#fanfic by eiluned

[eiluned]

Sweet Little Death (Lucanis/Rook; explicit)

by eiluned

Read it on AO3

Info: Explicit, Lucanis/Rook, no Veilguard spoilers, set after the romance soft lock scene. THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED.

Summary: There was only one bed. Clearly Lucanis can’t share it with Rook without losing what’s left of his sanity.

Notes: Thank you to Amanda for coming up with the idea even though she hasn’t played Veilguard yet and has just been on the business end of my hyperfixation firehose. And enormous thanks to Amanda and Trina for beta reading!

Please enjoy the fruits of my 1 am writing binge. Feedback makes me happy. <3

-

There was only one unused guest room in the House of Valor, at least according to Isabela, but they were welcome to it.

Lucanis made sure his expression was set to stony-faced acceptance and followed Rook as she led him through the warren of hallways. Taash had decided to stay with their mother, and hopefully that wouldn’t end in her house going up in a blaze of dragon fire. But sharing a room with Rook was the more pressing concern in his mind.

“Here it is,” she said, unlocking a rather nondescript door and pushing it open.

The only guest room available in the House of Valor had only one bed.

They both stood in the doorway for an awkward moment, Rook blushing slightly and Lucanis trying to tamp down a vague sense of panic at the sleeping arrangements. “Well,” Rook finally said, stepping into the room, “This is cozy?”

The room was perfectly fine, cozy even, but the fact of the matter was still that it had one bed. Just one. And clearly they couldn’t share it without Lucanis losing what was left of his sanity.

“You take the bed,” he said, closing and bolting the door behind himself. “I’ll sleep on the…”

He looked around to see a small table, two very straight-backed wooden chairs and very little else in the way of furniture.

“The floor?” Rook said skeptically, dropping her pack beside the door. “The cold stone floor? Lucanis, don’t be ridiculous. You look dead on your feet; you need to sleep. We can share the bed.”

His stomach swooped at the thought, and he felt Spite’s interest stir. “No, the floor is fine,” he said a little too quickly, and Rook cocked an eyebrow at him, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. “Or the chair,” he added a bit lamely.

Rook looked from the bed to the chair to the floor and then back to him before shaking her head. “Suit yourself,” she said, shrugging and starting to remove her armor.

Someone dropped off food and ale, and they ate in a silence which was only slightly awkward. It was already late, and it had been a long day fighting Antaam on the beaches. Rook stretched, raising her arms and arching her back in a way that made her shirt stretch enticingly over her breasts.

“YES YES,” Spite rasped in the back of his mind, and Lucanis made an effort to stare at the table until her stretch was done.

“Fuck, I’m exhausted,” she said, hauling herself to her feet. “I’m going to turn in. When the chair or the floor or whatever gets too uncomfortable, just nudge me over and take your half of the bed.”

There was absolutely nothing sexual in what Rook had said, but Lucanis’s mind immediately went to skin against skin, his arms around her and her legs around him, the scent of her overwhelming his senses. He stared very hard at the table, gripping his fork so hard he thought he might bend it, as Spite started up a litany of all of the dirty things he wanted to do to Rook.

“You all right?”

He jumped at her question and found her giving him a look of concern. “I’m fine,” he replied, making an effort to relax his posture. “Spite is acting up.”

Rook gave him a little smile that made his stomach flip. “Tell him I said to behave,” she said, climbing into the bed. “Wake me if disaster strikes.”

She fell asleep quickly, leaving Lucanis to awkwardly move the chairs around so he could prop up his feet and attempt to sleep. It was a little ridiculous, how awkward he felt around Rook. He was never awkward; he strove to be cool and collected no matter the circumstances, but Rook… She was beautiful, yes, but also clever and funny and kind, to everyone but especially to him. He was used to being treated with deference or wariness or fear, but not kindness. 

And he wasn’t entirely sure what to say in response to her flirty little comments. He wanted to kiss her, to be completely honest with himself, but they hadn’t discussed their near-kiss in the pantry since it happened. He just assumed he had fucked that up and resolved to pretend it hadn’t happened. 

Of course, pretending didn’t keep him from wanting her so badly it made his body ache. 

Scowling at himself, he crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the chair back digging into his shoulder blades.

-

It took two hours of uncomfortable dozing for Lucanis to give up.

Rook was right; he was painfully tired after too many nights of hardly any sleep, and he would be useless in the morning if he didn’t get some decent rest. Sighing in frustration, he got to his feet and went to stand beside the bed.

It was wider than his cot in the pantry, but it certainly didn’t seem to have been built with two sleepers in mind. Rook was curled up on her side close to the far edge, and there seemed to be enough blanket for the two of them. Lucanis was a compact man, but he still wasn’t sure there was enough room in that bed for them to sleep without touching. And touching seemed… dangerous.

“TOUCH HER. WANT. TO FEEL,” Spite hissed in his head.

“Shut up,” he muttered back, lifting the blanket so he could slide under it.

The bed was made of a net of ropes tied to the frame with a mattress on top, and when he settled his weight in, everything rolled toward the middle. Rook murmured in her sleep as her body shifted, and Lucanis froze for a second, hoping she wouldn’t wake. When she didn’t, he grabbed the edge of the frame and hauled himself over, making sure no part of his body was touching hers.

“TOUCH HER. COWARD.”

He ignored the demon in his head and closed his eyes, sinking swiftly into sleep.

-

It was the best sleep he’d had in as long as he could remember. He was remarkably settled, with no nightmares that lingered.

He slowly came awake, breathing in a sweet scent, warm and comfortable, and he thought for a second about just falling back asleep and staying there as long as he could.

“SMELLS GOOD,”Spite purred in his ear. “SO WARM.”

Awareness shot through Lucanis like a lightning bolt. He and Rook had somehow rolled together during the night, and he was currently spooned up against her back. Her body was tucked against his from head to toe with his arm slung around her waist, and to his utter mortification, his groin was firmly pressed against her ass, his cock hard as a rock.

“STAY,” Spite hissed, looming over him. “TOUCH HER.”

Lucanis didn’t dare answer his demon for fear he’d wake Rook. And he did want to touch her, to keep touching her like this. It was intoxicating, the feel of her in his arms, the scent of her hair in his nose, the heat of their bodies mingling through the layers of their clothing.

But it was definitely not right to be this close to grinding his erection against her, not while she was sleeping, and despite Spite’s protests, he started to slowly disengage. But Rook sighed and caught his wrist in her hand, pulling his arm more tightly around her. He froze, and she sighed again, wiggling a little as if trying to get closer to him.

“I can tell you’re awake,” she murmured, and he could feel her chuckle when he jumped in surprise. “You don’t have to move. If you don’t want to, I mean.”

He sucked in a somewhat shaky breath, which was a mistake as it filled his nose even more fully with her scent. “Mierda,” he groaned, pressing his face into her hair. “This is a bad idea.”

Rook’s hand snaked back to his hip, her fingers digging in as she pushed herself more firmly against his body. “Doesn’t feel bad to me,” she said, and he could hear the smirk in her voice.

“You are going to kill me.”

“Mm, but won’t it be a sweet little death?”

Brushing her hair out of the way, he pressed his lips against the nape of her neck, tongue darting out to taste her. It was her turn to gasp, her grip on him tightening as she rolled her hips against his. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, propping himself up on his elbow so he could better pepper kisses across her skin to the tender spot just below her ear.

“NO. DON’T STOP,” Spite growled, but Lucanis pushed him to the back of his mind.

“Don’t stop,” Rook moaned, arching in to him, echoing Spite even though she couldn’t have heard him.

Lucanis was utterly lost. His objections, no matter how logical they may have been before he was in bed with Rook, vanished into nothingness. He wanted her so desperately, and she wanted him, something that still baffled him. But she was there, in his arms, pressed against him, wanting him, and the why didn’t matter anymore.

Twisting in his arms, Rook pressed her lips to his, her hand sinking into his hair, and oh, was he thoroughly lost.

He kissed her hungrily, and she met him with enthusiasm, tilting her head to let him kiss her more deeply, hooking her leg over his hip. She arched against him when he slid his hand under her shirt and over the soft skin of her stomach, up to cup her breast. 

“Yes,” she breathed against his lips, whimpering when he rubbed his thumb across her hard nipple. 

Her own hands were busy unbuttoning his shirt, and he stopped touching her just long enough to yank it off his arms and toss it to the floor while she whipped hers over her head, leaving her hair wild around her face. The oil lamp he’d forgotten to extinguish gave off enough light for him to see that her cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated, and he didn’t think he had ever seen anything so beautiful in his life. 

She pressed herself against him again, kissing him deeply, her hands roaming over his bare chest and down to the waistband of his trousers. Her pants and underwear slipped down over her hips easily, and she kicked them off, somehow managing to unfasten his trousers at the same time. 

His pants hit the floor, and then they were gloriously naked, skin pressed against hot skin. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips, pulling him on top of her, and Maker, she really was going to be the death of him.

Lucanis trailed a series of sucking kisses across her jaw and down her neck, enjoying the way she shivered underneath him when he brushed his beard against her skin. She arched when he licked at one nipple, her legs tightening around his ribs, and oh, that was a nice reaction. Closing his lips around the stiff nub, he suckled at her, and that reaction was even better; she writhed against him, her breath coming in quick gasps.

Switching to the other breast, he gave it the same treatment and groaned as she sank her hands into his hair, her fingernails grazing his scalp deliciously. “L-Lucanis,” she whimpered, shuddering when he tugged at her nipple gently with his teeth. “Please…”

“TASTES GOOD,” Spite rasped inside his head. “SO GOOD. WANT TO. FUCK HER.”

The shared thought made his cock throb, but he didn’t want to rush into that just yet. “I want to taste you,” he purred, lifting up enough to kiss her mouth deeply again. “Can I taste you?”

“I will murder you if you don’t,” Rook replied with a breathless laugh, and he grinned at her as he slid down her body.

There wasn’t enough room on the bed, so he slipped off to kneel on the floor and pulled her toward him so that her hips were right at the edge. She opened her legs eagerly for him, and he let his eyes feast on the sight of her spread open for him, her folds glistening with wetness in the lamplight. Propping herself up on her elbows, she met his eyes, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, and holding her gaze, he dipped his head and slowly licked up the line of her cunt.

He was admittedly not experienced with this sort of thing. His only real sexual experience had been a few fumbling attempts years before, and after that he had been just too busy or focused or…

“AFRAID,” Spite added helpfully, and Lucanis swore silently at the demon.

But inexperience be damned, Lucanis was observant, his attention to detail superb, his instincts finely honed. And he had read a ridiculous number of rather explicit romances, so he thought he had a good idea of what he needed to do.

Using his thumbs to gently part her folds, he licked her again, dipping his tongue inside of her, and Rook collapsed onto her back, crying out as he dragged his tongue up to lap at her swollen pearl.

His finely honed instincts told him to keep doing that.

In seconds, her body had tensed like a bowstring, her heels pushing against the bedframe, her hands coming down to fist in his hair in an effort to keep him where she clearly wanted him to be. With a hum of pleasure at the taste of her, he closed his lips around her pearl, sucking gently. She cried out again, her hips coming off of the mattress, and he grabbed her ass with both hands, holding her against his mouth so he could devour her.

“DELICIOUS. TART HONEY,” Spite rumbled, and for once, Lucanis was in complete agreement with his demon; Rook was the best thing he had ever tasted.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair, her body shaking as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive nub. “Please don’t stop, Lucanis, please…”

Looking up her body, he met her eyes, and wildly, that seemed to be what pushed her over the edge. She shuddered hard, her thighs tightening almost painfully around his head, and he sucked at her as she came against his tongue.

It was so good that he nearly came, even without a touch.

Her thighs eventually slacked and she released his hair, squirming away from his mouth with a breathless laugh. “Stop, stop,” she gasped, pushing herself back up onto her elbows. “It’s too much, too good.”

Taking a few deep breaths to get himself under control, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her inner thigh, enjoying the way she sighed, her eyes slipping shut for a second. They opened again when he climbed onto the mattress, catching her under her arms to pull her back up to the head of the bed, and she smiled up at him lazily. She was soft and pliant under his touch, her thighs parting again so he could settle between them, and she pulled him down into a kiss that took his breath away.

His cock strained away from his body, and when she hooked her heels around the backs of his thighs, it pressed against the slick heat of her cunt. Oh, he wasn’t going to last long, and he hoped he didn’t embarrass himself too badly.

“Are you ready?” he asked breathlessly.

“If you’re not inside of me in the next five seconds—” she began.

He laughed and pushed steadily into the wet, gripping heat of her.

“—oh fuck,” she finished, the word drawn out on a moan.

When he was buried to the hilt, he had to stay perfectly still for a moment. He had never imagined it would feel so incredible to be inside of her, and he really was going to embarrass himself if he couldn’t get himself under control.

“TIGHT AND HOT. AND GOOD. SO GOOD,” Spite rasped, and Lucanis buried his face in Rook’s hair, gasping when she hitched her legs a little higher on his hips.

Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him down onto her fully, and that contact nearly did him in. “Be still, mi tesoro,” he rumbled, his heart pounding in his ears.

Thankfully she mostly obeyed, just tightening her arms around him. Nuzzling his jaw, she pressed her face against the side of his neck, her own breath stuttering into her lungs as they adjusted to the feel of each other.

“Maker, you feel so good,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his earlobe.

It didn’t matter if he had himself under control or not; his hips rocked against hers, his cock slipping out and back into her. With a groan, he took her mouth in a kiss again, stroking his tongue against hers, sliding one arm under her shoulders to hold her against his chest. He cupped her cheek with the other hand, pressing his forehead against hers when they broke apart to gasp for breath.

She gazed up at him, right into his eyes, and he was drowning in her. Her hips lifted into his thrusts, her body taking him in so perfectly, and her fingers gripped his back, holding him tightly as he lost himself in her. He held onto his control by his fingernails, wanting this to last longer but hurtling inevitably toward the sweetest oblivion.

“It’s all right,” she murmured, kissing him deeply, holding him even tighter. “You can let go, Lucanis.”

He hadn’t realized he’d needed to hear that until the words fell from her lips. All of the tension in him, all of the anxiety and fear and desperation, suddenly snapped.

Throwing his head back, he shouted out her name. Spasms wracked him, his cock throbbing as he spilled deep inside her welcoming body. She pressed wet kisses against the corded line of his neck, murmuring encouragement and pleasure and sweet nothings, holding him as he slowly came back into himself. It was like dying and being reborn in a burst of fire, and he had never felt anything like it before.

They lay there for a long moment, kissing languidly, her hands caressing him so gently. He hadn’t dreamed it could be so good, nor that he needed this so badly. He needed the release of their bodies coming together so intimately. He needed the acceptance of her embrace, her kisses, her soft eyes meeting his, and her smiles and her affection. And he didn’t know if he would be able to live without it after this night.

When his softening cock slipped free from her body, Rook nudged him to roll to the side and got up from the bed, padding into the little adjoining privy. Lucanis suddenly felt awkward again; what the hell was he supposed to do? Did she leave because she needed to get away?

“STOP THINKING,” Spite grumbled. “JUST WAIT.”

A moment later, she came back into the room, still gloriously naked, her hair spilling over her shoulders and her hips swaying with each step. He gasped in shock when a wet cloth smacked into his chest, and she laughed in delight. “So that’s how to catch you by surprise,” she teased, climbing back onto the bed. “Just walk around naked, and you’re so distracted that you’d never see it coming.”

“I’d be happy to see you coming,” he teased back, sitting up.

“Oh, I see you’ve regained your faculties,” she said with a grin, unabashedly watching as he cleaned himself up with the cloth. “Should I be on my guard for more seductive banter?”

The cloth landed on the floor with a splat, and he pressed his lips against hers, loving the way she moaned and melted into his kiss.

Rook curled up against him, pulling the blanket over their entwined bodies, and she quickly fell asleep with her cheek resting on his chest. Her hair smelled so sweet, and her body was warm and soft against his, wrapped around him, relaxed and comfortable like she was at home in his arms. The demon in him purred in contentment, settled like he had never been before.

Lucanis was so lost.

But maybe he needed to be.

[starjones-on-ao3]

Shout-out to fanfic writers from twenty years ago...

One late night in December 1999, I stumbled by chance of a Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan slash story. I didn’t know fanfic was a thing, and suddenly I found myself in the most wonderful rabbit hole. I quickly switched to reading het featuring one or both of my favorite hunks.

This was at a time where you either read the stories on your home computer, or printed them. None of them can be found online now. They were from various Geocities websites, Yahoo Groups, Listservs, defunct archives such as Jedi Hunks, Corellia, and others...

I gradually stopped reading fanfiction a few months after I had started. But through the years and many moves, I kept my precious binder with my favorite stories, even if I was not going to open it for years at a stretch.

I wanted to aknowledge the work of some writers whose names I can track in my binder : Emmy, Ambur, Kayla, Eiluned, Jenn.

To you dear writers, thank you :)

[eiluned]

Coffee in Bed (Lucanis/Rook fic; explicit)

by eiluned

Read it on AO3

Info: Explicit, Lucanis/Rook, fluffy smut. No spoilers! Set post-game.

Summary: Lucanis is a busy man. Can Rook entice him back into bed?

Notes: Secret Santa fill for Firechocobro! I hope you enjoy!

There was nothing in the world more luxurious than waking up wrapped in soft sheets on a thick feather mattress.

Correction: there was something more luxurious, and that was waking up wrapped in soft sheets on a thick feather mattress with Lucanis wrapped around her.

Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and looked around the still-dim bedroom, but she was alone.

“Hmph,” she grumbled and fell back onto the lofty pillows. “Where is he?”

As if she had summoned him with her complaint, the door opened and Lucanis appeared, two steaming mugs in hand, and the rich scent of coffee filled the air. “Good morning,” he said with a smile.

“Good morning,” she replied, stretching in just the right way to make the sheets slip down and expose her naked torso. “Mind telling me why you aren’t in this bed?”

He carefully put the coffee down on the bedside table, clearing his throat the way he did when he was trying to not be turned on by her. “It’s a busy morning,” he said, resting his hip on the edge of the mattress. “The First Talon doesn’t just get to sleep in whenever he wants.”

Rook propped herself up on the heap of pillows against the headboard, and watched as he fought an internal battle to not stare at her breasts. Smothering a laugh, she cocked her head at him. “But as the First Talon, don’t you get to make your own schedule?” she asked as innocently as she could. “The meetings can’t happen if you’re not there, you know.”

He laughed, sitting a little more solidly on the bed, his eyes drifting downward from her face before snapping back up to her eyes. Victory was almost in her grasp, she thought, and fought the urge to smirk.

“Yes, but if the other Talons all show up and I don’t?” he said, brushing at an imaginary speck of lint on his trousers. “I mean, there is only one of me and seven of them.”

“Teia would fight on your side,” she said with a grin. “Come back to bed with me.”

Lucanis pressed his lips together, clearly conflicted, and shook his head. “I have work to do, you know,” he said, trying to look stern.

And failing miserably.

He leaned a little closer to her, his hand planted on the mattress, his eyes roaming hungrily over her body.

“Is it time sensitive?” she asked, reaching over to trail her fingers across the back of his hand. “Couldn’t it wait a few hours?”

He stood abruptly, stalking across the room and out the door.

Rook blinked. Apparently victory was not in her grasp. “Right,” she said aloud in the empty room. “I guess it is time sensitive.”

With a sigh, she picked up her cup of coffee and sat against the headboard, taking a sip. He’d made it exactly how she liked, and she smiled into the mug. She knew she was being selfish, wanting him to stay with her when she knew he had so many responsibilities as First Talon. She just couldn’t help wanting him.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the delicious scent, and was just about to take another sip when the bedroom door swung open, hitting the wall with a bang. Swiftly putting her coffee back on the table, Rook watched Lucanis kick the door shut before stalking across the room, already unbuttoning his shirt.

Victory, she thought with a little thrill of excitement.

“You are a menace,” he growled playfully.

Rook let out a little shriek of laughter when he whipped the covers back and grabbed her by the ankle, pulling her flat onto her back. “Ah, but you love that about me,” she said with a grin, watching as he stripped the shirt off of his arms and tossed it aside.

“I do,” he agreed, crawling onto the bed and settling between her legs.

She had another pithy comment ready to go, but he kissed her so thoroughly that it completely slipped her mind. Sinking her hands into his hair, she let him take her mouth, let him wrap his arms around her, let him press her down into the soft mattress.

Lucanis always kissed her like he was drowning and she was air. His kisses were heady and overwhelming, and always so, so good. She hummed her pleasure against his mouth, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“You,” he said, his voice a low rumble as he trailed kisses from her mouth across her jaw, “are such a distraction.”

He followed that with his tongue pressed against the pulse in her throat, and she arched up against his body. “I can’t get anything done,” he continued, gently setting his teeth into the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, “because I am always thinking about you.”

A breathless laugh escaped her, but it quickly turned into a moan when he slid down to take her nipple in his mouth. “Lucanis,” she whispered, sinking her hands into his hair.

With a smirk, he sucked at her until she was writhing and panting before pulling away. “I’m always thinking about kissing you,” he purred, licking at her other breast for a second before kissing his way down her stomach. “Touching you. Tasting you…”

Rook gasped when he pushed her thighs apart, settling on his stomach on the mattress. He looked up at her, silently asking for permission, and when she nodded, he eagerly pressed his open mouth between her legs.

Her breath caught in her throat, a choked moan wrenched from her, at the feel of his tongue against her clit. He was a master at reading her body and knowing exactly what to do to drive her mad as quickly as possible. And he was also a master at knowing exactly what to do to draw it out as long as possible, to torture her with pleasure. It was always a surprise, which way he would decide to go.

She sank her hands into his hair, tugging at it lightly, and he groaned against her, lapping at her entrance. He liked to watch her while he licked her cunt, his dark eyes cut upward underneath furrowed brows, and damned if that didn’t do it for her.

When he moved up to lick her clit, she nearly came off the bed. With a low laugh that vibrated straight through her, he closed his lips around the sensitive little bud and sucked gently for a second. She bucked up, but he caught her hips in his hands and pressed her down into the mattress, holding her still.

So it was going to be torture.

"Lucanis, please," she whined, and he chuckled again, holding her gaze as he licked a slow path up her cunt.

"Be patient, cariño," he replied with a wicked grin, nudging his nose against her clit. "You can't just demand that I put aside my responsibilities and then expect me to rush."

Pushing her legs up and apart, he swiped his tongue up her cunt again before delicately licking at her clit, soft flicks that wound her up tight but weren’t firm enough to actually push her over the edge. She shuddered, reaching up to fist her hands in the pillows, desperate to move bu pinned down by his hold on her thighs.

He waited until she was right at the edge, panting and begging, and then…

He stopped.

Rook wasn’t entirely sure what came out of her mouth when he lifted his head, but he laughed and squeezed her thighs. “That wasn’t a very nice thing to say,” he teased, grinning at her while she glared daggers at him.

“That wasn’t a very nice thing to do,” she retorted, squealing when he put his tongue back to work.

Over and over he took her right up to the edge, always stopping just short, until she was a desperate, sobbing mess. “Please please, Lucanis,” she whimpered, her legs shaking in his grasp. “Please please please—”

“Mm, I suppose I should take pity on you,” he said with a smirk, dipping his head and sucking firmly on her clit.

The orgasm shot through her like lightning, so much stronger for how long he had teased her and kept her right on the edge. She bucked against his mouth, crying out his name, pushing against his hold on her legs. He was up on his knees before she had stopped shuddering, shoving his trousers down his thighs and kicking them off.

Taking her hands, he pulled her upright and flipped her over, settling her on her knees. “Hold on,” he said, his voice a rumble that she felt all the way down to her toes.

Still shaking, she braced herself on the headboard, clinging to the smooth wood. “Maker, you are so beautiful,” he breathed, pressing kisses up her spine. “I love to watch you come apart for me.”

Rook couldn’t speak; she just arched against him and sighed, turning her head to meet his mouth when he kissed his way across her shoulder. “Are you ready?” he whispered against her ear.

He waited for her to nod before fitting his cock against her opening and entering her slowly. The feel of him stretching her open wrenched a moan from her throat. It didn’t matter how many times they had made love; that first push always took her breath away.

Answering her moan with one of his own, he held her hips as he bottomed out inside of her. “So good,” he murmured, stroking a hand up her flank.

She arched again under his touch, pushing back against his hips, hiding a smile in the pillows when he groaned. He followed her lead, leaning forward to brace his hands on either side of hers on the headboard, and pressed his chest to her back as he began to move inside her.

It was good, so good, every time he took her. He fit against her perfectly, his body curving around hers, penning her in, but somehow she never felt trapped by it. She felt safe; she felt cherished; she felt loved.

“Lucanis,” she breathed, grasping his hands as he thrust slowly and steadily into her.

“Mi corazón,” he moaned softly, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot below her ear, lacing his fingers into hers. “You are so good, my love.”

Despite his languid pace, it wasn’t long before he was panting against her ear, his thrusts hitching in their rhythm. Rook turned her head to meet his lips, putting every bit of love she felt into her kiss. With a final thrust, he pushed deep and moaned against her mouth, his hips jerking as he spilled into her.

-

“Do you need to get up?” she asked a little while later, tucked against his side, stroking his chest idly.

He sighed in contentment, stroking her hair and pressing a kiss to her temple. “No, mi amor,” he replied, holding her a little closer. “Everything can wait. I just want to be with you.”

-

the next morning

Lucanis woke up slowly, a luxury he still hadn’t gotten used to. The bed was soft and warm, the sheets smelled like Rook’s perfume…

With a frown, he pushed himself up on an elbow and found the other side of the bed empty.

As if on cue, the door swung open. Rook stepped in, holding two steaming mugs of coffee, and she grinned at him as she closed the door with her hip. “Good morning,” she said, sauntering across the room.

Leaning back against the pillows, Lucanis ran a hand through his hair and watched her hips sway. “Come back to bed,” he replied, his voice still rough with sleep.

“Get back in bed with you?” she teased, setting the coffee on the bedside table. “Don’t you know I have important Crow business to attend to?”

Her cheeks flushed at the heated look he gave her. “Come here.”

Rook slid back into bed, back into his arms, and they wasted the whole morning together.

[eiluned]

Phantom Touch (Lucanis/Rook/Spite fic; explicit)

by eiluned

Read it on AO3

Info: Explicit, Lucanis/Rook/Spite with some Lucanis/Spite if you squint, PWP, no Veilguard spoilers, a little bit of demon participation.

Summary: "Lucanis?"

"Mm?"

“Where is Spite right now?”

Notes: Thanks to Amanda for beta reading and Trina for listening to me complain about running out of synonyms for ghostly.

Written with my Crow Rook in mind, but she's not described other than being a woman, so feel free to sub your Rook in there if you want.

Feedback makes my day. 💜

-

His hands were firm on her hips, guiding each slow roll, encouraging her to take her pleasure from his body. Rook shivered, bracing her hands on Lucanis’s chest, focusing so intently on the feel of his cock moving inside her that she almost didn’t notice it.

A ghostly touch on the curve of her shoulder.

A draft, she thought, tilting her hips to grind against her lover. He moaned beneath her, fingers digging into her flesh.

And another touch, the sensation of something large but insubstantial pressing against her back.

She stilled, because that was definitely not a draft. “Lucanis?” she said, her voice husky from how he’d already made her cry out.

“Mm?” he hummed, bucking his hips gently underneath her.

“Where is Spite right now?”

It was his turn to go still, his brows furrowing.

“I know he’s in you,” Rook clarified, “But I also know that sometimes you can see him outside of you. Can you see him right now?”

Lucanis pushed himself up on his elbows, the movement jostling her on his cock and making her breath catch. “He’s… he’s right behind you,” he said, giving her a questioning look.

Phantom fingertips trailed down her spine, a touch so delicate that it was almost nonexistent, and she shivered, sighed.

“Is he touching me?”

The insubstantial body pressed against her back again, phantom fingers ghosting down her arms, and Lucanis stared up at her with wide eyes. “Can you feel it?” he asked. “He is touching you, but… how can you feel it?”

Rook shivered again, closing her eyes to focus on the sensations. “I can feel… something,” she whispered.

Lucanis was quiet for a moment before saying, “He wants to know if he can touch you. He should have asked before doing it in the first place…”

Rook opened her eyes and grinned down at him. “Now he knows better,” she said, rocking her hips against Lucanis.

His breath hitched, his eyes slipping shut for a second at the feel of her. “I don’t understand how you can feel him.”

“I don’t want to understand, not right now. I just want to feel it.”

Lucanis made eye contact with the space over her shoulder, his lips parted, suddenly breathless. “Touch her,” he growled.

The timbre of his voice was enough to make her clench around him, but the ghostly hands were suddenly on her, glancing touches across her stomach, her breasts, her hips, fingertips grazing across her lips. Lucanis planted his feet on the bed and thrust up into her, his own hands grasping her hips to hold her still.

She could feel lips like a breath against her shoulder, and she swept her hair out of the way, baring her neck. The lips whispered across her skin, gossamer kisses up the curve of her neck, an intangible tongue tracing the long line of her ear. Spite touched her like Lucanis would touch her but it was ethereal, like being touched in a dream.

With a shudder, she put her hands on Lucanis’s chest again, desperate to touch something solid. A ghostly hand wrapped around her throat, the pressure barely there but enough to make her gasp and grind down onto Lucanis.

“Gentle,” Lucanis chided breathlessly, his own hands stroking up and down her sides, and it took her a second to realize he was talking to his demon and not to her.

A frisson of pleasure shivered through her as Spite licked along her ear again, his body brushing against her back, and she wished she could hear the demon. She knew he was speaking because Lucanis flushed, his mouth falling open on a moan, and he fucked up into her harder. “What… what did he say?” Rook gasped.

“He… he wants to fuck you,” Lucanis groaned, guiding her hips to circle against him. “He wants to make you come. He wants me to come inside you.”

Rook whimpered, knowing it wouldn’t take much more to get her there. She had no idea how it was even possible that she could feel what Spite was doing to her, but the how didn’t matter right then. What mattered were the sensations, the heat of Lucanis’s hands on her and the near-chill of Spite’s touch, the pleasurable dichotomy twisting up inside of her.

An incorporeal hand clutched at her breast, the sensation suddenly firmer, more real, and invisible fingers plucked at her nipple. His other hand still held her by the throat, and the ghostly mouth sucked at her earlobe. Lucanis brushed his warm, solid thumb against her clit, and it was suddenly all too much.

With a ragged wail, Rook came, climax ripping through her with breathtaking force. She bucked against him, her body shaking with pleasure. It was so strong that she couldn’t hold herself upright and collapsed onto his chest, cunt contracting around his cock. He wrapped her up in his arms, driving into her hard and fast.

Lucanis let out a slightly muffled cry, as if a mouth were pressed against his, when he came just after her, his hands clutching at her back and his cock pulsing inside of her, his body twisting underneath hers.

-

The ghostly touch vanished after a long moment. Lucanis sighed deeply, and when Rook managed to prop herself up on her elbow, she saw a flash of purple in his dark eyes. But it disappeared in a blink, and all that was left was her lover gazing up at her, a sated smile on his lips.

Her human lover, anyway.

“That was…” she had to take a second to let her brain regain the ability to construct sentences. “That was incredible. How was that even possible?”

Lucanis leaned up to kiss her, his tongue sliding across her lower lip. “I have no idea,” he murmured. “But I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

A smirk spread across her face. “How long has he been wanting to do that?” she asked, and Lucanis chuckled, his cheeks flushing a little.

“A long while,” he admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “He usually just watches, if he decides to leave my body. That was the first time he’s… tried anything. I’m sorry that he touched you without asking. I should have—”

“It’s all right,” Rook interrupted with a smile, stroking his beard and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Just let me know next time he wants to participate.”

His brow furrowed for a second, clearly listening to Spite, and he shook his head with a tired laugh. “No. No, not right now.”

End note: Does this need a sequel? 😈

[eiluned]

Fic: Dangerous [BG3; Astarion/Tav, Explicit]

by eiluned

Read on AO3

Summary: It grows in his mind, the thought of coming inside her. What would it feel like to let go, to lose control in the sweet heat of her body?

Tags: Astarion/Tav, porn with feelings, mild CW for Astarion briefly thinking about his sexual trauma.

Notes: The continuing smutty adventures of Tavriel and Astarion. This one's set in act 1. Thanks to Amanda for the beta read!

If you're new to my stuff, Tavriel is my high elf bard, and I'm slowly writing up her romance with Astarion (and later, their romance with Halsin).

Comments encourage me to write faster. I'd love to hear what you think!

~

The first time he fucks Tavriel, he's shocked to find himself enjoying it.

He's fucked or been fucked by hundreds. Sex is rote, repetitive, something to tolerate, something he has to do so he won't have to be whipped or locked in a crypt or otherwise tortured. The physical pleasure is there sometimes, but it's usually not enough to overcome the distaste or revulsion or sheer boringness of it all.

But Tav is playful, teasing, seductive in a way he's not used to being on the receiving end of. And she's objectively attractive, with her beautiful face and striking green eyes and the soft curls of black hair streaked through with wine-purple, the surprising curves of her petite body and the fullness of her breasts. It's no real chore to sleep with her, to use sex to ingratiate himself with her, but he wasn't expecting to get swept up in the pleasure of it.

She rolls them over, spreading her legs so he can settle between them, and her moan as he drives his cock back into her makes pleasure twist up at the base of his spine. Her hips lift to meet his thrusts, and her hands slide up his chest, fingertips teasing his nipples. Her body is hot, and his own soaks up that warmth so that it feels a bit like standing in the sun when he presses himself against her fully.

With a smile that curls one side of her lush mouth, she lifts her chin, baring her neck in a blatant invitation. And how can he say no? She offers herself so sweetly, so fully, and he can't resist.

Her breath hitches in her throat when his fangs pierce her skin, and her cunt tightens around him as he draws blood from the little wounds into his mouth. Heat floods his body with the first taste of her, and oh, but she tastes different than the last time he drank from her, richer, more luscious. He knows she gets aroused when he bites her; he can hear her heartbeat change, smell it on the air, but he hadn't realized that he could taste it in her blood. It was sweet, the flavor of her desire, a smaller component of her taste before but now it overwhelms him, bursting on his tongue like honeyed wine.

She shudders, grinding against him with a cry as she suddenly comes, and just as suddenly, all the pleasure that had been coiling up inside him unwinds.

Gasping, he rises onto his knees, pulling out of her a split second before an orgasm rips through him. It's shocking how good it feels, especially when her warm hand wraps around his cock, stroking him as he spurts seed onto her belly and breasts.

He can't remember the last time he came so hard, the last time he let himself be overwhelmed like this. It feels dangerous, but it's too good for him to care in that moment.

--

"Couldn't get enough?"

Her voice is a purr, her clever hands unlacing his trousers, and she smirks at him when he arches into her touch.

He's supposed to be in control here, but his body responds to her without his brain's input. And that's dangerous, so he catches her wrists and puts them behind her back before kissing her hard.

He can't lose control again, not if he wants to keep the scales balanced in his favor.

But her body is warm and pliant, breasts molding to the shape of his hands, her cunt wet and hot. He fucks her on her hands and knees, working her clit with his fingers until she comes with a hoarse moan.

And he's there just as suddenly as the last time, pulling out and coming on her back.

It's dangerous, but it's so good that he doesn't want to stop. He wants more.

--

It grows in his mind, the thought of coming inside her. What would it feel like to let go, to lose control in the sweet heat of her body? To watch her walk back to camp and know his cum is soaking her underclothes? 

He's never come inside anyone, not that he can remember. He never wanted to; it would have felt like he was giving too much of himself. It was his one way of maintaining his sense of self while out doing Cazador's bidding.

But he isn't doing that bastard's bidding now. He is fucking Tavriel because he wants to. Because it will ensure that she will have his back when the time comes. Because it feels good, even muddled up with all the pain and guilt that he can't seem to escape. Because he wants her.

And he wants to know how it feels to come inside of her.

The thought becomes an obsession, one that he only entertains in the privacy of his tent, his cock in his hand and his eyes clenched shut, thinking of nothing but her: the heat of her body, the softness of her skin, the scent of her hair. Her throaty gasps, the way she moans his name when she comes…

He remembers how it feels to sink into her cunt, how wet with desire she is, how wet she gets for him. The clenching, rippling feel of her climax, the way she clutches at his back or his arms or his ass as she writhes against him. He imagines how it would feel to drive his cock deep and let go, to spill inside the grasping, delicious heat of her body. 

He bites back a gasp and comes, hips bucking, heels digging into his bedroll, his seed splattering in ropes onto his chest. 

Emotions roil in his head, but he doesn't want to deal with them. He has a plan; he'll stick to it.

He wipes himself clean and stares at the ceiling of his tent.

—

She’s bent forward, hands gripping the cave wall, as he fucks her from behind. Her skin glows with a sheen of sweat in the lantern light, warm like sunlight in the depths of the Underdark, and he feels desire winding up tight in his body.

“Gods, yes,” she breathes, arching her back and thrusting against him. “Astarion…”

Her hand is working between her legs, and he can feel the tension building again in her body. He’s already made her come on his tongue–he tries to not think about how delicious she tastes when she loses control against his mouth–and it’s clear she wants to come on his cock, too. 

And gods, but he wants to come with her, to come inside her, to fill her up while she shudders around him. This isn’t part of his plan, but to the hells with the plan. He’s so wrapped up in her body, in her, in her pleasure and his own, that he forgets himself. 

Brushing her hand aside, he strokes her clit firmly, driving into her sweet cunt. “Fuck,” she gasps, pressing her back against his chest. “Yes…”

“I want to come inside you,” he groans against her ear, his hips snapping against her ass, one hand working her closer to her peak while his other arm snakes around her torso, grasping her breast. 

She makes a soft sound, a little “oh” of surprise. Her cunt starts to flutter around him, and gods, he’s so close, too. “Please, Tav,” he moans, grinding her body between his cock and his fingertips. “Please let me come inside you, please, please–“

“Yes,” she gasps, her hands clutching at his forearms.

She cries out as pleasure overwhelms her, shuddering in his arms, and he follows her into oblivion, his own body wracked with ecstasy the likes of which he hasn’t felt in centuries. His cock jerks, spilling his seed as deep inside of her as he can possibly go. Her cunt squeezes him, milking him, their bodies spasming together until every last drop of pleasure is wrung from them. 

They stay like that for a long moment, clutching and grasping at each other, until her legs start to shake with strain. She lets out a throaty little laugh as he pulls out, bracing herself against the rock as she catches her breath. “Fuck, Astarion,” she says breathlessly, giving him a sly grin over her shoulder. “That was incredible.”

He can see his cum starting to slide down the inside of her thighs, and it sends a jolt of desire through his already-sated body. And a strange feeling, too, one that’s unfamiliar but nearly overwhelming. Possessiveness?

He’s startled by the intensity of it, the way seeing his seed between her legs makes him want to yank her into his arms and never let her go, to take her over and over and listen to her cry out his name.

"You know," she says, turning to him, sweat gleaming on her naked body, "I like it when you say please."

"Oh gods," he groans with a roll of his eyes, embarrassed, but he can't turn away because she's sliding her hands up his chest, pressing her lips to his.

He sighs into her kiss, soaking in the warmth of her body as she insinuates herself into his arms. "You beg very nicely," she murmurs, a smirk curling her lips.

"If you ever tell anyone about that, I will knife you in your sleep," he murmurs back, taking two handfuls of her ass and pulling her against his swiftly reawakening erection, drowning in her kiss and her body and her teasing affection.

This is dangerous; he knows it, but somehow the sound of her laughter and the feel of her body are so good that he just doesn't care.

[eiluned]

Several Sentence Sunday

Thanks to @baar-ur for the tag!

This is from the sequel to Phantom Touch, and this is way more than several sentences, but sexy flustered Lucanis is too cute to cut short.

"I've been thinking," she said in between kisses, "about what happened with Spite." He hummed again, sliding his tongue into her mouth and his hands around her hips to pull her more firmly against his groin. "He... mmm," she tried to say, but he tried to drag her mouth back against his, chasing her lips as she leaned back. "He kissed you, didn't he? The other night." A blush rose in Lucanis's cheeks, which was perhaps the most adorable thing she'd ever seen. "Yes," he said, busying himself with unbuttoning her shirt so he wouldn't have to meet her eyes. With a smirk, Rook tipped his chin up and gave him a slow kiss. "Has he ever done that before?" she asked, wiggling a little to help him untuck her shirt. His fingers fumbled on the last button. It took three tries before he could undo it, and he cleared his throat as he slid the shirt down her arms, tossing it aside. "No," he replied. Whether it was the topic of kissing his own personal demon or the fact that she wasn't wearing anything under her shirt, something had reduced him to monosyllabic answers. Rook made quick work of Lucanis's shirt buttons. "Did you like it?" she teased with a sly grin, leaning in to press her breasts against his bare chest. His breath left him in a huff, his hands squeezing her ass hard. "Mierda, yes," he groaned, pressing his face against the curve of her jaw.

Tagging: @chezamanda @vakariansyndrome and anyone else who wants to share!

[eiluned]

A Bird in the Hand [BG3; explicit Tav/Astarion/Halsin]

Read it at AO3

Summary: Tavriel has a rather interesting proposal for her lovers. (It's just smut, y'all.)

Pairing: Tav/Astarion/Halsin

Pertinent tags: PWP, DVP let's goooooo

Notes: Set in act 3, post-Cazador, after Tavriel, Astarion, and Halsin have started having threesomes. Fits into my bigger Tav playthrough series, but I'm allergic to writing things in chronological order. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (This uses the same title as a Clintasha fic that I wrote years ago, just in case you've read my old stuff and were like 'wait'. I can't resist a terrible smutty pun.)

Art by the absolutely amazing Dova/CapriFawn. The full version can be found on their twitter! (You have to be logged in to see it, because it is very spicy.)

Comments make my heart grow three sizes. 🥹

[eiluned]

Hi! 8 or 16 for the Rook story time prompts, if you want !

Ooh! I'm going to do 8 this time, but I'll circle back around to 16, because it's a scene I've been meaning to write anyway. Thank you for the prompts!

8. A time Rook argued with someone they care about.

This is part of the rookanis novel I'm apparently writing, featuring my Crow Rook, Wren de Riva, who has history with Lucanis. This scene is set after Bloodbath.

---

“I’m fine. I can handle this on my own,” he said, clearly stonewalling her; he crossed his arms over his chest and turned slightly away.

It was defensive and a little dismissive, and that part made Wren so frustrated that she could scream. It was always a pull and a push with him, reeling her in with little smiles and genuine interest, like he was still the man she knew before the Ossuary. But the second she got too close, he pushed her away, closed himself off, retreated into the brooding, broken abomination he had become, and it hurt to get jerked around like that. 

“Maker’s balls, you’re so damn stubborn,” she growled, hands balling into fists at her sides. “You don’t have to do it by yourself! You’re not a fucking island, Lucanis. I want to help—”

“Stop pushing, Wren!” he snapped, glaring at her. “I don’t need your help!”

That hit like a dagger to the chest. She hadn’t wanted to put pressure on him, at least when it came to sorting out the complicated tangle of what they were to each other. But she wasn’t just pushing her help on him, was she? She wanted to go back to what they were a year ago, before he was tortured and she lost her home and family and the whole fucking world fell apart. It was selfish of her because he clearly didn’t feel the same way. Maybe those feelings were buried deep underneath all the pain in him, but he didn’t want to deal with them, and she had been pushing him. 

To her horror, tears stung her eyes. She pressed her lips together for a second, trying to tamp down the shame and pain and fear roiling inside her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, because her voice wouldn’t go any louder than that. “I’ll go.”

Turning on her heel, she reached for the door handle, but to her surprise, he caught her hand in his. “Rook, wait—” he began, but hearing him use that name instead of her own just twisted the knife.

“I’ll let the matter drop,” she said stiffly, shaking out of his grasp and mourning the loss of his touch. “Now please, just... let me go lick my wounds in private.”

His eyes flashed violet for a split second, but she didn’t stay to see if Spite would take over. She left the pantry, resolutely staring forward, willing herself to keep it together until she was in the sanctuary of her room.

[eiluned]

Just a lil sneak peek at something I’m desperately trying to write. Please feel free to read and encourage me to get this son of a bitch story in shape to start posting 🥰

“My grandsons,” the First Talon said, waving her hand at the two young men. “Lucanis and Illario.”

They greeted her politely and exchanged greetings with Viago, whom they both seemed to know. She knew they were cousins, but the two looked enough alike that she would have thought they were brothers. The taller one with the slightly softer, more classically handsome face was Illario. His greeting to her held a distinctly flirty undertone that was betrayed by his eyes immediately wandering away to where the rest of her fellow former-fledglings were clustered.

The shorter one, Lucanis, had sharper, more striking features but was more handsome than his cousin, in her opinion. His eyes were coffee-brown eyes instead of his cousin’s hazel, and while he was just as polished as Illario, he didn’t have the same sort of artifice. He was at ease in his own skin, where Illario was putting on a show.

Lucanis’s dark gaze lingered on Wren’s face for a long moment, eyes flicking down to her mouth, and she felt a flush of warmth deep in her body.

[eiluned]

"A kiss that seals a promise", please?

I hope you like it! You can also read it on AO3.

"If I have to kill every blighted creature in Thedas to keep you safe, I will."

The air in the pantry was thick with anxiety. Even though the bloody light of the unnatural eclipse couldn't penetrate the room, Wren still felt it like it was burned into her skin. Lucanis was as tense as she'd ever seen him, his mouth set in a grim line, his shoulders tight, curling into himself. Isolating himself, even as she stood right there with him.

"You don't have to do everything alone," she said.

"I'm never alone anymore."

It came out bitter, a bitterness that she'd thought, or rather hoped, that he had moved past. "You know what I mean," she chided gently. "I'll be here for you."

"Don't make promises you might not keep."

Rook sighed, pushed a hand back into her hair. She knew he was worried, afraid. So was she, truth be told, but she was the leader, wasn't she? She had to keep it together, had to inspire the others, even if she knew Lucanis would see right through it.

"Lucanis, I–"

"Don't."

She knew why he stopped her. Crows were a superstitious bunch, as she knew well from experience. It was bad luck to spill your guts before a fight, to lay everything out. Save it for after the fight is finished. She internally cursed every Crow who had perpetuated that superstition; they were all keeping her from telling him that she loved him before they faced the gods themselves.

"Whatever it takes," he continued, nodding sharply. "I won't miss this time. I'll meet you at the eluvian."

He started to walk by her, but she caught his hand in hers, leaned in to press a kiss against his lips before he could stop her. She felt his breath catch in surprise, and she expected him to pull away, like a kiss was just another harbinger of bad luck. But he pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her, kissed her deeply like he was telling her all of the things he was too afraid to say out loud.

Slowly, reluctantly, Wren pulled away, brushing one last kiss against the corner of his mouth. "I always keep my promises," she murmured with a faint smile.

Lucanis pressed his lips together, his eyes scanning her face like he was committing it to memory, and nodded.

–

They stood shoulder to shoulder at the apex of the arched bridge, both leaning on the railing, gazing out at the stars reflected in Treviso's waters.

"I can't believe it's over," Wren said, leaning into Lucanis, watching a gondola glide silently over the dark canal. "It feels like I should be running after the next problem."

He chuckled, bumping her shoulder with his. "Don't worry," he replied. "We have a whole new set of problems to deal with."

In that moment, those troubles seemed far away. They could deal with the Crows tomorrow. Right then, she just wanted to be, to exist in their city, standing beside him, feeling his solid presence. "Of course," she said lightly. "But I'll be here with you."

Sliding his hand along her cheek, he turned her to face him, wrapping her up in his arms. "I know you will," he murmured, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "And I'm yours for as long as you want me. No gods or kings or Crows can keep me from you."

Their lips met in a promise she knew she would never break.

[eiluned]

Fell From Your Heart

by eiluned

Read at AO3

Summary: If he were forced to confess, maybe under pain of torture or something like that, Astarion would admit that he was a little jealous.

Tavriel smiled at him, sank into his embrace and looked at him through her dark lashes, wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him so sweetly.

But she also kissed the druid, and smiled at him, and looked at the man like he’d captured her heart.

All right, Astarion was more than a little jealous. He was very jealous.

[eiluned]

Just a quick update on what fanfic nonsense I am up to.

I decided to write a fic for my Rook (Wren de Riva)’s backstory and modified game scenes to fit in with her backstory. I am NOWHERE near finished with this story.

It is currently 8500+ words.

And I haven’t even really started writing the scenes from the game yet.

So… that’s going to take a while and be an absolute monstrosity by the time I finish it. I’m trying to decide if I want to post it as a WIP or wait until it’s done.

And I also have like… five smutty one shot fics in progress, all Rook and Lucanis (and Spite). And I want to write one for Teia and Viago. And I have the vaguest idea about a Davrin/Lucanis/Rook spit roast lmao.

Can someone pay me to just write fic all day? Because who has time to work and write all this smut.

[eiluned]

Lucky [Clintasha microfic]

by Eiluned

Rating: gen

For @auntie-lucifer‘s prompt

--

“What’s this?”

“This is a puppy.”

Natasha felt her face do that thing, the thing where her forehead froze and her nose wrinkled a little and her lips pursed. The thing her face did when Clint said stuff like, “This is a puppy,” when she clearly meant, “Why is there a puppy in our house?”

“I see that.”

Clint clearly scented danger, because he hefted the lanky little golden retriever up into his arms and deposited it right into Natasha’s. “I thought we could call him Lucky,” he said, wearing his most disarming grin.

“Clint…” she started, but the puppy licked her right in the face, making her sputter and laugh. “Clint, I thought we were going to talk about it before we got a dog.”

Shoving his hand back through his hair, he grinned sheepishly. “I know, I know,” he said. “But someone dumped this little guy on the street in Brooklyn. I asked around, but no one claimed him, so I brought him home and gave him a bath and took him to the vet yesterday. He’s healthy, other than being a little skinny and missing that eye. And he’s the sweetest boy ever.”

Natasha shifted the dog around so she could look him in the eye.

“Lucky, huh.”

[eiluned]

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex, Teasing, Fingerfucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill

Summary: Kissing on the battlements was one thing. His hand in her smalls while standing five feet away from Orlesian dignitaries who were probably wondering where the inquisitor had made off to was entirely another.

Notes: Written for the prompt: "Quizzy likes to seduce reserved/controlled Cullen into losing his cool and banging her in public-ish places." Huge thanks to Amanda and Trina for the beta reading and help!

[eiluned]

Fic: Worship [Cullen/Trevelyan]

Worship by Eiluned

Rating: Explicit Tags: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, Teasing, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Come Shot, Vaginal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Pre-Trespasser DLC, Champion Pussy Eater Cullen Rutherford, Body Worship, One Shot, Female Ejaculation Summary: Isolde Trevelyan's been away from Skyhold for a month. What better way to celebrate her return than a little body worship from her commander? Notes: This is a trimmed down version of this previously posted fic. For @greyallison's writing contest. 1996 words. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

"I've been dreaming about this for weeks," he said, fingers skimming over her knees and in to trace deliberate lines up her thighs where they lay to either side of his knees. "May I?"

"Well, since you're so polite," Isolde replied.

Her breath caught when he wrapped his hands around her legs and pushed them up and apart, spreading her open. "My lady deserves nothing less," Cullen murmured, bending forward to kiss her lips.

He didn't have his weight on her, just his hands holding her legs down and his thighs pressed against her ass as he leaned over her, but even that bit of contact was enough to set her on fire. Maker, but she had missed him, and she couldn't help whimpering against his mouth as he kissed her.

With her legs pinned against her body, she couldn't move enough to rub against him, and he chuckled at the feel of her straining against him. "Eager?" he rumbled, nipping at her bottom lip.

"I've been dreaming about this for weeks," she echoed back to him, and his smile made her stomach flutter.

His tongue swiped across her lip, but before she could catch his mouth in another kiss, he dropped his mouth to the curve of her neck, trailing heated kisses against the sensitive skin there.

Her breath stuttered when he caught her nipple between his teeth, worrying at it gently before sucking just hard enough to make her back arch. It was torture, to be so overwhelmed by sensation but unable to actually do anything about it. His cock was hard and heavy against her thigh, but that wasn't anywhere near close enough to wear she wanted it.

She whined when he released her nipple, rubbing his stubbled cheeks in the valley between her breasts. "Patience, love," he said with a little smile.

"I don't want to be patient," she complained, feeling his breath of laughter brush over her skin. "I want you now."

"Patience," he repeated, and Maker, she loved it when his voice dropped like that. "I'm going to worship your body, do things to you that you've only ever dreamed about. And when I'm satisfied that you've come hard enough, then you can have me."

Isolde's head hit the pillow, a desperate sound escaping her. "You're torturing me," she moaned, squirming as he dragged his tongue down the middle of her belly, dipping it briefly into her navel before continuing southward.

"And you'll enjoy every second of it," he replied, sighing as she carded her fingers through his hair, mussing up the carefully controlled curls.

She gasped when he set his teeth lightly into the back of her thigh. He licked at the little pain, soothing it with his tongue and ignoring her efforts to tug his hair to get his mouth where she wanted it.

Before Cullen, she'd never met another man who enjoyed eating cunt so much. Her past male lovers had always done it, of course (or else she wouldn't have reciprocated), but none of them with as much enthusiasm as the few women she'd been with.

Cullen, on the other hand, was better at it than even the best woman she'd known. He was intuitive and eager, learning from her reactions and experimenting with new ways to make her come. He absolutely loved it, too, loved to get his mouth on her and take her apart piece by piece, moaning the whole time like he'd never tasted anything better than her. He could go at it for ages, tirelessly tonguefucking her until she nearly lost her mind.

But as much as he loved eating her cunt, he also loved to tease her, to draw it out until she begged. He licked up the back of one thigh and kissed his way down the other, dragged his tongue ever so slowly along the crease where each leg met her body, brushed his nose against the soft curls on her mound and breathed in the scent of her arousal.

"Cullen," she whispered, tangling her fingers in his hair.

His breath was hot against her, lips so close to where she wanted them, and yet he still held back. She was already soaking wet, her clit throbbing with need, and she twisted under his grip, desperate for some kind of touch.

"Stay still," he scolded with a dangerous smirk, the curl of his lips tugging at his scar. "Hold your legs for me, love."

With a moan, she released his curls and obediently wrapped her hands around the backs of her legs, holding herself open for him.

"Good girl," he murmured, shifting onto his stomach.

The pillows propped her up enough so that she could see the long, muscular line of his body framed perfectly between her thighs, and she bit her lip at the sight of his hips rolling against the mattress, so aroused that he couldn't help himself.

Now that his hands were free, he could put them to better use, and he immediately did, using his thumbs to gently spread her open, baring her to his gaze. "So wet already?" he teased, his voice a low rumble.

"Cullen, you're killing me," she moaned, tossing her head back against the pillows.

He chose that exact moment, right when she'd stopped paying such close attention to what he was doing, to lick a hot path from the mouth of her cunt all the way up to her clit. Isolde shrieked in surprise, her hand coming up to stifle the sound.

Cullen groaned in response, thrusting his tongue deep into her cunt for a second before moving up to bear down on her clit. She was so aroused that the little bud of nerves felt swollen to twice its usual size, and though she'd thought he would drag this out, it quickly became clear that he was determined to make her come as quickly as possible.

Keeping his tongue firm, he flicked her clit, twitching the bud back and forth. She'd meant to hold onto her legs, really, but the sensations were too much; her thighs slipped from her grip, feet falling to the mattress on either side of his shoulders, and her hips rose greedily from the bed to meet his mouth.

It had been weeks since she'd had a good orgasm. Camping out on the road wasn't exactly the most conducive environment for masturbation, and she'd only been able to sneak a few quick, shivering climaxes when she could get a moment alone in her tent. Obviously being deprived had primed her body for the best orgasm of her life.

Cullen pushed two fingers into her cunt, curling them upward to stroke at the spot only he could reach. Between the jolting sensation of his fingertips pressing into her sweet spot and the relentless pressure of his tongue on her clit, Isolde was suddenly swept up into a blindingly intense orgasm. She swore so loudly it echoed off the rafters, her hands fisting in the bedcovers, her whole body shaking under his assault.

He kept at it even as she shuddered and bucked up against his mouth, licking and thrusting, prolonging the pleasure until she was sure she would fly apart. She cried out at a particularly powerful wave of pleasure, writhing and shivering, her inner thighs suddenly very wet.

When she collapsed back onto the bed, he lifted his head to grin at her, his chin and neck slick from her orgasm. "I hope you have an extra blanket," he teased, dragging his palm over her mound.

She wasn't quite ready for another round, but Cullen was already licking her clean, delving his tongue into her cunt, his thumb coaxing her body back to the edge of orgasm. She shuddered as he worked his tongue inside the mouth of her cunt.

His moan in reply seemed to vibrate right to the core of her, sending a bolt of arousal straight to her clit. He stroked the tight bud under the pad of his thumb, trying to get his tongue as deep into her as he could.

Chanting his name, she canted her hips, pressing herself firmly against his mouth, and when he moaned again, all the pleasure coiling up at the base of her spine suddenly sprang loose.

She clenched down on his thrusting tongue, her back arching and her legs shaking as she cried out. He wrapped both hands around the tops of her thighs, holding her still so she could ride out the orgasm with his tongue still buried in her.

"Maker's breath," she whimpered, trying valiantly to unclench her hands from around fistfuls of blanket.

Humming his agreement, Cullen tugged his tongue free and slowly licked up either side of her cunt. "I love the way you taste," he rumbled, and despite being well on her way to bonelessness, Isolde felt heat stir deep in her body again.

"Oh Maker, Cullen, please," she whimpered, writhing as he sucked at her clit. "Please, Cullen, I need you, please, I need you inside me, please…"

His groan may have been the sexiest thing she had ever heard, and through the haze of pleasure she watched as he rutted against the blanket. "Cullen, please!" she begged, letting out a sob when he shook his head gently, her clit still between his lips.

He took her right to the edge, teasing her clit until her legs were shaking before backing off just enough to leave her swearing and drumming her heels against the mattress. And then he did it again and again, building up her pleasure nearly to its crescendo but stopping just before she could come.

Isolde cursed him and praised him and begged him for mercy, begged him to take her. He was so good, so amazingly good, like he could read her mind and know exactly how far to push her before she fell apart. He kept her on that edge, perfectly balanced on the precipice, until her body felt like it would burst into flames.

With a sudden, ragged gasp, Cullen surged up onto his knees, one hand wrapped around his cock and the other pulling at her hip, trying to lift her up enough so he could mount her. "Fuck!" he growled, a hard shudder wracking his body.

His first spurts of seed striped over her belly, and then he managed to line himself up properly. She was so aroused that he slid right in despite his size, and his cock jerked and twitched deep in her cunt as he spilled into her. He swore and moaned her name, his big body dropping down onto hers, as if he couldn't stand not touching as much of her as possible.

He spent himself into her shuddering body, his hips thrusting jerkily at the force of his own climax, and Maker, she loved how it felt when he lost control inside of her.

She'd already been on the edge of coming. All she needed was a little nudge to go right off that cliff, and the feel of his thick cock inside of her was exactly the right kind of nudge. She bucked against him, her hands clutching at his back, her face buried in the curve of his neck as she sobbed his name.

Breathing hard, he sank his hands into her hair and kissed her as they slowly came back down. She thought she missed this the most during those long nights on the road: his weight atop her, his arms around her, his lips pressed against hers.

"I'm glad you're back," he said softly.

She opened her eyes to find him smiling down at her, his face blissfully relaxed, and she loved seeing him like that. "I can tell," she teased. "You're so glad I'm back that I'll need another bath."

"And a change of bedclothes."

"That's your fault, too."

"I'll gladly take the blame," he murmured, taking her mouth in another kiss.

[eiluned]

15, Cullen x Inquisitor

prompt: trembling hands, Cullen/Inquisitor

Sometimes she sees a fine tremor in his hands, when he points to the map or reaches for his drink. She wouldn’t have even noticed if she didn’t watch him so closely, but she sees it and sees how he quickly reaches for his sword hilt, tucks his hand under the table, does something so no one will see that little sign of weakness.

His hands do not tremble when he touches her, not at first, anyway. They are strong and confident, all signs of lyrium pain vanished in the pleasure they find in each other. He holds her close with his steady hands, sinking them into her hair, trailing fiery touches over her skin. They tremble only when he comes undone in her body, but it’s a different kind of tremor, a good sort of weakness, one that he only shares with her.

(prompt me)