, wanting madly to touch him, to do anything, but it’s no use. The material digs deliciously into her skin, her breath coming out in ragged bursts as he does it again and the spark of pleasure that flashes between her legs and behind her eyes almost blinds her.

“So pent up… so wet… and you taste so sweet.” Her head thrashes from side to side as he resumes his gentle laps over her soaked core, fighting to keep still beneath his strong hands. A few sounds slip from her lips, strangled and soft, and she feels him drag his fangs over her skin in a warning.

“Please go slower…” She pleads, swallowing each whimper that threatens to pour over her lips. It’s so hard… so hard… and he’s ignoring her request, the tip of his tongue pushing the hood back to expose the sensitive nerve as he sucks it roughly. Her hips jerk and her legs tent around him, muted moans escaping her control.

“I thought I told you to keep quiet.” The growl in her mind leaves her thighs trembling and she startles when she feels his fingers grip her chin, a touch on the stern side, as a piece of damp cloth gets pushed against her mouth. She opens up, stifling another groan as her teeth dig into the smooth cotton, tasting herself on the fabric as a shiver pulses down her body at the realization, and every nerve lights up anew.

His mouth closes around her tender bud, sucking lightly just as his fingers sweep over her thigh to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Every light touch feels magnified, her eyes closed beneath the blindfold yet straining to get a glimpse him. She bites harder down onto the fabric when his fingers find her slick entrance to lightly trace the fluttering outline, her muscles seizing and her hips grinding against his mouth in an effort to gain relief. He’s been teasing her thus far, even his lips bathing her in only the daintiest of glances. A growing whine builds in her throat, spilling into his mind through the tadpole, and his pleased hums thunder in her ears as she rests her bound hands over her stomach.

“Please, Astarion,” Her tone is desperate, far past the notion of dignity. When she’s with him, there’s no outer shell. He dismantles her with practiced hands, slow and sweet, and it's both agony and bliss to be known this way.

He plunges his middle finger in to the knuckle and she throws her head back against the cushions, teeth digging into the material further dampened by her saliva as the flames threaten to burn her alive. She utilizes the connection, making sure he can hear every noise she wishes she could voice aloud, and his soft laughs carry through the air in reply- not unkind, but frustratingly smug. He adds another digit and curls them perfectly, her muscles tightening and her impending climax looming closer as he flicks his tongue over her clit.

“Do you think you could be even sweeter and come on my fingers, darling?” She inhales sharply, feeling her walls clench around him in response.

“Yes… anything you want… yes,” He kisses her stomach softly, fangs leaving treasured impressions against her skin, and his free hand tugs her closer before curling beneath her leg, face fully buried between her thighs. Her heart throbs in her chest at the attention, arms extending as far as she can reach to tangle her fingers in his soft hair.

He pumps his fingers in once, twice, mouth latching on fully to suck and lick and push her closer, and suddenly before she can fall off the edge, his face and head leave her grasp. His digits work faster until withdrawing completely to replace his mouth and before she can adjust to the change, the swollen head of his cock is plunging inside, pleasure snapping like a whip over her as he thrusts to the hilt.

“Astarion!” She complies with his request, though he’d been the one to change the terms. Her entire body curls in, the intensity of white-hot ecstasy stealing her breath and raking over her with sharp claws. Her mind lists, falling from the connection before his tadpole latches back on forcefully and she’s gazing at her sweat-slick body through his eyes, watching her chest rise and fall in an effort to come back down.

“Beautiful,” His voice is reverent and soft in the tent, her vision dimming back into the welcoming darkness of the blindfold as he strokes over her waist. She sighs, still riding out the aftershocks of her climax as he throbs inside her, and she feels his hands close around hers before dragging them up above her head. She lifts a brow, curiosity crossing the bridge between their minds, and he clicks his tongue.

“You'll see…” She waits impatiently as his movements cause him to sink even deeper, and she gasps as she adjusts to the stretch. He does something to secure her hands before his warmth leaves her, raw and aching in the space where he’d been.

“Oh, you really planned this out,” Humor laces through the words she projects to him, and with a punitive flick to her nipple, she quiets with a yelp, fire burning hot in her belly at the action.

“Don't sound so surprised,” His tone sends shivers down her spine- deep and flaring with warning. She decides to test her luck further, pulling futilely at the rope around her hands before letting him hear the laugh she wishes she could make.

“Sorry darling,” She chides, hissing as he drags his length out of her. She mourns the loss, but her smile around the gag in her mouth widens at the possibility of where he may end up next. “Just didn't expect this level of forethought-”

“Silence,” He growls in her ear, pulling her underthings out of her mouth much more gently than she'd expected as his tongue sweeps over the wetness left in their wake. “Even gagged you still keep talking. Seems I'll have to shut you up some other way.”

She whimpers with anticipation, only having a second to rub her thighs together once he's left his place between them before the fat head of his cock presses against her grin. She greedily opens her mouth, groaning as he slips inside, and his echoing moans fill the tent with almost alarming volume.

“Thought we were being quiet?” He fists her hair and tips her face to get a better angle, her soft cry smothered by his shaft, and she blissfully dissolves into the feeling of him filling her as his hips move in barely subdued snaps.

“Hells, enough woman. Now be good and stay. Quiet,” He punctuates the last word with a growl and a sharp thrust, slick gushing from her at the sound of his voice. She hums in delight, rosy waves of devotion mixing with the peel of want that crackles through her mind. He strokes her cheek in approval and she trembles at the contrast in comparison to his deep thrusts.

“Alright, pet?” He coos, voice rushing through her and hard to fully grasp as it trickles between her thoughts. She tries to nod, wanting to see the way his hips move as he rocks them back and forth, hunger sharpening into heady desire and he chuckles in reply.

“Suppose you deserve a reward for taking me so well, darling.” She shudders and her cunt clenches around nothing, longing for him in two places at once.

She blinks when he pulls the blindfold up to rest over her forehead, awash in his pale glow as he moves in the candlelight. Every undulation of his body fans hot flames of desire burning low in her abdomen, dangerous and all-consuming. She could stare at him all day- all night. She's especially hypnotized by his spit-soaked length disappearing beneath her nose as her fucks her mouth, her vision going blurry with tears as he starts to rock deeper.

“Gods, look at you,” The words exude awe and barely restrained lust, ragged and restless as they echo back to her. She hums, hollowing her cheeks and swirling her tongue and he hits the back of her throat at last with a shift of her jaw, broken whines spilling from him.

“Fuck,” He hisses outloud, voice barely a whisper as he pulls out enough to let her catch her breath. His face is devastating, screwed up in pleasure and flushed full of the blood she'd given him before dinner. With a loving swipe of his thumb, he gathers the drool covering her chin before pressing the tip of his cock back over her lips.

“Can I feel it too?” She whispers, watching his ruby eyes darken into tiny slivers.

“Gods, yes… Open,” He commands, and she does, their connection strengthening as he pushes inside again.

A bolt of pleasure sparks between her legs at the odd sensation of his entry, and she feels faint at the disorienting pulse of want throwing her into the fire as she discovers firsthand just how lovely her own mouth feels wrapped around him.

“Don't… move for a second,” Her voice rings back, sounding embarrassingly depraved, and she shudders at the way lightly flicking her tongue over the tip feels. He crowns her head with his fingers, lightly scratching at her scalp, and a fever breaks over her skin as he drags himself out before gently pushing back inside.

“Ofelia… this may not be a good idea,” She releases him with a soft pop, feeling their link slacken until only intentional thoughts remain shared.

“What’s wrong?” She speaks low, watching his brow furrow as he releases his lower lip from beneath his teeth.

“I… your bleeding over… gods, it feels new. I won’t last.” A smug grin tugs at her lips and he exhales in sharp rasps.

“Would that really be so bad?” He sighs, stroking her hair, before shuffling down her body. No matter how much she whines in protest, he ignores her, knees caging in her legs as his elbows rest beside her shoulders.

“It is when I’ve got more planned,” She rolls her eyes playfully, huffing a laugh when he tugs the blindfold back down and affectionately pinches her cheek.

With her senses rendered to four once more, she strains for any indication of his next move as she feels him sit up, backside resting against the tops of her thighs as his heavy cock bumps her stomach. She twists her arms until the silk closes around her wrists painfully, letting out a shuddering sigh at the feeling as she lies in wait.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Astarion murmurs, finally, and she tenses in anticipation of what he’s alluding to. She doesn’t have to count the seconds for long, a drop of heat landing on her right breast to singe her before cooling against her skin.

“You didn’t…” She rasps, feeling the web holding her thoughts aloft begin to fray at the seams. She writhes and moans, inhaling sharply when his palm covers her mouth and a few more drops spill over her chest.

“You make such lovely noises for me, darling” He whispers, thumb caressing her nipple as wax drips across her sternum. She catches a finger in her mouth and nips at him, earning a gravelly growl as he presses two digits against her lips. She sucks them in like her life depends on it, teeth closing around a bite every time he spills more.

The sting of the rope and the molten fire trickling down her breasts shred her mind into ribbons, lungs heaving for oxygen as she tries to hang on. She can hear him everywhere, cool breath tickling her skin as he whispers filthy affections into her ear. Her body simmers beneath the pain of the wax and the lightness of his touch as breathing normally becomes a herculean task.

She weeps beneath the fabric covering her eyes, tears sinking into her scalp as a few scorching drops roll down the plump planes of her stomach. Every sear against her skin has her softly pleading his name through the tadpole, surprised to feel their bond strengthen as breathless whines spill from his lips and he experiences the melted bliss of the wax as if it were grazing his skin.

“You look lovely…” He whispers to her, a fresh drip landing on her clavicle to pool against the hollow of her throat. She reacts to him with feeling alone, pulling at her restraints as she rolls her hips against him.

“A-astarion…” Her voice barely passes from her throat, nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

“Ofelia,” He croons, both hands back on her body now. He must have set it down or blown it out, and she sighs in relief as he drifts over the cool, hardening liquid against her skin. “Like you’re covered in blood,”

She startles when the blindfold slides off, disoriented and struggling to keep his face in view as everything blurs together. Through her daze, she looks down to appreciate the deep wine hues of the wax covering her body like pretty splatters of the sanguine liquid he’s so fond of. He leans down to softly cradle her face in his hands and she gazes up at him, eyes glancing off his flushed cheeks, his pupils eclipsing the pools of flaming red as he captures her lips in a kiss full of sharp teeth and earnest, sweet sighs.

She shivers when he moves her thighs apart and sinks between them, cock sliding against her wet slit before dipping further to brush her clit with each pass. Her fingers twitch, longing to pull free and touch him everywhere, but the slow torture of him doing whatever he likes to her has her drunk on the feeling.

His to mold, his to take. His, his, his.

His hands run up her arms and she feels the rope slacken, allowing her to remove them and linger over the pretty red marks crisscrossing her skin. Her affectionate eyes find him and he kisses her again, breath stolen from her lungs as her body yearns to press against him, like this forever if she were allowed. Her arms wrap around his neck and he slides inside her slowly, little noises mixing on their tongues as he bottoms out and they both exhale in relief.

“You always feel so good, Star,” She murmurs in his ear as he presses his nose against the side of her face. A rumbling growl vibrates against her chest and she smiles, feeling him kiss the drying tears near her temples. “So good,” He groans and finally thrusts, hard, earning a sweet gasp in return.

The inferno burns hotter in her belly, every drag against her walls leaving her desperate for more of him to cling to, to kiss, to touch. The bruising grip he has on her hips leaves her dizzy in the wake of his tender kisses, and she strengthens their bond to share the feeling with him. His pace stutters to a halt, each muscle rippling in a struggle to hold back as his eyes fall shut and he bites his lip to suppress the guttural noise catching in his throat.

“You can’t,” He pants, moving involuntarily and she watches a full-body shiver run through him at the sensation.

“Let me,” She pleads, propping herself up on her elbows to gain leverage, and with it, she pushes him down on his back against the soft blankets. She clambers on top of him, wanting him back inside, but she represses the instinct to softly caress the planes of his chest. He shivers, looking up at her, and once she confirms his consent, she moves her hands over her breasts and touches them like he does.

“Nng… Ofelia…” He whines, hands slipping over her hips. The way his features twist in pleasure and his body curls towards her has her mind spinning, flush with the feeling of him.

She wants to make him feel just as good as he makes her feel, wants him to enjoy every moment, as she always does, forever grateful that he'd chosen to share the pain of his past with her and trusts her with it enough to embrace her in this way. She'll hold it all in her heart, for as long as he'll have her, and longer still if he chooses to bury any of it with her once she's gone.

“You're not going anywhere,” He mumbles, eyes stuck on her. She smiles adoringly, running her fingers over his lips before she sinks to kiss him.

She can hear her heart race through his ears, sharpened by his abilities. She runs her hands up his arms, worshiping every square inch with soft fingertips and eventually her mouth, too. Every noise that he makes sinks her deeper, reveling in the way it all reflects on her body and sends tingling pleasure across her skin. The Astarion she knows, with his haughty attitude and snide remarks, falls away beneath her touch and she can’t hide the pride that tears through her mind, knowing it’s all because of her. Every sigh, every twitch, every whispered plea washes over her and it’s almost hard to tell which moves are his and which are hers.

“Ahh… ahh… slow…” He murmurs and she nods, hovering over him, shaking from the promise of having him inside and wanting it so badly she can hardly breathe. She closes her eyes, sinking her teeth into her lip until the flesh splits beneath them when he finally slips in.

“Gods…” Their voices mix within their minds, and she’s looking up at herself and looking down at him, uncertain which sets of eyes she's supposed to be seeing through. Her vision spins and she grows dizzy, mind melting into pleasure as she forces her hips down in one quick thrust that has her sight leaving her in a flash of light followed by the sweet darkness of her fluttering lashes.

She sways astride him, the sounds he’s making loud and frantic, his entire body pulsing with need and blinding sensation. There’s no way they’ve managed to hide their affairs from the rest of camp by now, but that thought drifts from her mind and vanishes among the unbearable heat building in her core.

“Are you okay?” She whispers, reigning in her sense of self as much as she’s able to while laboring under the feeling of his cock swelling and pulsing inside her. She can’t look at him, eyes shut tight as her thumbs brush over his chest, trying to soothe him into a reply as the ghost of her touch drifts over her skin.

At an unspeakable urge, she opens her eyes to lock onto his, and she digs her nails into his skin at the look he gives her. His hands tighten over her hips and she reaches for the stool behind him, letting her breath out in a rush as he lifts her and slams her back down against him.

“Star!” She tastes iron in her mouth, eyes trained on his and thoughts lost to the void as she rides him. With each thrust she loses the dividing line distinguishing their bodies from each other, feeling the insistent demand to take him deeper, harder- anything to get to the edge. The impressions of his fingers adorn her skin in violet petals, each thrust leaving her trembling as she chants his name in her head. Her gaze seeks reprieve within his as he tangles his fingers in the hair at the base of her skull while the other hand rests over her shoulder, pulling her close as they chase the building heat unraveling them.

“Love…” His voice is raw when he opens his mouth, her fingers tracing his cheek as she tightens her hold on his waist to slow to a less energetic bounce. “I love you.” She blinks in surprise, the phrase rare and sweet in her ears- one he never utters frivolously. Thoughts of him dapple her vision, a recollection of every moment she’s felt so sincerely in love with him. She melts into a breathless laugh, smitten beyond the point of no return as they fade back into precious memories, edges tinged in hues of warm pink.

“I love you too,” She sighs, kissing him once before peppering more over his jaw and down his throat. His answering groans have her walls constricting around him as he pulls her against his chest, deep thrusts propelling them closer and closer. She licks a stripe up the side of his neck, reveling in the twitch of his cock inside her before she nips him.

“Ofelia!” It’s just as sweet as she’s always pictured when her teeth sink into his flesh, her neck throbbing at the phantom pain. He stills, lust and roaring heat dancing between their connection as his nails sink into her hips. She reaches down, stealing his hands to intertwine with her own, and rises to resume the punishing rhythm as she dredges wounded cries from deep inside his chest.

The band tightens, walls fluttering when he angles himself and hits the spot that has high-pitched moans marking each upward drive of his hips as she stares into his eyes. His smolder with approval and his hands slip from her own to cover her breasts, kneading the soft flesh and drawing little breathy whines from her mouth. Gods… she could ride him all night.

“I won’t stop you,” He huffs with a smile and she laughs, ending on a needy whimper.

“Need more…” She pleads and he wraps his arms around her back, stealing kisses from her mouth, before stilling her movements and readjusting their bodies. Once he’s settled, she’s perched in his lap, holding onto his shoulders for balance as he lifts her once, holding just the tip inside, before thrusting up.

“Hells…” He sighs, expression contorted as if in pain. “Come for me?” Her eyes fly shut and she nods madly, fireworks bursting behind her lids as one hand snakes between their bodies to rest where they’re intimately connected. Deft fingers slide over her aching clit and she digs her nails into his back as her thighs begin to shake.

“Astarion… I’m so close… please.” She begs, whimpering beneath the soft swirls of his fingers. His face nestles against her neck, fangs hovering over her skin in a vow to pierce and drink and she silently compels him forward, craving the intrusion and the overwhelming maelstrom it provides. Bitten and dizzy, she cries his name, falling apart as he strokes over her and her climax bleeds onto his mind.

His strangled shout is lost amid the flood, following right behind as he spills inside her. He presses them together, shivering and sweaty, the mental thread between them finally severing as they drift in and out of coherence. She caresses his hair, fighting for breath as his lips brush over the punctures in her neck before pulling away.

Heavy-lidded, he appraises her form before softening and she smiles sleepily at him, hooked on the pretty blush covering his cheeks and the blood smeared at the corner of his mouth. As her hands move to his jaw, she grazes the delicate points of his ears until shivers wrack his body and her mouth widens in amusement. He grumbles dramatically before pulling her down to cover her smile with a passionate kiss, hands fisted into her hair as she rocks against him.

“Maybe we should go without for a month next time if this is what I get for it.” She laughs at the disdain on his face, humming softly as his hands run over her breasts and gently squeeze.

“Over my dead body,”

“Star, you are dead.” He lays her on her back, stiff and swelling inside, and she makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat as his lips drop to the shell of her ear.

“Mmm, not happening. I think I'll have you again now,” His teeth catch the tender lobe and her breath hitches, the sweet rolls of his hips drawing more hoarse moans from her mouth.

“Wait… do you hear that?” Astarion stills at her question, quirking a silver brow.

“What?” She shakes her head, listening for any noise but not even the lapping of the water against the docks is audible.

“I don't hear anything…” Embarrassment washes her face in a sheen of scarlet and he laughs.

“I heard Gale cast it thirty minutes ago. Not to worry dear, you can scream as hard as you want when I make you come again. No one will hear.”

“Ughhh!” She covers her face with her hands, shame like a brand heating the surface of her skin. “That’s so humiliating!” He chuckles and resumes his thrusts, apparently serious about going again, and she sighs as her hands fall onto the cushion beside her head.

“Don’t be such a prude, they’ve all heard us before.” She rolls her eyes, gradually forgetting her discomfort as he brings the stars close again.

In their own little haven, separate from the rest of the world- the Absolute, her complicated heritage, and the looming fight to finally free him from his master- the silence shields them from it all. She loses count of how many times they fall apart, the spell from before crumbling before he’s finished with her, but that doesn’t stop him. She holds fast, his neck muffling her sobs as he draws out their bliss with every soft-spoken word and move of his body. He hovers above her when he’s spent, and even as she’s rapidly losing the fight to stay conscious, the smile won’t leave her face.

“We have to get up in a few hours,” Ofelia mumbles, trying to swat him away when he goes to pinch her cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you’re regretting it all,” He laments, expression breaking into those big wet eyes she both loves and despises, mostly because he uses them to get his way.

“Of course not… but I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow, so if I ask you to carry my pack I don’t want to hear it.”

“Deal,” He noses at her neck, soft and sweet as he finishes cleaning them up, and when they curl together under the blankets she presses kisses to his lips.

“What do we do once this is all over… no more tadpoles?” Her question is hushed, posed in such a way that it could lead to a multitude of answers.

He stares at her, wrapped up in his arms, and he brings a hand up to rest against her face. Cool marble against a sun-soaked beach.

“I don’t know. But at least we’ll be together.”

***

Guys- I HATE DRAWING HANDS but please look at this WIP I'm working on. 👉👈

#kinktober 2024 #kinktober: week 3 #kinktober prompts #bg3 kinktober #bg3 smut #astarion smut #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #tavstarion #astarion x oc #astarion x f!tav #my writing #ofelia montez #my art #astarion fanart #astarion fanart wip

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sailorgundam308 · 2 months ago

Text

New nasty up in patreon 🌝

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #karlach #astarion #astarion x karlach #karlach x astarion #hellspawn #starlach #bg3 fanart #fanart #kinktober #bg3 Kinktober #sneak peek

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emmg · 2 months ago

Note

I’m indecisive, so I’m gonna ask for 8 paired with 10 please!

Humble that Devil in a sexy (maybe also disturbing) way 😩🔥

*pulls out a cigarette* As they say, let's go, let's fucking go, I guess.

Let's make this devil suck toes and cum in his pants.

She perches on the edge of the bed, one leg bent at the knee, resting lazily against the frame, while the other stretches out, firm and commanding, pressing down hard, testing his patience. Her toes trace their way up his thigh, each step deliberate, slow, pushing into the softness of his body—soft in a way that makes her smirk beneath her breath. He needs to lay off the wine, she muses, amused, as her foot settles firmly against the center of his chest.

For a moment, her mind wanders. If anyone were to see this scene—this moment, this power, this intimacy—Raphael would lose his mind. He’d break her into a thousand pieces, drag her across the sharpest edges, if not worse. The thought of him stripping her skin to ribbons makes her lips curl in distaste. But how fortunate, she reflects, that the door is locked, the world outside blind.

He shifts beneath her, as though attempting to rise, but she presses harder, forcing him back down with a frown that speaks more than words.

"You know," she begins, her voice distant, her eyes drifting away from him and toward the newest portrait hanging on the wall—its grandiosity too much, too loud, too Raphael. The vibrant, boastful colors, the look of triumph. Raphael Triumphant, she’s named it, with more than a hint of sarcasm. "I prefer how you look," her gaze flickers back between the painting and the devil underfoot, her voice steady, "there."

His hands dart up, desperate, wrapping around her foot like a lifeline, his fingers gripping her ankle tightly. "You wouldn't have the art without the subject, mouse," Raphael teases, too comfortable despite his position, sprawled beneath her.

She narrows her eyes, the corners of her lips twitching as she presses harder against him, watching the tension ripple through his frame. Her foot moves swiftly, slipping past his hands, higher now—pressing into his throat. She feels the tightening of his muscles, the way his breath comes in shallow, strained gasps, and it sends a thrill through her. All those years of honing her body—climbing, stealing, slipping into places unseen—it’s served her well. She’s flexible, controlled.

She pushes harder, just enough to feel the wheeze of air as it escapes his lips, then slides her foot higher, tracing the sharp line of his jaw with the ball of her foot. Her movements are slow, measured, teasing, until she plants her toes firmly against his mouth, silencing him. His lips part beneath her, but she doesn’t need him to speak. Raphael always has too many words, and she’s had her fill of them.

"I think," she says, her voice softer now, a trace of amusement playing at the edge of her lips, "I think," she repeats, a giggle escaping her as she feels the heat of his breath tickling her skin, "that the devil in the painting would do a better job at fucking me."

She doesn’t give him a chance to respond. Her toes press deeper into his mouth, feeling the wetness of his tongue as he opens to her, a low groan escaping his lips. His mouth is warm, hungry, and he takes her in willingly, sucking at her toes with a devotion that sends a spark of heat through her. His tongue laps eagerly, sliding over her skin, coating her toes in his saliva. The sensation makes her pulse quicken, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she watches him.

She pulls her foot back just enough to smear the slick wetness across his cheek, then lets him take her back again, granting him access as his mouth works feverishly, worshiping her. His lips suckle, his tongue licks, every movement filled with desperation to please her.

"You," she murmurs, her voice soft but charged with tension, "are such a tease." The words leave her lips, almost involuntarily, as a moan breaks through when his tongue weaves between her toes. The sensation is electric, pulling at her, but even as her body responds, her mind drifts, her gaze sliding away from the devil beneath her to the one framed on the wall. The painting of Raphael—proud, powerful, and commanding. That devil is the one she craves. That devil is the one she would gladly kneel for, give everything to.

Her fingers, which had been digging into her thigh, white-knuckled with tension, loosen their grip. Slowly, deliberately, they slip between her legs, seeking the heat that pulses there. The movement of her foot on his chest stills. She no longer presses him down, the weight of her control momentarily lifted. She knows he feels it, the shift in power, the sudden pause in her attention—but for the moment, she doesn't care. Her mind is elsewhere, focused on the familiar touch of her fingers, on the slick, aching need between her thighs.

She touches herself in the way she has tried—so many times—to teach him. He never gets it quite right, never learns the way her body responds. But she knows, and as her fingers find her swollen clit, she sighs, her hips arching involuntarily, lifting just enough to slide her fingers deeper. The heat floods through her as she sinks into herself, her body responding instinctively. Her eyes stay locked on the painting, on the figure of Raphael—that Raphael, the one who would ruin her in all the ways she craves.

In her mind, it’s not the devil on the floor with his tongue and teasing mouth that’s touching her. It’s the one on the wall—the devil who would bend her over his desk, papers and contracts strewn carelessly beneath them. She can almost feel the weight of his hands on her hips, the sting of his palm as it cracks against her skin, the bite of his teeth as they sink into her flesh. He would fuck her like no one else—hard, fast, then slow, punishing, and worshipful all at once. He would call her good and a whore in the same breath, his cock buried deep inside her, sliding in and out, taking her apart and putting her back together again with every thrust. She can feel it so clearly, the way his hips would snap into hers, unrelenting, as he fucked her into the hard wood of the desk, the way he’d groan her name as he came inside her, filling her completely. He’d fuck her until she couldn’t stand, until she was begging for him to stop, and even then, he wouldn’t.

He’d keep going. She can feel it, the way he’d harden inside her again, the way he’d thrust deeper, harder, even as her legs gave out beneath her, her body too sensitive, too wrecked to keep up. He’d release inside her again, thick and hot, filling her up, and he’d just keep at it, his hips relentless, his cock pounding her, his teeth in her shoulder, pulling at her hair, taking her. Cum would be dripping down her legs, mixing with her own slick as he fucked it back into her, his fingers dipping down to gather it all up, his hand reaching around to shove those fingers into her mouth, making her suck them clean.

When he was finally done, when her body was a shaking, trembling mess, when she was too weak to even stand, he wouldn’t let her rest. No, he’d push her to her knees, shove her face into his cock, and tell her to clean him off. And she would—gods, she would—her mouth sliding over his softening cock, licking up every last drop, swallowing it down like she couldn’t get enough, her tongue dragging over his skin, her lips sucking him clean with the kind of reverence she only reserved for him.

And if, by some obscene quirk of his infernal anatomy, he hardened again—his cock stiffening in her mouth just as she started to pull away—he wouldn’t let her go. He’d grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her back onto him mid-release, his cum already spilling, hot and thick, splattering across her cheek and lips. The first spurts would land on her skin, but he wouldn’t stop there. No, he’d shove her face back down onto his cock, forcing her to take it all, to drink him down, the taste coating her tongue as more of him, musky, too hot, overwhelming, flooded her mouth.

He’d make sure none of it went to waste. His hips would jerk forward, thrusting roughly into her throat, not caring if she gagged, not caring if she struggled, just needing to feel her mouth around him. He wouldn’t stop until every last drop was forced down her throat, his cock pulsing against her tongue, the saltiness of him overwhelming her senses. His grip in her hair would tighten, guiding her head as he fucked her mouth twice, three times more, his cum still leaking, his body writhing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Her lips would stretch around him, her throat working desperately to swallow it all, the wet sounds of her choking and gasping for air filling the room. And as he finally finished, his cock softening in her mouth, he’d pull out slowly, dragging her face across his length, the remnants of his release still smeared across her cheeks, her lips wet and glistening and cracked. But she wouldn’t move—wouldn’t pull away.

In the aftermath, with his cum still trickling down her chin, she would stay there, at his feet, her breath ragged, her mouth sticky and sore. And then, with trembling lips, she’d whisper his name—Raphael, Raphael—her voice breathless, almost broken. Her tongue would dart out, tasting the last of him on her lips, and she’d lean forward, pressing soft kisses to his thighs, her lips brushing against his skin like a prayer.

Her eyes would be wide, looking up at him with worship—like a sinner begging for forgiveness, like a worshiper at the altar of their god. She’d kiss her way up his legs, her lips dragging across his skin, her breath hot as she mouthed at his fingers, his hands. Her face, smeared with his release, would be a mess of devotion and lust, her eyes filled with adoration as she kissed him—his thighs, his hands, his cock, whatever she could reach.

No. That devil wouldn’t be content with kissing her foot.

"Making me come to that painting," she finally breathes out, her voice thick with pleasure, her thighs clenching as the orgasm rolls through her, her body tightening around her own fingers. Her chest rises and falls in shallow gasps, riding the wave of sensation as her cunt clenches around her fingers, milking the last of the pleasure from her own touch.

Finally, she turns her gaze to the real Raphael—the one on the floor, not the grand, painted devil on the wall. He’s watching her, his chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths, curiosity and lust darkening his eyes. As he begins to push himself up, she doesn’t hesitate. Her foot snaps out, slamming into his chest, way harder than she meant to, but the jolt of power, the raw force, makes her pulse quicken. He crashes to the floor, his head cracking against the hard surface with a sickening thud, the horns on his skull making a sharp cracking sound as they connect.

The impact rips a guttural hiss from his throat, but there’s a moan tangled in it too, and when her eyes flick down, she sees the obscene bulge straining against his trousers, swollen, throbbing. A fresh wave of heat floods her body at the sight of him, pathetic and needy, sprawled out beneath her. The room reeks of him—his sweat, sharp and musky, clinging to the air, the unmistakable scent of his arousal thickening around her.

Indulgent, generous even, she lets her foot slide down his chest, grazing his skin just enough to keep him desperate. Her heel drags across his abdomen, not quite touching where he needs it most, her toes brushing over his thighs, down to his knees, making his muscles tense and twitch with every inch she covers. She pauses there, watching him squirm, watching his hips jerk up as if trying to find her foot, to make her press where it aches.

And then, just when he looks ready to beg, she presses her toes against his cock—hard. The response is immediate. His body jerks, and the noise that comes out of him is pathetic—a whimpering, choked moan as his hips buck up against her foot, seeking more. He’s hard, so hard, twitching under the pressure of her foot, and for a moment, she just lets him suffer, lets him grind helplessly against her.

His hand flies up, desperate to press her harder against himself, but she kicks it away without even glancing down, a smirk curling her lips. His eyes are wide, pleading, sweat slicking his skin, his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Raphael, Raphael," she coos, sweetly, softly, "Beautiful Raphael." She can see the shame flicker across his features, as beautiful in his pitifulness as he is in his narcissism, his body trembling with need. He’s disgusting, he's pathetic, she loves it, loves his face, loves all the wretched parts of him that need to be bled and flayed and devoured.

"Do something," he growls through gritted teeth, his breath ragged and shallow, "before I drag you down here and fuck that mouth of yours until you’re finally silent." His voice is rough, dripping with lust and frustration even as he threatens her. He shudders beneath her foot, his hips jerking up again, desperate for more pressure, more friction.

“Well, maybe if you beg, I’ll consider it,” she whispers, absentminded, knowing he won’t, but the mental image almost enough to make up for it.

She tilts her head, considering his words. With a sigh, she obliges—because she knows he’s not bluffing. If she pushes him too far, he will pin her down and take what he wants, but it’ll be over too quickly, nothing more than a few frenzied, sloppy thrusts and a quick release. One-sided pleasure. He’s still stronger than her, and when he finally loses patience, it will all come crashing down in a jumble of power and frustration.

It’ll be messy, desperate; it’s never smooth with him when he’s in this state. She's been through the motions before, knows exactly how it will play out—his hands clawing at his ridiculous belt, swearing under his breath as he fumbles with the too-many buttons on his expensive trousers. His impatience would turn into frustration, and when he finally gets his cock free, it won’t be slow or sensual. No, he’ll shove it into her mouth with no hesitation, no grace—just raw, animalistic need.

It would be awkward, the angle all wrong, her throat tightening in protest as he slams into it again and again, each thrust brutal yet faltering. His hands would grip her hair, yanking her forward as he drives his cock deep into her throat without giving her a chance to adjust. Her gag reflex would kick in almost instantly, her throat constricting around him, saliva rushing up from the depths of her throat, not from pleasure but from the violent force of him. Her lips would stretch painfully around his girth as he fucks her mouth with reckless abandon, hitting the back of her throat every time, making her choke and sputter.

There wouldn’t be any rhythm, no pace she could control. He wouldn’t let her. He’d just use her, thrusting into her throat with no care for the mess he’s making. Spit would pool around her mouth, dripping down her chin in long, sticky strands, soaking into her skin as she gasped for air. She wouldn’t get a moment to breathe—he never lets her. He’d thrust harder, faster, until her throat felt raw, her stomach heaving with the force of it.

His hips would start to stutter, erratic, as he got close, and she’d know it was almost over. He always finishes too quickly. And when he finally came, it would be a messy, graceless release, his cum spilling into her mouth in thick, salty spurts. She wouldn’t even have a chance to swallow before her body would revolt, gagging as she pulled away, coughing and retching, all of it spilling from her lips. Some of it would splatter on his expensive shoes, staining the leather, a small satisfaction.

Oh, well. It's good for him then that she's feeling benevolent. Good for her that he won't reach that point.

She presses her foot harder against his cock, feeling the heat of him through his trousers, the way he twitches under the pressure. His hips meet her in a rhythm now, thrusting up into her, chasing the pleasure. Sweat beads on his brow, mixing with the sheen already glistening on his chest, the salty scent of it filling her nostrils. His breath comes in gasps, each one louder, more desperate than the last. His mouth hangs open, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, a glistening trail of saliva pooling at the corner of his mouth.

She rubs her foot against him, slowly, torturously, grinding her heel into his cock as she watches the tension build in his body, his skin flushed, his muscles taut. His trousers are soaked with sweat, the heat of his arousal unmistakable now, seeping through the fabric. Every thrust of his hips is a silent plea for more, for her to push harder, to finally give him what he’s begging for.

And then, it happens. His lips start to move, muttering something low and guttural, in the dark, ugly language of the Hells, and she knows he’s close. His hips jerk erratically, and she feels the sudden wet heat of his release, the way it spurts against her foot, soaking through his trousers. The dark stain blooms across the fabric, spreading quickly as he groans, his body convulsing with the force of it, and still, she doesn’t stop.

She grinds her foot harder into the wetness, rubbing his humiliation into him, smearing his cum across his crotch, making sure it’s unmistakable, undeniable. The musky, bitter scent of his release mixes with the sharp tang of his sweat, thick and heavy in the air, clinging to her skin. She presses harder still, pushing his cum deeper into the fabric, spreading it, marking him with his own filth.

"Little mouse," he breathes, his voice weak, barely more than a whisper. His tail thunks against the floor, twitching reflexively—something she’s come to recognize as instinctual, something he doesn’t even notice he’s doing.

"Hm," she hums, her eyes floating away from him, back to the painting on the wall. Her foot slides back up his body, trailing over the sticky wetness on his trousers, up his chest, until she reaches his chin. With a sharp press of her toes, she tilts his head back, forcing his mouth shut, sealing his pathetic groans behind his lips.

#Raphael coming in his pants is canon to me #i don't care what the scenario is #you know he does it #bg3 kinktober #raphael x tav #raphael smut #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #my writing i guess #shortstories

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yennefer-of-vengerbergs · 2 months ago

Text

Elixir of the Colossus

Kinktober 2024 - Day 12 - Size Difference (from this prompt list)

Look at me, writing something for a prompt event for the first time, and just in time too 😆 (it's already the 12th where I'm from, so it counts, if I do say so myself 😁)

Rating: E (18+)

Pairing: Astarion x Syanna (my Dark Urge OC)

Summary: Astarion accidentally drinks an elixir of the Colossus, which only leads to a very tantalising prospect for both himself and Syanna.

Tags: inappropriate use of Elixir of the Colossus, smut with feelings (and banter), sexually explicit content, oral sex (m!receiving, f!receiving), vaginal fingering, established relationship

Word count: 3472

Divider from here

Tags:

@iizven | @bg3-fanfic-reblogs

If you want to be added to my tag list, please let me know in a comment or message!

Read below or on AO3. Comments are appreciated so please feel free to leave them 💖

Syanna couldn’t help the grin that had spread over her face. The fact that Astarion had managed to accidentally drink an Elixir of the Colossus was something she wasn’t quite surprised by, but the results were certainly interesting to see.

As expected, if one were to guess strictly based on the name, he had grown much larger and taller, and, if one were to guess once more, much stronger as well.

He, on the other hand, seemed irritated.

“Honestly, who puts a potion in a wine bottle? Couldn’t they have labelled it at least?”

She laughed.

“I did mention you probably shouldn’t drink it without seeing what it was, didn’t I?”

“Really, darling? That’s what you have to say? What if it was poison, hm? What then?” he replied, despite the fact it wasn’t actually helping his case.

Syanna raised an eyebrow at that.

“All the more reason not to drink it then, hm?” she moved closer to him, “And not to worry, I have antidotes for poison anyway.”

“Here I was, hoping for a loving and understanding reaction from my darling, and what does she do? She mocks me!” he said dramatically, as if he had been deeply offended and wounded.

She giggled at his antics. She then looked up at him, so she wouldn’t be talking to his chest.

Gods, he was tall.

In any case, playfulness and jokes aside, she had a point that she wanted to make.

“Oh, I can be plenty loving and understanding.” she reached up to his face, caressing his cheek, “But maybe consider not being as impulsive? Like you said, it could have been something else.” she looked at him with affection before continuing, “And honestly?That’s what worries me out of all…this.” she gestured in his general direction, trying to mimic the fact that he had grown in size.

He looked at her, eyes widening slightly, in that way that always disarmed her completely, before nodding and pulling her closer to himself.

He then cleared his throat.

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing this was the only side effect it had.”

Syanna smiled.

“Mhm, and it suits you, too.”

“Most things do, darling.” he couldn’t help but smirk, which only made her giggle again.

“Modest, as always, I see.”

“And looking perfect as always, don’t forget that.”

He then took her by surprise, if the startled sound she made was any indication, his hands lowering and lifting her into his arms so he could kiss her. It was gentle, yet firm and full of affection, all at the same time, which only made it all the more perfect and all their own. A small moan left Astarion as he felt Syanna’s fingers grasping his hair, feeling the gentlest of tugs before she slowly dragged her fingernails over his scalp with one hand, while the other arm was wrapped around his neck for support. Smiling into the kiss, he squeezed her thighs as he walked them both over to their shared bed, sitting down with her on his lap, continuing to hold her close against him.

And she felt so much smaller than usual in his arms.

Astarion couldn’t help but enjoy that feeling, especially with how she seemed to just melt into him, chasing his touch.

A sigh left him when she eventually pulled away from their kiss, her lips swollen and flushed from it.

Then there was the way she looked at him, with love and affection so clearly on display. Or how she traced his face with her fingers. And how she smiled at him.

It all made him feel…happy.

Content.

All because he had everything he could ever want.

And all of it was with her.

A pleasant hum escaped him when she had started to trace one of his ears with her fingertips, his eyes closing from the sensation, enjoying every moment of it, every teasing pass she made, back and forth, and oh so slowly. When he opened them once again, she was still smiling.

“This suits you too.”

He couldn’t help but return the smile.

“Another one of the many things that do, darling.”

Syanna giggled once more before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. She then looked at him.

“Is this alright?”

“Oh, my love, it absolutely is.”

Then, Astarion pulled her closer towards him, so that she was higher up, pressing kisses along her jaw until he reached her neck, making her sigh, just as a shiver ran down her spine. His hands had begun wandering over her body, caressing everywhere he could reach before slipping under the shirt she wore, finally feeling so much more of her skin under his palms. But at the same time, he wanted more, wanted to actually see her.

More of her.

All of her.

It was the only reason why he stopped kissing her neck, shifting them just enough to be able to slowly start undressing her, unbuttoning her shirt, sliding it down her arms, letting his own hands linger on her for longer, each touch filled with need - his own need for her, for closeness, to feel her and how she reacted to him. And for how that was reflected in her, how she needed him, how she continued to reach for him, to keep him close, to melt into his touch.

He then felt her shifting slightly, the smallest of groans leaving her as she tried to settle more comfortably.

“Sorry, my leg was falling asleep.” she explained.

So Astarion moved them both - although slightly awkwardly, obviously not quite used to the change caused by the elixir - so that she was laying on her back, with him above her.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we now?” he smirked.

Another giggle. Gods, he loved it when she giggled like that.

“My hero.” she smiled.

“Aren’t I just?”

He kissed her again, one hand reaching for her once more, cupping a breast, teasing and kneading through the fabric of the brassiere she wore, her breathing starting to quicken.

The smallest of whimpers left her as Astarion pulled away from her, getting up so that he could continue undressing her. She watched as he removed her boots, his fingers lingering on each ankle each time. And she kept watching eagerly, anticipation building, as he then reached for her trousers, his fingers hooking both into them and the underwear she wore, raising her hips to help him with pulling them off her. Once he had thrown them on the floor, Astarion’s attention was on her once again.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” he breathed, as he made his way back to her on the bed, “Always so beautiful.” he kissed along her stomach, moving up towards her breasts, teasing each one, be it with a hand, his mouth, or by gently letting his fangs drag onto every exposed part of her soft, plush skin.

“Flatterer.” she said, in between the sighs of pleasure she breathed out from the attention he was spoiling her with already.

Astarion looked at her, amusement obvious in his expression.

“I’ll have you know, darling, I am being the picture of utmost honesty right now.”

She grinned, pulling him into a kiss, soft moans and grunts leaving both of them, her hands slowly wandering and caressing, reaching for him as he got back up, watching as he began to undress.

Her eyes widened once he stood in front of her, fully naked. He was always a sight to behold, even more so in that moment, given the circumstances, but there was no denying it, they would certainly have to find some…workarounds.

“Well, that’s going to be…a tight fit.” she quipped.

“Oh good, puns…” Astarion groaned, his face the image of mock annoyance.

Syanna giggled at that, followed by another grin.

“Fine, fine, how about…a bit of a stretch?”

She fully laughed when she saw him rolling his eyes, still trying to hide his amusement.

“Gods above…”

“I’m a comedic genius and you know it, love.”

He raised an eyebrow in reply.

“Do keep telling yourself that, darling.”

“I will, don’t worry.” she sat up, extending a hand towards him, “Now, get back here and let me spoil you.”

“Now that, I like the sound of.” he replied, already making his way back towards her, his mouth finding hers once more, his hands moving over her until they reached her brassiere, finally removing it, baring her to him fully, before lowering them both on the bed once more.

Syanna sighed into their kiss when she felt his length between them, rested onto her stomach, enjoying the tantalising feel and sheer size of him on her. Astarion pulled away shortly after, looking smugly at her.

“And I think we can still find a way or two to enjoy ourselves.” he purred.

She stretched languidly underneath him, her eyes closed, humming in agreement.

“I may have a few ideas already.”

“Is that so?” he leaned in closer to her, “ Why don’t you show me then?” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

She did so love it when he whispered to her, his voice not unlike a low purr. Opening her eyes, she placed a hand on his chest, gently guiding him to lie down for her as she moved to be the one straddling him. Leaning down, she began to tease him, gently nibbling at an earlobe, one hand resting on his shoulder, while the other traced his other ear, then along his jaw and down his neck, enjoying the small, breathy sounds he made, all for her. All because of her - she truly loved seeing him enjoy himself in this way, with her bringing him pleasure in whichever way she could, in whichever way he wanted, something that always added to her own enjoyment of their intimate moments.

And how she knew just what he enjoyed…

Astarion groaned when he felt her lips moving to his neck, the hand which was tracing his features making its way lower and lower between them until she reached his cock, which she teased just as gently with her fingertips, smiling when she felt his hips moving towards her, wanting more of her touch. Shifting slightly, she took him into her hand, slowly moving along his hardening length, her thumb teasing his tip every now and then, spreading the precum that had begun to gather. At the same time, she watched him, taking in each of his reactions, each moan, each sigh, each movement he made, finding it truly intoxicating, heat already pooling inside of her.

Wanting nothing more than to feel more of him in any way she could, Syanna let go of him briefly as she moved lower, trailing kisses along his chest, his stomach, his hips, until she finally reached his cock. Keeping her eyes on him, she kissed his tip, a smile appearing as Astarion squirmed at the sensation. All she wanted was to give him more of that, of anything he would have wanted, so she carried on, taking him in her hand once more, her tongue darting out and licking along him, all the way from the tip to base, savouring the taste and feel of him, pleased to see the way he responded to her attention.

Finally, she took him in her mouth, her lips closing around him, a low moan leaving her at the sensation.

Gods, he was so much bigger now.

She began moving her head, slowly taking more and more of him, as much of him as she could handle, with each movement she made, Astarion’s hands gripping the sheets as he moaned, which only spurred her on.

Perfect, everything about him, about the intimacy they were sharing, was so utterly perfect…

Her hand reached for his own, holding on to it as he gripped it in return, wanting more of the closeness that they shared, all while she continued to suck and lick and swallow around him, only stopping to catch her breath. Even then, in between those moments, she would still shower him with her full attention, her mouth finding his balls, kissing and teasing and sucking on them as well, her free hand lazily moving along his twitching cock, the low coil inside of him tightening more and more with each moment, bringing him closer to the edge, the lewdest of noises leaving him.

“More, darling…I need…more.”

She couldn’t help but smile, pleased at how he was melting under her touch, panting and moaning.

“Only if you ask nicely.” she teased, her thumb paying particular attention to his sensitive tip.

“You wicked-” he groaned when he felt her tongue running over his slit, tasting and teasing him again, his back arching, his hips thrusting upwards in an attempt to get his point across, “-little witch…”

“Now, that’s not very nice, is it?” she smirked, before licking along his length once more, earning another sigh from Astarion.

“...Please.”

Syanna hummed, taking him into her mouth once more, her tongue swirling around him, greedily gathering all of the precum from his leaking slit, savouring the taste of him. She could tell he was close, what with the way he was gasping and moaning her name, or how he twitched and tensed when her mouth found him, or how his hand gripped hers even tighter than before.

And she wanted nothing more than to push him over that edge…

Her other hand had begun to wander across his stomach, caressing him wherever she could reach, all while she took as much of him as she could in her mouth once again, a low, throaty moan leaving her as she felt each twitch, each shallow thrust into her mouth - so careful not overwhelm her - that perfect outline of him, even that vein that ran along his length, that she so enjoyed focusing on each and every time. And she carried on doing so, time seemingly stretching, with nothing else mattering in that moment, Astarion’s own moans and gasps acting like music to her ears until finally, his climax washed over him, filling her mouth with his seed, which she swallowed even more greedily than before. Once he was fully spent, a dazed look apparent on his face, she let go of him, moving to rest her head on his chest.

Astarion, on the other hand, had pulled her into a kiss, holding her close to himself, stroking her back lazily, enjoying just how blissful everything had been, and still was.

Eventually, he moved them so that she was underneath him once again, one knee then hooking under her own, spreading her legs to accommodate him. She looked at him through her lashes, gasping as his hand slipped between them both, teasing her slick folds before finding her clit and gently rubbing circles on it. She moaned at the sensation, her back arching and a shiver running down her spine as he continued his ministrations, followed by a whine when he pulled his hand away.

Astarion leaned closer to her.

“Look at you, so needy already.” he whispered, his fingers ghosting over her before teasing her entrance, feeling just how wet she already was.

She squirmed under his touch, wanting, needing more of it.

“Ah, patience, love.” he dragged a finger along her, spreading more of that same wetness over her folds, “This isn’t something you want to rush.”

Of course he would be a relentless tease, what else did she expect?

Rush or no rush, teasing or no teasing, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t at least try to get what she wanted.

She reached for his hand, wanting to guide him to where she wanted him to be, but Astarion was quicker than her, moving it out of reach, tutting.

“Naughty, aren’t you?”

Syanna smiled a cheeky smile.

“Only for you.”

Besides, two could play at the game he had started.

She started running her own fingers over her skin, starting from her throat, then moving lower, towards her breasts, stopping only to tease a nipple before continuing to go lower, and lower and-

Astarion stopped her, grabbing her hands, bringing them back up and above her head, holding them in place with his own.

“Whatever will I do with you, darling…” he purred.

She arched her hips into him.

“You could always touch me yourself, you know.” she suggested, looking at him as innocently as she could.

Astarion pretended to think about her suggestion.

“Only if you ask nicely, darling.” It was his turn to smirk at her.

Syanna exhaled sharply, an amused sound leaving her as she grinned.

“Please, Astarion…” she sighed.

Letting go of her hands, he pulled her into a kiss before his mouth made its way lower, nipping at her skin, kissing over it, enjoying the way she continued to sigh and softly moan whenever he’d reach a particularly sensitive spot.

And the way she would run her hands through his hair, or splay them wherever she could reach, or just hold on to him…

And then there were those delightful noises she made when his mouth found her breasts once more, lavishing each one with all his attention, be it by placing kisses on them, or by flicking his tongue over her nipples, or by teasing her with his fangs.

He made his way lower, trailing kisses all along her stomach, his hands gripping her hips as he reached her mound, placing a kiss there as well.

Pulling her closer, he settled in between her legs, his mouth so tantalisingly close to her that her heart was racing with anticipation.

She gasped when she felt his tongue on her, overwhelming as it was. He was overwhelming, in the best possible way, as he lapped at her folds, his tongue dipping into her, indulging in her, savouring everything she offered. Every moan, every little shake of excitement, every gentle tug on his hair and every pass of her nails over his scalp as he spoiled her thoroughly. And especially the louder moan she let out when his tongue made its way back to her clit, teasing and licking before catching it between his lips. Or, even better, how she gasped and arched her back as he looked up at her when he slid a finger inside of her, surprised by the size of it.

Syanna then met his eyes as he went to grip her thigh with one hand, while the other reached for hers, holding on to it, mirroring her own action from before.

He slipped a second finger inside of her, made much easier by just how deliciously wet she was. She moaned his name, enjoying the way he stretched her as he fingered her, the sensation truly incredible to her.

It was almost dizzying.

Then he had found that spot that always drove her mad, making her cry out.

“Gods, Astarion-” she moaned again, so wantonly, moving her hips, leaning more into him, wanting more of his mouth and fingers. “Please…”

He grinned at that, stopping briefly.

“Please what, my dear?”

Syanna groaned as she tried to move her hips.

He let go of her hand so that he could still her movements.

“Ah, use your words, love.”

Another groan left her.

“Please don’t stop…”

His fingers resumed their movements, although much slower than before, making her squirm.

“Although…” he teased her clit with his tongue as he spoke, “I don’t think that’s what you wanted to ask before, is it?” Astarion looked up at her from between her legs, waiting for her reply.

“...Harder, please…” she sighed.

Astarion’s only reply was to pump his fingers in and out of her in a rougher manner, just the way he knew she enjoyed, his tongue lapping at her again. Her breath hitched, her legs tensed, all while one of her hands reached for him once more, the other making its way to a breast, kneading and teasing.

All she could focus on was him and how he made her feel.

On the wet, lewd noises from between her legs. The groans and humming coming from Astarion as he thoroughly ravished her.

On how she clenched around his fingers, the heat that had been pooling inside of her eventually turning to fire, until it could no longer be contained, a mixture of moans and curses leaving her lips as her climax finally washed over her so intensely, she thought she would see stars.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been when Astarion had pulled her into his arms, one hand caressing her back. Probably only moments, but time had seemed to stretch once again.

If only it could actually do that.

Because, being in his arms like that, feeling nothing but bliss and love? It certainly was one moment she would not have minded lasting indefinitely.

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demigoddessqueens · 2 months ago

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Can I request 17. maintaining eye contact as they gather the wetness from between your legs with their fingers and they're sucking them off with a satisfied hum from smutty prompts cus u asked for it list with Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Astarion, Raphael, Rolan, and Zevlor with afab s/o please?

-CV-Non

Oooh sexy 😉😏

KINKTOBER 2024

Wyll

Ever the gentleman, he makes such a lewd act noble. Licking enough to taste you and kissing you back to share it all again

Gale

The mage you couldn’t have fallen more in love with makes all of lovemaking so intimate, drawing his fingers along your lips with the most genteel look

Astarion

Gentle coos of “darling” as he feels you squeeze around his fingers. Loud as can be as he licks his fingers clean, begging pathetically for more

Rolan

He’s been ravenous for so long for such a connection and he gets to have you, sucking obscenely on his fingers as you grin back at him

Zevlor

Strokes himself as he tastes you, savoring with a low “hmm” as he swallows it all

Halsin

Is no stranger to how you make him feel, singing praises of the “honey” that flows from you

Raphael

Relentlessly carnal and lustful, pluming his fingers so far deep into you so he can taste the mix of you both

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pursuitseternal · 3 months ago

Text

🕯️🐦‍⬛ “𝕷𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖘’ 𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙:” 🦇🕯️

Cordehlia and Aatarion embark on a new adventure in Waterdeep. Yes it’ll include Gale (much to Aatarion’s chagrin). 🎃 Halloween Special Companion Quest for “Our Blood is Thicker”

Lord Astarion x Cordehlia | E | 2.1K

📸 by @aristenfromwarsaw

Summary: At the request of their old Wizard companion, the Ascendant and his Raven arrive in Waterdeep the night before Liars’ Night. “A matter of utmost importance” needs their aid, a dangerous prospect with enemy Vampires, secret artifacts, and a good old fashioned Masquerade for the holiday 🎭🎃

CW: one impatient nepo baby Vampire Ascendant, one loving consort, and a silent graveyard in which they pass the time… (semi-public oral sex)

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 1: 𝓢𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓖𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓮

Ao3 link | Ao3 series | Masterlist

The sea air swept around them, chilling and salty, the damp clinging to their skin as they stood on the hill. Waterdeep was aptly named, Astarion thought with a roll of his eyes and pulled his cloak tightly, only the best wool to keep off the autumn bite from his precious skin. His eyes scanned the expanse beneath them. Tombs. The City of the Dead or some nonsense it was named. Stones and monuments sprawled out in every direction, a few mausoleums dotting the darkness here and there. He tried not to think too long on the strongest memory that occurred in such a plot… his own turning, the moment he crawled his way to the surface from his own grave. He tapped the bottom of his staff on the rock headstone beneath him. And it drew her attention, just as he hoped it would.

Cordehlia rounded on him, a glower on her pale face that chided him in the moonlight. “Keep it down, Astarion,” she hissed in that tone he had heard for decades, the one that still corrected him like he was a brat. She crossed over where he sat on a grave, grabbing the elegant black wooden stick and snatching it from his fingers. “Gale said it was a matter of utmost secrecy.”

A snort tore from his nose as Astarion snatched his stick back. “Please, my love. Gale couldn’t be more stereotypical. He decided to meet two vampires… in the City of the Dead… on the eve of Liar’s Night.” His hand gesticulated grandly to the perfect picture of a tawdry horror story. His crimson eyes rolled so far back in his skull, Cordehlia thought for a moment they would finally be stuck there.

“Gale, our friend, asked for our help,” she corrected.

“Well, he could have done it with more panache and less predictability,” he snapped in reply, pushing his lithe frame up from the stone. He crossed over towards Cordehlia, her black leather armor polished to a shine and catching the moonlight. A smirk turned his lips, his tongue wetting them and tasting the salt in the air as he licked. Astarion would never tire of that sight, the way her armor laid flawlessly sculpted over her curves, the body beneath even more deadly since she turned. Since she became his Bride. “You know,” he broke the silence, voice dripping with honeyed seduction, “have I told you enough how delicious you look in your armor, my Raven?” he purred, rubbing his finger over the etched swirls of feathers inlaid over her shoulders.

“You do mention it… every time I dress in it, and every time you undress me from it, my love,” Cordehlia replied, a tone in her voice that was supposed to sound annoyed…

But Astarion knew what it really meant. It meant she wanted him, wanting to taste him just as badly as he wanted to feast on her. “Hmm,” he hummed a laugh, his fingers tracing to her neck, featherlight in touch as he caressed the exposed skin, tracing the twin bite marks in the sweet vein on her right side. “You sound angry, are you perchance thirsty… or is there something else you want down your throat while we wait for the esteemed Wizard?”

Now it was Cordehlia who rolled her blood red eyes at the lewd insinuation, but she didn’t deny his assertion. Nor did she reject his offer….

“Well, my love,” his breath bathed her cheek as he leaned in to whisper, “on your knees if you care for a taste.”

Cordehlia leveled that look at him, the one that arched a brow and screwed her face to say, ‘You’ve got to be joking…’ But still she slid closer, licking her lips. Crickets chirped in the night, the call of night birds was the only other sound to break the deathly quiet in the graveyard. Until she sank to her knees and took his hand in hers, sucking his fingers inside her full and smiling lips.

Then, Astarion groaned, bracing one hand behind him on the closest monument. Her fangs, still sharp as ever, nicked the pad of his fingers, letting his blood coat her eager tongue. And gods, did she suck, hard enough to bring his fingers deep in her throat. Her little hums of feeding tickled his digits, reverberating through his nerves. “Hells, Cordehlia,” he groaned, “slow down, or this is going to be a short dalliance among the dead.”

She flashed those scarlet eyes up at him, opening her mouth to roll his fingers noisily around with her tongue. “Want to bet on how quickly I can make you come undone? Or would you rather be caught by our old friend with your pants down in a graveyard?”

The laugh that left his mouth was embarrassingly breathy, but Astarion couldn’t help it as she bit his finger harder and drank. Dramatically loud sucks made his pointed ears wiggle to hear them. Another loud groan slipped from his slacked mouth as her hands wandered up the soft velvet of his breeches to snap open the fasteners. Her undead breath was still warmer than the night sea air, her inhale and exhale over his length instantly made him ache and tighten. Anticipation. She was ruthless with it.

Her hair was tied back, off her face. But even still, those ginger tendrils at her temple always seemed to slip free, and Astarion twirled them, sliding his fingers into the mess at the nape of her neck, savoring the way her head bobbed and turned as she took him inside.

“Hells,” he cursed again as she sucked with abandon. Her jaw strained to take him deeper, those little hums of delight adding to the tingle of arousal in his sex.

Releasing him, she laved her tongue up his shaft from base to cockhead, laughing. “Think if I make you say that enough times, you summon a portal?” she taunted, flicking her tongue over that weeping slit at the tip.

Astarion just chuckled, pushing her back to sucking. “I’d rather not. I don’t want to see another of Gale’s ‘I’m so disappointed in you’ expressions…” He would have kept complaining, but the way Cordehlia began to take him with such ferocity now stilted his breath and made his knees bend and go weak. A high-pitched whine left his lips as he bent forward, just a bit, just enough to enjoy the sight of his cock disappearing into her sucking lips and hollowed cheeks.

Fingers gripped tighter in her hair, almost as tight as his balls drew up just as he grew closer to that sweet release. “Yes… my love,” he praised, “hurry…”

And Cordehlia obeyed giving his cock just the right touches and licks in just the right places until he lost himself. His gasp of pleasure escaped him, fingers curled tight in her fiery hair as she swallowed his cum. Pulse after pulse, he felt nearly dizzy as he came, the world around him narrowed down to her tongue swirling and her throat closing on his cock as she savored the taste of him.

“Mmmm,” he finally purred, voice warm and pleased as he caressed her cheek. “I think I’ll be able to endure Gale’s presence so much better now, now that I’m sated.”

“Wouldn’t want you in a crabby mood, would we, Lord Astarion…” that warm, familiar voice sounded from beside them, just over the broken headstone near them.

“Shit,” Astarion cursed as he stowed his cock quickly. Then he turned, finding just the thing to irritate him the most. Gale’s face frowning, brown eyes narrowed and head wagging back and forth to say, ‘I’m so disappointed in you….”

Cordhelia gave her cheekiest, innocent grin as she stood. “I told him he’d be caught with his pants down,” her voice was pure petulant taunting, sing-song and mocking. And Astarion gave her a proper swat on her ass as payment.

“So insolent;” he scolded, that playful look on his face.

“Alright, alright,” Gale came closer, oozing exasperation. “Glad to see the time apart hasn’t changed the fact that you’re both a perfect pair of matching menaces.”

Astarion shrugged, “Well, when you look this good dead, and when it feels this good to…”

“Yes, alright!” Gale snapped, “Don’t push your luck, or I will cast Silence on you.”

Even as Astarion opened his mouth again, his face twisted in a sadistic and mischievous grin, Cordehlia interrupted, stepping between the men. “It’s good to see you Gale,” she chimed, her musical voice bringing an instant smile on the Wizard’s lips.

“The feeling is decidedly mutual,” he replied, looking squarely at Cordehlia. And not at her mate. “I am so very gratified you came. Your help is quintessential to the success of this venture that is imperative….”

“Yes, big important mission needs the Vampire Ascendant and his Bride,” Astarion crooned, repeating details from the missive they had received at the palace. Dramatically waving his hand, his lace cuff flapped in the breeze.

“Well… it’s more a requirement that I have the stealthiest couple in Toril, and the best Rogue I’ve ever encountered for such an ambitious endeavor. But before I impart any more of the sordid details, we must find a place more conducive for illicit activities and intrigue,” Gale held up a single finger before his lips.

Astarion’s eye twitched, that little tick in the corner of his right eye. “Rogue?” He exclaimed, the deep offense taken at the title saturating the single word. “You brought me all the way out here in the cold, damp air because you needed a… rogue?” Hip cocked, hands akimbo, face skewed in indignation, Astarion’s voice grew shriller and shriller. “I’ll have you know I gave up throwing the finest, most hedonistic affair Baldur’s Gate would ever have seen just to drag my sorry undead ass here to—”

His words were drowned out as a portal opened beside them, the hissing and sting of magic flowing around them in bright purple waves. Before another complaint could come from the Vampire Lord, Cordehlia grabbed his hand and yanked him with all her own undead strength through the portal.

The scent of parchment and old books, of woodsmoke and mint filled her nose as Cordehlia stepped to the otherside, dragging her love after him. Aatarion drew up short, instantly pulling his hand from her hold. “You’re joking,” he chuffed. “All that secrecy to end up in your bloody tower? I swear to all the gods except Mystra, you are melodramatic. You could have just had us come here where…”

Gale folded his arms. The mere look of chastisement on his face, the disapproving school teacher, so honed in the time since their adventures, instantly shut the vampire lord up. “It's not that I’m being inhospitable, far from, my friends. I’m being watched. This tower is being watched. And it’s a particular coven of Vampires that has me under their scrutiny.”

Aatarion’s stare hardened. “Alright, I’ll bite. Why do you have Vampires after you, Gale? You're about as boring and… tasteless… as they come.” The grin on his pale face showed he meant every bit of his insulting pun.

Gale couldn’t help but give a humored chuckle as he wagged his finger. “Always good for a laugh, you are.” The Wizard sat himself in the well-worn armchair near the fire, the mantle beside him sooty and black with constant use. But that fire, it danced and roared, the very image of merry warmth. After the cold bite of the autumn wind and the wet chill of the graveyard, Cordhelia couldn’t help but warm her undead hands over it. Gale gestured to the chair opposite. “Please, Astarion…” he smiled with equal cheeriness. “Or must I address you formally?”

“My lord would suffice,” Astarion smirked, flipping the tails of his coat as he sat himself down. “But for you, I won’t stand on ceremony, not for a friend.”

Gale’s smile quirked to one side. “Seems your Raven has had a most domesticating effect on you, Astarion. Tell me, Cordehlia, is he housebroken yet?”

Cordehlia snorted her laugh. “Never,” she teased back. “But maybe you had better tell us your purpose before you insult the Ascendant’s sensibilities beyond repair.”

Suddenly, a weight seemed to fall on their companion’s shoulders, his frame slumping forward as he began to stare into the fire, as he was want to do. “I’ve made some enemies, dear friends. In my relentless pursuit of knowledge for the betterment of academia, I crossed the coven of Vampires here in Waterdeep. I had something they wanted. They took this most invaluable treasure from me before I could claim it. Now…” he lifted his gaze to the pairs of crimson eyes locked on him. “I need a fighter and a rogue to help me take it back.”

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verbenaa · 2 months ago

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silver and silk | kinktober 2024

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F!Tav 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 4.0k 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: cunnilingus, choking/erotic asphyxiation, piv sex, safe words/gestures, Dom/sub undertones, the hint of a breeding kink, formal wear, rough sex

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “And we, my dear, have some very urgent business to attend to.” His expression is nothing short of devilish as he practically pushes her inside of the tiny closet and shuts the door behind them both, only waiting a mere moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his lips to her neck.

“Urgent, Astarion?” She rolls her eyes despite the loosening of her limbs underneath the feeling of his lips kissing down over her collarbone, mouthing at the exposed cleavage of her breasts before he lowers himself to the floor in front of her.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

In which Astarion finds it in his heart to help Rin work off some of her frustrations in a variety of ways.

𝒶/𝓃: hellooooo! this is my first piece for this year's kinktober! I'm only writing a few of these due to limited time unfortunately, but this is the first one up. I'm not really working from any real prompt list or anything, and instead I just played around with a few ideas that I felt like fit with the reason of the season 🤭

This fic features my tav Rin, a half-elf bard, who I write about in my longfic to eden. You don't need to read that in order to enjoy this (but I obviously think you should, duh) because she's a total hottie that doesn't know how to shut up 💖 let me know what you all think in the comments either here or on ao3 and reblogs make me cry with happiness ❤️ enjoyyyy 🎃

read on ao3 | masterlist | to eden link

The scrape of embroidery from Astarion’s doublet against the bared skin of Rin’s shoulders is a small price to pay—a necessary discomfort, so to speak—for a tiny piece of stolen joy on a night like tonight.

Gods, she hated these events.

When she had saved the world, she hadn’t realized one of the direct results of it would be having to attend things like this—boring galas with drunken patriars, dusty bureaucrats, and simpering ladies who fawned over and gawked at her in equal measure, as though she were some creature meant to be kept behind a wall of glass to be studied for her strangeness or her unerring charm or whatever the hells other attribute it was they wanted to ascribe to her.

And Rin supposes that, to them, perhaps she was strange and charming.

After all, it was no noble knight or magnificent wizard who had led them to victory. It was simply her—a half-rate bard with a decidedly questionable skillset born from no one in particular, like so many others in the depths of the Lower City.

It had been fun at first, when she thought about the fact that it was not someone from a storied family who had saved them all, but instead someone without a last name who couldn’t even pay her rent every month and survived on cheap tavern wine and bread, not to mention her penchant for cheating at card games.

She had tired of it all after the third or fourth party, of course; niceties from people who would have rather let her die in a ditch than to have been bothered to afford her a single copper as a child falling terribly flat, and by now Rin was downright bored of it.

Even with her dearest’s presence by her side—Astarion’s arm wrapped through her own all evening as they made rounds around the ballroom and danced waltz after waltz, dressed in his finery with its elegant beading and metallic stitching shining in the candlelight—Rin was thoroughly at the end of her rope.

Astarion had dragged her inside of this tiny closet not terribly long ago, sensing the irritation building in her chest that was becoming harder and harder to hide with every sip of wine she drank, exhausted of donning the usual easy and unbothered facade she typically puts forth so gracefully during these sorts of things.

But not even the glittering candlelight, beautiful music, and expensive wine could soothe her simmering agitation, and so he took it upon himself to soothe it for her.

Rin will always remember his completely selfless kindness when she thinks back on it; it must have been terribly hard, after all, for him to have decided to steal away with her into some random closet.

Astarion grabs her hand within his and leads her away from the ballroom without a word, traipsing with her down hallways this way and that before they come across a locked door. Rin’s not entirely sure how he knew about it—or maybe it’s nothing but luck on his part—but within seconds Astarion has a lock pick in hand and the door is opened, the mechanism clearly no match against him.

“And we, my dear, have some very urgent business to attend to.” His expression is nothing short of devilish as he practically pushes her inside of the tiny closet and shuts the door behind them both, only waiting a mere moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his lips to her neck.

“Yes, terribly urgent.” He’s on his knees now, busy pressing searing kisses to the skin of her lower stomach as his hands find her hips and urge her to turn around.

Rin needs little direction, spinning to face the shelf behind her without complaint as Astarion’s hands begin to pull the skirt of her dress up.

“You see, it’s come to my attention that my dear, sweet wife has run out of patience tonight. I’m only doing my job as a wonderful, doting husband to help relieve some stress.”

“How charitable of you,” She says wryly.

The sight of Astarion on his knees will always be one that begins to kindle that familiar flame of heat deep in her belly; a flame that’s only ignited hotter by the sensation of his fingertips trailing up the inside of her leg.

“Incredibly.” He doesn’t bother to remove her underwear when his hands reach the apex of her thighs, simply pushing the gusset of it to the side with his fingers to make room for his mouth, wasting no time as he buries his tongue inside her core and lets his fingers round on her clit.

Rin comes in what feels like record time on his lips, the sounds of her cries muffled against her palm as she leans against the shelf in front of her, careful not to rattle the silver as her body shakes.

Astarion’s mouth glistens with her spend when he rises from behind her, unbuttoning his pants with a fluid flick of his wrist and freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear before filling her in a single stroke, her body still working through the aftershocks of her orgasm as he hilts himself inside her.

Which is exactly how Rin found herself here, fingers still grasping onto the very same wooden shelf and hoping dearly that no one outside of the small silver closet they stole away into can hear the slight metallic clink of the metal goblets and dishes every time Astarion thrusts into her from behind.

He has her bent, her ass jutting out towards his hips as the beautiful gown that he had lovingly designed to fit her every curve is pushed up around her waist in a mess of silk and embroidered tulle. The soft edge of the panties she wore—also designed by him and decidedly more fun to be fit for as he had double-checked his measurements—rubbing against every inch of his cock as he moves.

“Don’t you dare mess up my hair, Astarion.” Rin whips a glance behind her to where Astarion stands, one of his hands sneaking up from its place at her hips with fingers trailing towards the back of her neck as it searches to bury itself into her intricate updo, unruly dark blonde curls all twisted together and held with emerald-studded pins. “It took far too long to get it look like that and I will not be redoing it.”

“But sweetheart, I need something to hold onto,” Astarion mockingly whines into her ear as he thrusts particularly hard, hitting the end of her cunt. Rin barely withholds the moan that threatens to rip free from her lips, her fingertips gripping the shelf in front of her tighter.

She rolls her hips into his, trying to take him deeper. “You can hold onto it when you fuck me again later tonight, if you’re so desperate to touch it. In fact, Astarion, I’ll even give you full permission to ruin it.”

“‘Later tonight’?” He hits that same spot again, and this time she doesn’t hold back the soft moan that escapes her lips. “My, you’re simply insatiable, darling, if you’re already thinking about me fucking you again.”

Rin can hear the smirk in his words and doesn’t need to turn around in order to see it but she does anyway, swiveling her head to glance back at the look of pure arrogance decorating his temptingly plush lips.

“If you’re in need for something to hold onto, dear husband, you can just hold right here instead.” Rin guides the hand currently running cool fingertips teasingly up and down the nape of her neck around to the front, settling it along the line of her throat.

Astarion’s hips slow to a stop as he closes his hand softly around the elegant column of her neck before running his thumb in a soft touch over her skin, keeping his length still buried deep inside her.

“My, what a mood you are in, love.” His voice darkens as he caresses her neck, running his fingers across a set of lovingly made scars that decorate the side of it.

“Make sure I feel it. You can do that, can’t you?” Her hand is still wrapped around the back of his, and she squeezes it slightly to make sure that Astarion fully understands her point.

Thankfully, he’s a quick study and he tightens his grip infinitesimally, dragging her deeper onto his cock with the other hand still grasping at her hip.

“Oh, I’ll do anything for you.” Astarion leans in as he’s fully seated inside of her, letting his lips wander across her rouged cheek as his thumb presses in on her windpipe, nothing about the touch sweet or delicate.

It’s perfect.

“Good. Now move,” Rin rasps as she bucks her hips, urging him to give her more as his lips brush along the side of her face—pressing kisses to her temple, the corner of her painted lips, the freckles that dot over her cheeks.

“Is that how you want it then, my sweet? Does my love want it hard?” He has the nerve to practically snicker in her ear as he teases her, the bastard.

He’s lucky she loves him for it.

“I want it as hard as you can give it.” She grinds herself against his still hips, relishing the soft moan that escapes from his mouth at the movement. “Provided you can, of course.”

“Are you questioning my abilities, darling?”

“I would never dare to do such a thing.”

“A pity, because if you were I’d simply have to show you the full extent of them. I’d have you crying for your release later tonight, my sweet, while I pleasured you senseless in an attempt to show you everything I’m capable of.”

“Please,” She begs for it on a breathy gasp, the picture painted in her mind by those words one she finds incredibly tempting.

Once upon a time, she would have hated the sound of that word escaping her lips, but now she finds she doesn’t quite mind when it slips past her defenses to fall upon Astarion’s elegantly jeweled ears.

“Gods, I love it when you’re like this,” Astarion practically moans into her ear, his cock twitching inside her as he holds her still. “So terribly desperate and needy.”

Rin leans into his the touch of his lips against the soft point of her ear as much as she can with his hand still wrapped around her neck, no longer quite so bothered by the potential of a ruined updo as she sighs, “I learned from the best.”

Finally, Astarion begins to move in long, slow draws of his length against her walls, almost pulling himself out of her each time before pushing himself back in, filling her inch by inch.

“Do remember to tap my hand if it becomes too much. Are we clear, darling?”

Rin grinds against him again, eager for him to finally fucking move. “Like crystal, love.”

She can just barely make out the wolfish grin on his lips in the darkness as his hips find a slow rhythm, rocking into her gently as his hand tightens around her neck again.

It’s not enough to really hurt—never enough to truly cause her any sort of pain or injury—but it’s just enough so that she can feel the precious air in her lungs become harder to access, making it the tiniest bit harder to breathe.

Astarion was perhaps many things, but he was nothing if not careful in moments like these ones, where they played with the heady combination of pain and pleasure, always perfectly aware of her limits as much as his own.

He drops a kiss onto the shell of her ear before nipping at it, grazing the sharp point of his fangs across the sensitive skin. She whines at the feeling and he’s quick to shush her, the hand on her hip swatting at her behind in a quick spank that has her hips jumping.

“I’m going to have to shove my handkerchief into that pretty little mouth of yours, darling, if you can’t be quiet. Although, I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Rin winks back at him in response, biting her lip against the light pressure Astarion puts on her neck while she answers every one of his slow thrusts with a roll of her hips.

“You absolute freak.” His pace begins to speed up—no longer that slow, casual slide of his cock inside her, replacing it with increasingly punishing thrusts that has their skin meeting together audibly in the silence of the closet.

Her emerald eyes are gleaming in the darkness as Astarion tightens his grip on her neck on a particularly deep thrust that has another ragged moan breaking free from her lips. “Takes one to know one.”

Astarion drives into her hard and fast, that one hand around her neck squeezing just enough to have more heat surging through her body, driving her higher and higher with every movement of his hips.

She’s at his mercy and she loves every minute of it as he fucks her just as she had wanted, chasing every thought out of her mind that didn’t revolve around him.

“I’m going to fuck you full of my come and you’re going to love every minute of it, aren’t you?” His hips collide roughly with her own as he whispers low into her ear, the words sending a bolt of pleasure straight to her center.

Rin nods as she meets his thrusts, the hand on her neck tight as she manages the thought to speak a single word. “Yes.”

“Say that you want it, darling.” He loosens his grip just slightly so that she can speak easier, a rush of air whooshing into her lungs as she takes it in on a gasped breath.

She’s barely thinking coherently when she sighs the words he wants to hear, every one of them uttered only fuel for the want burning inside her. “I want it. I want your come, Astarion.”

The hand on her hip curls around her front, fingertips dragging as they explore the skin of her stomach before dipping lower.

Rin moans when the coolness of his skin meets her clit, Astarion running his fingers over it with a teasing brush before moving them lower to collect some of the wetness from where they are joined together.

“Tell me that you want me to fill your tight, perfect cunt up with it.”

He returns his fingers up to round on the pearl at the top of her folds, her body shaking around him as the pleasure builds and builds and builds under his care.

“Please, Astarion. Fill up my cunt with your come, fuck me full of it. Whatever you want, I’ll take it all.”

She should be embarrassed by the words she’s babbling, but she’s far from feeling ashamed by them as they leave her lips. She’ll gladly take whatever he wants to give her—anything—as long as it’s from him.

“I know you will, my love.” He bestows another kiss against her temple, lips lingering over her skin as his cock brushes against that special place inside her with every thrust as his thumb presses harder into her neck again. “Now, be a good girl and come for me.”

She tightens around him as he circles her clit faster, his length hitting perfectly inside her every time. Astarion’s determined to send her over the edge and draw her orgasm from her with the way he’s fucking her, and she’s more than willing to oblige him.

All it takes is a few more thrusts and she’s lost to the euphoria, careening into her pleasure as she comes, her body tightening around him. It sends a wave of heat through her veins, her body shaking as she cries out at the feeling.

She barely remembers to move her hand from atop his to cover her mouth, absently thanking all those months they spent fucking in camp years ago where she learned to quiet her cries as she presses her lips into her palm and moans her pleasure into it.

Her hips writhe, Astarion working her through it with his fingers still turning circles on her clit as his cock hits perfectly inside her, pleasure practically whiting out her mind with the pure feeling of it all.

She’s only just coming back down from her high when she hears Astarion’s moans turning increasingly desperate, his hips rutting into hers in a frenzy.

“Fuck, Rin,” Astarion swears as he loses his rhythm, thrusts growing faster. “I’m going to come, sweetheart.”

“Gods, please, Astarion. Come inside me,” She moans in response, squeezing herself around him one last time as he sucks in a breath.

He hilts himself as deep as he can on one last thrust as his orgasm hits, his hand falling from her neck to instead reach out to grasp at one of the shelves in front of them as he spills himself deep inside her warmth.

Astarion buries his face into her neck, the scent of her sweet perfume surrounding him as he lets his moans muffle into her skin as his hips rut into hers.

The satisfaction she feels as he comes inside her is yet another thing she should probably feel some sort of shame about; though she can’t seem to find it in her to care as his hips still press into her own, luxuriating in the warmth that blooms inside her chest instead as she smiles, still stuck in the dreamy haze of the afterglow.

He murmurs stray words of affection against her as he comes down and his hips finally slow—whispering his love in between the kisses he presses to her neck and shoulder as his hand slips away from her center to wrap around her waist instead.

He’s saying something to her in Elvish that she can barely make out in the midst of her own exhaustion, the feeling of his cool cheek brushing against her overheated skin a balm as he presses another kiss to her shoulder, sending a shiver through her overwrought body.

“I know you’re alive because I can hear your heartbeat, but do speak up so I can know you’re alright, darling.”

Rin manages a dazed chuckle, squeezing his hand where it drapes around her waist. “I can confirm that I am still breathing for the moment, at least. But if I were to have died, that wouldn’t have been a bad way to go.”

“Undoubtedly. But I am very much glad you shall live on for another day.” He presses one last kiss to her neck, right over a set of scars, before rising to his full height behind her.

He pulls his softening cock out of her, his come seconds from dribbling down her legs when he brings his fingers down, swiping at his spend where it threatens to spread onto her folds.

Slowly, Astarion pushes his come back inside her as she moans low, limbs tightening at the feeling of his fingers moving deep.

He brushes a kiss to her cheek as he teasingly curls them once inside her, having the audacity to chuckle at the way her body pulses around him. “Keep it, won’t you?”

“Gods, Astarion,” Rin groans as his fingers retreat and he secures the gusset of her underwear back over her with a little pat before he steps back. “Have I ever told you that you’re really something else, sometimes?”

“Plenty of times. And I never tire of hearing it, my love.” His handkerchief materializes in his hand as he cleans his fingers before tucking himself back into his pants and buttoning himself back up with more grace than she certainly possesses after their little escapade.

Hells, they were going to have to leave this closet soon and assess the damage done to their carefully made up visages. Rin’s confident her hair survived, if a little more mussed than it was, but the same cannot likely be said for her makeup.

With any luck none of it will have migrated, at the very least saving her the embarrassment of looking like a fancily dressed circus clown.

Rin rights herself, ignoring the heat already sneaking to her cheeks at the knowledge that when she walks out of here, there will be no mistaking the activities they had just engaged in.

Especially with Astarion’s come now seeping into her panties, the scent of him inescapable as it mingles with her own.

“What do you say to one more glass of free wine and then we sneak out of here without saying goodbye to anyone?” She fluffs the skirt of her dress as Astarion reaches out to fix the neckline, pulled a little too low on her breasts for her own comfort.

“And deprive Florrick and Ravengard of their goodbye from our beautiful and heroic bard?” Astarion says, aghast.

Rin whacks him playfully on the chest, shooting him a smile as she checks the pins in her hair.

“Ravengard is boring and Florrick is drunk, and if I have to hear either of them wax on about the Flaming Fist one more time tonight I may suffer psychological injury.”

“Alright, darling, you win. One more glass of wine and then we hope to never see these people again.”

They most certainly will have to see these people again, but was the point of being a good liar if you couldn’t even deceive yourself for a single evening?

“Maybe they’ll forget all about us and stop inviting us to these things, if we’re lucky.” Rin runs her hands through his hair, pushing fallen strands back into place before standing up on her tip toes to press a kiss to his lips.

Astarion happily returns it, his lips pulling into a smile as he kisses her back with a contented hum.

His arm loops around her, settling his hand on her lower back as he opens the door and peeks his head outside before ushering them both out of the closet, securing the door with a quiet click before they set back down the hallway.

Rin notices light from a nearby candelabra shining off of something in Astarion’s other hand, the color that of silver illuminated to a burnished gold in the flickering flames.

“Astarion, did you steal something from that closet?” She rolls her eyes before she shoots him a look of reproach for good measure. “You’ve got to stop stealing from people’s houses. It’s bad form.”

Astarion smirks proudly as he brandishes a set of silver spoons, both intricately patterned on the handles and easily worth a small fortune in gold coin.

“But darling, I thought you never wanted to be invited back?” He spins them between his nimble fingers with ease, a blur of metal twirling in the light that her eyes can barely follow the motion of.

She should probably tell him to go put them back. It would be very bad for her to turn a blind eye and continue to allow him to so blatantly commit thievery, wouldn’t it?

She was a hero, after all. Or at least, that’s what they liked to call her.

But when had Rin ever cared much for laws or rules? It wasn’t like they’d even notice two missing spoons in an entire closet full of silver, honestly.

Frankly, Astarion could have stolen much more, now that she thinks about it.

“Fine, steal the spoons, what do I care? While you’re at it, maybe go for a bottle of wine from behind the bar, too?”

“A woman after my own heart,” Astarion sighs dramatically before pocketing his new treasures, swooping down to press a kiss to Rin’s cheek one last time before they enter the ballroom. “Your wish is my command, my sweet.”

Her eyes cut to his as they step into the cavernous room, glittering with mischief of her own as she raises a brow in challenge.

“Don’t forget to make it an expensive one.”

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