#whiskeyskin

[whiskeyskin]

Wild and Wanting

Premise: Halsin always puts others first, it's about time he feels like number one 😜🍑🫵

• Halsin x gn! reader • 18+ • Act 3

Reader POV, light Reader!Dom, submissive!Halsin, 69, oral both recieving, instructions, analingus, tossing the salad, eating cake, tonguing the chocolate starfish, you get the hint, he gets his ass ate right, it's about damn time.

3.8k words

Not my gif, but you're welcome for sharing Happy munching! 😏🍑🥴

_____________________________

Halsin's mouth and tongue expertly lavish your sex; sucking, licking and nibbling. It drives you beyond distraction.

You're trying to concentrate on pleasing him, using your own talents on his thick, lengthy cock. You suckle at his tip, twisting your wrist on his shaft, your other hand massaging his testicles.

He lays beneath you feasting open-mouthed and greedy. He laves his tongue up and down the length of you, knowing exactly how to use his large hands to bring you to ruin already.

You drool down on his cock in absent-minded delirium, gasping and panting.

He takes a breath and kisses the inside of your thighs, still using his glorious hand on you, then flicks his tongue against your taint. Your whole body twitches and you whine out a garbled moan.

"Mm, cum for me, my heart. I need your spent down my throat." He growls, returning to his ministrations, his intent tenfold.

With a soft, sucking pop his length falls from your mouth, as you moan wantonly.

He strokes in perfect pace, mouth working in spectacular rhythm. The pressure inside your head ready to burst, the coil tightening in your gut ready to spring.

Your whole body tenses, every nerve-ending on fire. Your moans of pleasure getting increasingly louder and breathless. Halsin ushers you towards the precipice and you tumble willingly into it's nothingness.

All thoughts leave your head, as your orgasm washes over you, radiating from your core; from Halsin's mouth.

He hungrily revels in the banquet of your release, drinking you down, never ceasing.

Your hips stutter and jerk against his mouth, as ragged breaths heave from your lungs. Sweat beading from your forehead and forming on your top lip.

He swallows every drop of you, with a few long swirls of his gifted tongue.

You collapse on top of him, leaning against the muscle of his thick thigh, your hot breath tickling his sac.

He pats you twice on the ass and chuckles deep from his chest, "Ahh, my heart. You came so hard for me, thank you." You hear the smile in his praise and thanks.

"That wasn't fair." You protest, rolling unceremoniously to land in a heap on the blankets below you.

He chuckles, sitting up, "Whatever do you mean?"

Eyes still unable to focus, you struggle to look up at him, bathed in the moonlight above you. The sounds of the forest returning to your ears instead of the sloppy, slurping noises of oral sex.

"You always make me cum first." You point out, still slightly winded.

His eyebrows shoot up his forehead, "And this is a bad thing?" He asks grinning, wiping a hand across his smeared chin. You purse your lips and irk a brow at him.

"Well, I can't complain when I'm in the moment.. but yes. Don't you want to be just a little bit selfish, sometimes?" You inquire, shrugging.

"Nope." He answers, definitively, clasping his hands together and bending a leg at the knee. He was still hard.

You run your tongue against your teeth, smirking in the face of his goading.

"In 350 years, you've never once just wanted to fuck for your pleasure alone?" You narrow your eyes playfully at him.

"I find pleasure in pleasing others. I cannot help how I am, nor do I intend to change." He states, curling himself around to be closer to you, "Does it bother you, love?"

"Not really. It's just.." you pause, measuring what you actually mean, "you've taken care of people for so long, always put them first and yourself second, or even third. Maybe for once, I want you to be put first." You implore, eyes insisting.

"I have no issues coming in second place, my heart." He says with a devilish moan, capturing your mouth in a consuming kiss.

He tries to move on top of you but you halt him, and push him back onto the grass.

"I wasn't finished," you smirk, a forceful hand pushing on his hairy, muscle-bound chest, "I couldn't even get a good rhythm going!" You exclaim with a faux pout, as you hook your leg over to straddle his impressive form.

He chuckles in reply, "I can't apologise for something I'm not ashamed of." He glides his calloused hands up the backs of your thighs and around the curve of your behind.

You smile back, "Well, I'm not one to leave a mission unfinished, so.." you press a kiss to his sternum, "just lie back and look at the stars, you'll be there soon." You promise with a salacious grin.

Halsin irks a brow and licks his bottom lip, "I have no doubt, my heart."

"I mean it," you sit up straighter, using his enormous pecks for leverage, "This is for you to lie back and indulge a little. A promise to take pleasure for yourself. Are you listening?" You insist, a slight jutt of your chin.

Another chuckle responds, a warm crinkle around his green hazel eyes, "Yes, heart. I'm listening, I promise."

"I'll hold you to your word, Halsin Silverbough." You purr, leaning down to kiss him again. A long, languid kiss of wet tongues and gasping moans. You taste yourself on his tongue and swear you can almost taste the warmth of honey on his lips.

Taking your time, you drag your mouth and tongue down his impossibly beautiful body, as he cranes his neck to watch you descend.

"You truly are the most beautiful man I've ever seen." You decide to tell him, keeping searing eye contact, trailing your wet tongue down the ridged plain of his torso.

You had beheld perfection in humanoid form before, but Halsin truly outclassed them all. His massive chest, muscular arms, thick thighs and tight butt; they could make a sinner convert to a life of piety.

He loves to deal out sweet, cherishing praise; you want him to experience the same.

"I doubt that but I appreciate your encouragement." He bats away your compliment with a shy shake of his head, as you shower his belly in long, languid kisses.

"I'm serious. You are sincerely spectacular. Your body, your face, your mind. The entirety of you is beyond anything I've ever witnessed."

His cock flexes against his lower belly, a line of precum beading between. You take the head in your hand and start to stroke him slowly.

"Th-thank you, my heart." He stutters, with a smile, his hands running the length of your arms.

"Your kindness, selflessness. Your wisdom and bravery. And these pretty little divets that lead so sweetly down." You croon, between kisses and suckles.

You lap your tongue along the bottom of his tip, wrapping your lips to encompass the girth of his long, thick erection. Halsin groans and pushes his hips up, rolling his head back with a throaty gasp.

Rolling your wrist over the head, using your mouth in tandem, you taste his desire for you. You release him with a satisfying pop, staring up at him over his heaving and hollowing chest.

"Gods, you taste so good." The salt of his skin is intoxicating, as you move to glide your mouth to the creases of his inner thighs.

"Mm, thank you, my heart. You feel extraordinary." He keens through a strained throat.

You flatten your tongue along the curve of his balls, first one side, then the other. Then gently sucking one at a time into your mouth, massaging them with your tongue.

Halsin groans as he bends his knees and opens his legs to allow better access.

"I'm going to take such good care of you, Halsin." Your hot breath teases his sensitive skin.

Laying on the layered blankets on the forest clearing floor; you lap at his testicles, suckling at them, flicking your tongue front to back. Every now and again, surfacing to slather his cock head with your eager tongue, your hand continuing a constant, teasing pace.

Halsin moans between tense lips, as he raises his hips, desperate for more friction.

A thought flashes across your mind, something you're pretty sure that he would be interested in trying with you.

"Love? Tell me if you want me to stop." You offer, before dipping your tongue underneath his sac, to push against his taint. Inviting, but not threatening, to go lower.

Halsin groans in agreement, "Mm, never.. never. Keep going. Yes." Pushing off his feet to grant a better angle.

You bite back a devious smirk, and tilt your head to suckle his perineum. Rearranging your non-dominant hand, you grasp at the meat of his buttcheeks.

Halsin makes a straining, encouraging noise from the back of his throat. Bolstered, you dip your tongue lower, between the tight crease of his cheeks. You press your tongue between the folds, flicking it firmly.

"Oh, Silvanus protect me." He sighs out quickly.

The precum on his head is gathering thick and fast, as you continue to stroke his huge cock.

"Is this something that you like, sweet thing?" You ask from between his tense thighs.

"It is, my heart. I don-don't like to ask," he falters as you dip your tongue once more, "Not everyone partakes in such activities."

"Well, aren't you a lucky boy?" You smirk with a playful tone, rolling your tongue the word.

"Every day since I met you." He chuckles, then hisses through his teeth, at the intensity of his lust.

"What do you want, love? Mouth, and fingers inside?" You check before proceeding.

"Yes.. yes.." he whispers breathlessly, fists grasping at the blankets beneath him.

"Say it. Own your needs." You order, your fingers lazily flicking the crease of his cheeks.

"T-Tongue. Tongue and fingers. Your mouth. Your hands.. please." He grumbles deeply, asking so nicely.

"Then I need you on all fours, sweet thing. I want to devour you." You purr his words back to him, teeth against his thigh. His eyes burn bright with excitement and desire, you bite your bottom lip with a scandalous grin. He responds with an equally devious smirk and huffing himself over with a ravenous growl, he obliges faithfully.

Apparently, the Elvish predilection of hairlessness extended to his asshole, if nowhere else.

You kneel backwards to reach towards the small picnic you'd brought yourselves, and retrieved his jar of lubricant. He hurriedly gathers the blanket toward him, to lean into the grass instead. Watching him get into position; he buries his face into his forearms and parts his legs, tilting his ass into the air.

You drink in the sight before you; the Ex-Archdruid of the Emerald Grove, splayed on all fours in front of you.

"Halsin." A wide, feral grin spreads across your face, "you look so damned good like this, arse in the air for me." You curl your lip through the words, catching them through a feral snarl. Halsin hums low appreciatively at your filthy words.

"Can I spank you, love?" You clarify, praying for him to agree.

"Not hard but yes." He answers from the grass.

You rub a cheek several times, then give a nice, satisfying slap and repeat twice more. Each time he twitches at the contact, groaning out; you moan with him, each time a little more exaggerated.

Reaching between his legs for his large, hanging erection, you find the tip already wet with precum. Halsin's body jerks and he lets out another long, hot moan into the ground.

You try to resist delving in deep already, only having enough strength to veer to the other ample cheek at the last second.

"Do you like baring yourself to me in this way, love? I can't wait to sink myself into your waiting hole." You keen, running your hands up the backs of his thigh, dangerously close to the valley of his yearning arsehole.

"Heart." Halsin growls a warning loudly and rounds his spine, shuddering. His body starts to glow and you back off before his nature takes over.

"It's alright, Halsin. Breathe, love." You instruct him gently, "breathe.."

He does as instructed, with apparent great difficulty. But despite his best efforts, he shifts to his bear form, leaves erupting outwards from impacting magic. Now looking at the behind of an enormous brown bear, you stifle a flattered, if not a little guilty, giggle.

"It's alright, love. I should've known. I'm sorry." You soothe, smoothing his rugged fur and moving to stand.

You walk to the side of him, running a hand softly and comfortingly along his flank. His big, sad eyes turn to look at you. He rumbles out a sad low grumble, and your chest inverts.

"Ohh, my beloved. It's alright. It can't be helped. You know I take it as a compliment." You shrug and smile warmly, stroking the softer fur of his face and shucking behind his ear.

He hoots with a toothy smile and shudders back to his original form.

"I'm sorry.. I'm sorry. It's why I don't.. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." he repeats over and over again, pushing off his hands.

"Hey. You don't apologise for something you're not ashamed of." You remind him, catching his face gently. He rewards you with a chuckle.

"My mistake." He jokingly chides himself, pushing breath through tight lips.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" You venture once more, kneeling back to join him at his original size, smoothing along the soft curve of his back, drawing soothing circles on his shoulder blade.

"I know it isn't your usual position - even though you look so exquisitely good in it." You add, pressing a kiss to his bicep.

"I made a promise. A promise to indulge my own pleasures," he states with conviction, "something I have not done for a very long time, and there is no one I trust more than you, in which to do so." He swallows, his soft earthen eyes boring into yours.

You tilt you head to the side and regard this creature of undiluted perfection before you, unable to quell the smile on your face, "I adore you," You reach up to kiss him, slow and soft, "Thank you for trusting me."

"Thank you, my heart. You have given an old Druid more happiness these last weeks than I've had in a long time." He curls his lips in, a melancholic yet wistful expression on his face.

"You are heavenly, you know that?" You inform him, pushing up to stand. You kiss him again, cupping his scarred and tattooed face, nudging his forehead with yours.

Walking to return to your spot, he surrenders himself back between his massive forearms. You reach toward the jar of lubricant and unscrew the lid, the gentle scent of chamomile in the air.

Kneeling back down, you prepare a healthy dose of lube on your first two fingers. Gently, you begin to stroke the cleft of his arse, slowly drawing wide circles around his arsehole.

He grinds his jaw together and his eyes flutter closed. He trembles a breath through his nose, stretching his neck from side to side.

"Say, 'Emerald' if you need to stop." You establish, softly applying more pressure with the two digits in smaller circles against his rim, "What do you say to stop?"

"Emerald." He responds dutifully, bowing his head and scrunching his face.

"Good lad." You reward him, with a surprising tap on his ass cheek. He rumbles a chuckle.

Settling yourself comfortably, you announce, "I'm going to eat your ass now." just before launching into the valley of Halsin's awaiting hole.

Forming plenty of salvia, you dive in to assault him with your tongue. Using your hands to spread his cheeks wider, you begin by licking the length from his taint up, then flicking your tongue against his entrance.

Halsin hollers out below you in abject agreement, "Yes, my heart. Yes. Thank you. Ahh !"

You take no time in burying your face between his ass cheeks; slurping and licking, while fondling his balls. Bracing yourself against the strength of his legs, you tongue over the sweet, sensitive rim.

The taste of his home remedy lube was helpfully very pleasant, as you feast on his exposed ass. You moan and vocalise, as you dine on his most intimate and hidden part. Poking your tongue just passed his tight entrance, fluttering it around the rim and massaging your hands across the meat of his ample behind.

Shaking and nodding your head, prodding your tongue further inside his taut hole and licking all around. You move back and spit against his clenched skin, lube-thickened rivulets of saliva coat his sac and drip onto the floor, as you slap his ass another twice.

He exclaims, nearly falling from his forearms.

"Gods, my sweet. Yes-yes. I feel your spit dripping down me. You feel incredible. Do not stop. Please." He begs, his voice already hoarse.

You make a noise in your throat that informs him, you aren't even started.

Settling lower in your position, you take your bracing hand and pause to daub your peace fingers with plentiful more lube and smear it where his muscled back curves to meet his succulent ass. Then take that hand to gently pull down on his testicles, squeezing them within your palm, massaging the weight of them.

Continuing your ministrations with your tongue, you collect the awaiting lube, adding the sensation of your fingers of your dominant hand slowly. Gently cycling your fingers around the curve of his coccyx, you palpate his soaked, engorged asshole.

His entrance flutters against your tongue, as his moans get increasingly more gruff and desperate.

"More. My heart. More. Inside. Please." He strains, breaths hissing through his bared teeth.

Moving your mouth to kiss the crease to his leg, you stroke your fingers down to align with his prepared entrance. Teasing slowly, you test him with your middle finger, dipping in and out and watching for his reaction.

A muffled high cry expells from him, as he twitches, "Ahh!"

"Breathe out for me, beloved." You coach, pausing your hand cupping his balls.

He obliges, taking in a deep inhale and slowly exhaling. Your middle finger slides in with a small amount of resistance.

Halsin gasps, and his head shoots up from between his arms, "Oh! Silvanus bless me. More. More." he pleads, growling.

Taking your other hand from his testicles, you add more lube for comfort, then add the second finger. Both slide in with pliant ease; Halsin's lubricated warmth surrounding your digits to the second knuckle.

Halsin makes a crackling gasp, "Gods !"

"You're doing so well, love." You adorn him, delicately sliding your fingers in to the hilt.

You reach between his legs to tease his shaft with light, squeezing touches.

Halsin whines out a shudder, "Mm-argh. I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you. Please. Let me. I'll-ngh." He rambles, slamming a fist to the ground.

"This isn't about me, this is for you. Or trust me, I'd be riding you already." You moan, he joins in with a wanting groan.

"Seeing you like this as I fuck your ass with my fingers. It's so fucking hot, Halsin." You start to thrust your fingers inside his asshole, curling down to hit his special spot.

He trembles out a call to the sky in Elvish, seemingly unable to speak Common.

"I'm going to take care of you, protect you, adore you and shower you in pleasure." You softly squeeze his sac again, "I need you to cum for me, Halsin. I want you to cum."

You reach around his hips and firmly grasp his massive cock; precum leaks in an extortionate amount from the slit. Your sex painfully twinges from how much this has been driving him insane.

Taking no time and giving no mercy; you stroke his cock hard and fast, simultaneously stuffing your fingers deep in his snug asshole.

His entire body roils, his muscles bunch and he cries out into the dirt. His giant hands carving monstrous rivets in the earth beneath him.

His sphincter clenches down on your plunging fingers, his hips sputtering. You can feel the notch of his prostate underneath your fingerpads, the thick pulsing veins of his enormous cock in your hand.

He was on the verge.

"I'm going to count you down, sweet thing.. and you're going to cum for me. You're going to scream nice and loud, and cum so hard you can't walk. Understand, love?" You urge, with a commanding tone.

Halsin barely acknowledges, save for affirmative grunts and pants, through a delirious grin.

"Five.."

His hole quivers around your pounding digits.

"Four.."

His gargantuan length pulses in your hand.

"Three.."

His back arches and his arse pushes higher in the air.

"Two.."

There's not a sound but the debauched sound of your hammering his abused hole and pumping his humongous cock. His ragged breaths and choked moans echo through the forest, as he patiently abides until he's told to cum.

You purse your lips around a pleased smile. Holding him on the very knife edge of his orgasm. He whimpers and growls from the back of his throat, his body and soul ready to explode on your order.

Damn. Even like this, he still brought you pleasure.

"One."

It all happens at once, but almost in slow motion.

Halsin roars in jubilant euphoria, straining and tearing his throat, pouring out semi-sensical gratitudes, "YES! YES! Ngh. All for you. All for you, my heart. Allforyou. Yes-yes-yes !"

His hole clenches and suckers onto your talented fingers, as you drive them inside his pulsating walls. Hot, white ropes of seed spatter onto the lush greenery below him, with a force backed by nature itself.

His hips jerk and sputter as he drains himself on the floor, his hole flutters around your digits and his body turns gelatinous.

"All for you.. all for you.." he mumbles, collapsing aside to the ground, your fingers slipping out of his supplicant hole with ease, "thankyou.. thankyou." He choruses, barely able to separate the words.

Thoroughly pleased with yourself at the current state of the proud Druid Elf laying blissed before you, you press a kiss to his thigh and pat it twice with the heel of your hand.

"Well done, my heart. You came so hard for me, thank you." You callback to his words earlier in the evening.

His chuckles, a little higher in his register than usual. "Clever little thing."

You shuffle to the pack nestling in the tree roots and find dampened tissues to clean your lubed fingers, and turn back to Halsin; who is now laying splayed on his back, staring at the stars.

You smile at him, tilting your head; you truly do adore this sweet, large Elf.

You don't pull that out for just anyone.

You needed to be careful though, or this would end in disaster.

He was explicit in what his expectations were in this arrangement and you needed to temper your growing feelings.

Leaning forward, you wipe his softening member clean of excess and throw the tissues crumpled together back near the pack.

"You were right, my love." He began, a drowsy, satisfied tone in his voice, "I am with the stars." He grins broadly, limbs stretched wide.

You snort a laugh and wind your way towards him.

"See, isn't it fun to be a little selfish sometimes?" You remarked, playing idly with his chest hair.

Halsin labourously tilts his head to you and smiles, "If it feels like that, I should have done so a long time ago."

•°•°•

Phew ! Ready for more? I've got lots more to share 😏😅

[whiskeyskin]

Ooh, this shit is perfectly capturing a Halsin fic I wrote! Love this 😍

Sacred moments in time.

Halsin, despite being the scholar he is, can't seem to pay attention to any of the words on the page. All focus is on the slender, steady hands braiding his hair. On the closeness.

Nobody's taken care of him, before.

It's nice.

[vixstarria]

Apples

Alright, so this is actually going to be included in a future chapter of my longfic as a flashback, but the readership of that is a small fraction of that on my one-shots, and I giggled too much writing it to not show it to the masses.

Astarion x Tav, Act 1

Humour, ponderings on the topic of vampire physiology, my Tav being a gremlin

Rated M, I guess.

Approx. 600 words

Somewhere along the Risen Road

Astarion sat with a book, trying to ignore Asmodea as she perched next to him, loudly crunching on an apple. It was proving to be impossible to concentrate under her inquisitive stare. 

“Yes?” he said, sighing. 

“So does pussy taste like ash to you?” 

Astarion wrinkled his nose in distaste. 

“Must you be so crass?” 

“You’re really going to continue the ‘uptight noble’ act after last night?” she said with a smirk. “And I’m actually being considerate, not crass – it was only after, that I remembered vampire taste buds have certain quirks.” She shifted where she sat. “I wouldn’t shove your face into an ash tray,” she said, sounding almost apologetic, before biting into the apple again.  

“Very well,” Astarion said, shutting his book. “No, pussy tastes like pussy. And yours tastes like-” 

“The finest nectar, divine ambrosia, blah blah,” she interrupted him with a dismissive wave of her hand, talking with her mouth full. “But why?” 

“I... I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose it’s all similar to blood in that it’s still produced by the body. And-” he cut himself off, with a shake of his head. “Do you really want to talk about this?” 

“Just trying to understand you better, that’s all,” she said, swallowing. “Hmm,” she hummed, before leaning towards him with a grin and beckoning him with a finger.  

Astarion glanced in the direction Wyll and Karlach had walked off. The group was taking a short break. Their tryst in the night seemed to have gone unnoticed by anyone, and he didn’t want to make it known, at least not yet. Satisfied that they were alone, he pressed his lips against hers in a kiss. Her tongue cautiously sought his own, and he let it, before pulling away.  

“Did that taste like ash?” she asked. 

“No, that... tasted the way an apple smells,” he answered. 

“So it tasted like apple.” 

“No, it tasted like the smell.” 

“That’s the same thing,” she argued. “And do you like the smell of apples?” 

“No, it’s not the same thing,” he sighed. “And I suppose, but... Hells, how do I explain it? ...You enjoy the smell of roses, yes? But you wouldn’t want to eat one, now would you? And if you did – it would not taste the way it smelled anyway. ...Do you understand?” 

Astarion supposed he should have been annoyed by her questioning, but something in her earnestness placated him.  

Asmodea let out a prolonged “ahh” of comprehension, and he thought that would be the end of it, but then she extended her half-eaten apple towards him. 

“Lick it.” 

“What?” Now he was getting irritated.  

“Don’t chew it, just lick it. Have you tried regular food since getting tadpoled, anyway?” 

He had, and he had immediately regretted it, but he obliged her anyway.  

“Ugh,” he grimaced. “Now it tastes like ash.” 

“Fascinating,” she said, biting back into the apple. “Perhaps it’s the juice being mixed with human saliva that makes it palatable for you. I wonder if there is a minimum ratio of spit to plant liquid that is required...” 

He opened his book again, determined to ignore her.  

“I could feed you like a mama bird feeds her hatchlings,” she continued thoughtfully, looking off into the distance.  

Astarion snapped the book shut again.  

“I do not need to be fed apples!” he exclaimed. “And you are the most ridiculous person I have ever met.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled. 

Series master list

Tags:

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tragedybunny @spunky-89

@lariatbunny @whiskeyskin @asterordinary @wingsy-keeper-of-songs @spacebarbarianweird

@brabblesblog @littlejuicebox @icybluepenguin @snowfolly @ayselluna

@mj-bites @bardic-inspo

[optimisticgrey]

Dear Darlings,

I am trying to figure out the exposition for

In another life

and need your favorite acoustic songs, please? 🥺👉👈

Something that works well with one voice and a guitar

@waterdeepwife @worfs-glorious-hair @dekariosclan@astarioffsimpmain @swordsbardkat @sweetgemberry @jeneralmischief @whiskeyskin

I am a millenial after all and would favor Linkin Park but Crawling relies on a piano

Anyone not tagged, feel free to chip in :D

[whiskeyskin]

Ahh! I've been looking for this one again since I heard OGY's audio.. I knew I recognised some of the lines 🫠😏

“You had better tie me up, darling…” very nsfw (f*ck or die) update for Rogue Astarion in part 7 “Bites in the Night”

Astarion x F!Reader |E| 5.5K F*ck or Die Smut

Summary: He isn’t well… something he’s consumed… the blood of a Succubus in the heat of battle by mistake. He needs release… help… or else undead won’t be an accurate description of your vampire rogue any longer.

CW: rough sex, bondage, Sex Pollen Trope but blame those Succubi, feral rutting, blood kink (does that go without saying yet?), implied shared infection, tongue bath, raunchy and yet sweet confessions from his undead lips.

Read on AO3 | Series on AO3 | Master List

Better get your rope…

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Sunset always brought the demons out to play… and this time it had been real. Everything about the Shadow Cursed Lands fit the name… but you had all made it at last to the Last Light Inn.

Not without blood spatter and slaughter, fear and relief once victory over the Hellspawn was won.

Now at last, you can take your rest. In peace.

Most of your companions still drink and eat to their heart’s content. Of course, not your Rogue. After the fight, he had looked… gaunt. Tired. You had promised to come and let him feed, but first you needed your fill. He had flashed his smile at you before heading up the creaking stairs.

That was an hour ago. Now, you make your way to those same stairs, only to catch Shadowheart hustling down with wide eyes, Gale looking much the same as he follows.

“Come with us,” they whisper, leading you up the stairs in a hurry.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, anxiety darking your tone.

“It’s Astarion, he’s… unwell.” Gale… always so vague and polite.

“He’s in a rut,” Shadowheart snips back, exactly. “Literally.”

“What?” you startle.

“During the fight, he must have bitten and drank Succubus blood.” Gale rubs his fingers at his temple. “He’s locked in his room, but I fear he will claw his way through the door until he finds… relief.”

“Sex, you mean?” you can’t help but correct him too.

“It’s bad,” Shadowheart presses her lips together. “The blood is ten times worse than the spittle. Like, if he doesn’t find relief soon he could expire. Again. It’ll last him a full day to work out of his system.”

Your eyes go wide, your stomach sinking as well as your jaw. “Isn’t there some countermeasure? Some spell or… or potion?”

Shadowheart opens her hands, a small scroll in it. “Not for him, but for…”

“Me…” you realize. Your body tingles with the idea, that heady mix of fear of death and thrill of fucking with him. It always swims in your system before you go to his bed, but this time. It feels… more… exhilarating. More deadly. Riskier.

“It’s a scroll of Greater Protection… just in case he gets carried away.” Gale’s face screws into a look of discomfort.

“Keep your cunny from giving out on you.” Shadowheart winks.

That sinches up the knots in your stomach now. And by the time your cleric recites the spell, the dust in the air swirling into your lungs, you know you can’t turn back. You can’t forsake him.

You take a breath once they both wish you good luck, reassurances that the spell should be enough to keep you safe… but that they would come running if needed. That’s when Shadowheart stops you one more time, behind Gale’s back. She makes her face shush you silently as she shoves something into your hands.

A coil of rope. It tingles… enchanted probably for extra strength… that it could hold a deranged, sex-crazed vampire if worse came to worse.

That’s when you head up another flight of stairs, your heart beating faster with each step. Especially as you hear the grunts and growls that crescendo as you reach the landing. It’s easy to tell which room is his, the light under the door burns bright… the sounds of his voice raw and feral…

You hover your hand over the knob, sensing the magic that’s sealed him in. But you stop… that sound inside, you can tell already how he’s plagued. Rough, wet, and fast. The slap of his own hand tending to his… need.

You swallow, the beating of his fist on his cock already making you wet. Hells below… if there wasn't part of you that was just… tantalized. A small part, mostly cloaked in that heady fear to preserve your life.

But you feared no danger. And you by now… he would listen.

Maybe.

One last squeeze of the chord in your hand, you gripped the charged metal of the door, throwing it open.

He is naked, sitting on the edge of the bed at the back of the little room. His teeth glint in the firelight, his ivory skin glowing with sweat. Gods, if he had blood in his body, you are sure he would be beet red. His profile cut like the masterpiece he was. His throat bobbing as he swallows, the muscles of his arm bulging as he pleasures himself at a terrifying pace.

The sound as you shut the door behind him finally draws his attention.

He is… wild. Feral. Eyes so dilated, you can barely make out the ring of scarlet in them. His face shines from his exertions, he growls… like an animal… the second he sets eyes on you. His nose sniffing so hard at your scent… you can watch it open and close.

“Out!” He snarls, rising to his feet. That’s when you take in the full extent of his… suffering. He’s so erect, bigger than you have ever seen him. Harder. Throbbing so hard you witness it… where it stands almost vertically. Those intricate veins that usually rise subtly from his length strain dark, a web over his pale skin. “I’ll not hurt you, darling. Not you. Get out! I won’t have you!” He snaps his jaws. Every muscle in his body straining as he stands in place.

As if he’s fighting with himself.

“You will have me,” you snap back. “You don’t have a choice, do you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Not if you want to keep yourself in this realm. Undead you might be, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive… undead…”

That made him smile. Dark, wicked and still slightly manic. But it was there.

His eyes rake down your body, devouring you as he dares to let himself take one step. His eyes fall to your hand, the tangle of rope hanging visibly at your side. “Seems someone had the wisdom to not to send you in here defenseless and you stink of protective magic. Good,” he shudders as he talks. That voice sounding hollow. Pressed. Barely above a snarl. “I haven’t said this to many… but you had better tie me up, darling…”

He groans, forcing his body to move stiffly to the bed. The wood frame creaks and cracks as he crawls in, his rigid frame laying down.

That erection makes your mouth water, despite the obvious agony your vampire is enduring. But you can’t help but be mesmerized by how tall it stands as he pants on the bed. You cross to him, he can’t look at you, holding his hands out for you to bind.

Your hands work quickly, securing his arms firmly together, wrapping them to the scrollwork of the headboard.

His breathing is rough, ragged. His body twitches, shuddering each time your fingers barely grazie his arms and wrists. “Please,” he groans. “If you’re going to do this, then by the hells do it!”

His eyes are wide as he strains to look at you.

Your body aches, sympathy pains twitch down your spine to watch him quivering on the sheets. Your skin feels hot, your own body breaking into a sweat. He’s licking his lips, “Gods, if you go any slower getting something on this cock of mine, I can’t promise your safety, darling…”

You reach for that straining length, the second you wrap your fingers around it, he throbs and groans and twitches. His hips bucking into your hand, legs propped up so he can fuck anything you can get around his cock. You beat against his thrusts, that hardness unrelenting even as you move quicker than you usually do. Looking into his face, you move even faster, his face contorted in agony, his teeth biting so hard into his lips he’s bleeding.

He thrusts and groans and cries as he comes. Spurts of his seed drip down his shaft, coating his already damp lap, trailing milky streams as far as his belly.

But his breathing eases for a moment, his muscles softening just a bit perceptively. And Astarion gives a single contented sigh. “All that with just your hand. You little minx… pacing yourself?” he purrs. “Won’t you at least kiss me hello?”

You give him a small grin, at least he sounds like himself. His eyes are a bit more focused, his voice a bit more silken.

What harm could one kiss do?

You lay alongside him, pressing your lips to his.

The moment you touch, you can feel it, the heat, the lust, and the agony roaring full force through his veins. He’s straining on his bonds, trying to claw you into him. His mouth consumes you, sucking your lips inside his mouth, drawing them deep enough for him to bite. The tang of blood covers your tongue. And his.

He’s frenzied for more, biting you again and again. Drinking the blood that leaks from your kiss. Then you feel it, his legs, untethered, grip around your waist, sliding you to cover his naked, throbbing body. “Astarion!” you cry, muffled by his mouth. But he has you pinned between his thighs. Not unlike that first day in the wreckage.

His erection presses into your belly, he’s grinding it against the linen of your shirt. Rough and aggressive. As if he means to tear a hole in the soft fabric. He keeps you there, humping and riding into your abdomen. Grinding against your mound. Sucking and drinking your kiss as long as you let him.

Not that you have much of a choice, caught in his legs. “Easy,” you breathe, managing to steal your mouth back for the moment. “Easy…” you soothe again, making your body bear down against where he dry fucks against you.

“There is nothing I have in mind to do to you that would be easy…” he hisses. His voice almost sounds… not of this realm. And you press out of the clutches of his fangs. But he just raises his head higher, eyes crazed at the sight of the wounds he’s made on your bleeding and split lips.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you catch his throat under your palm. “It’s for your own good.” You feel his breath rasp, the ragged swallows of spit under your palm.

“The minx has claws…” he growls as you keep his head down.

“Only when you make me use them, Astarion,” you smirk. “Now, if you can keep your mouth to yourself, I’d be more than happy to put mine to other uses.”

“Gods, yes,” he moans. “It’s unbearable, the lust, the need to drive into you. Please put me out of this agony, darling. Please…”

The second you wrap your lips around that fleshy, pulsing head, his cock twitches out of your reach. With a smile and a lick of your tongue, you grip his straining, iron length, holding it steady as you run from base to bulging tip. The bitter tang of his cum fills your mouth. Making you swallow. Making you realize just how used to it you will be before the day of this torment is through.

You manage to still him enough with his squirming and bucking to get your mouth around him. Gods, it’s like stone in your mouth, every vein dragging over your tongue and you suck. You manage to bob your head up and down, avoiding the way he’s thrusting to get more of him down your throat.

The noises from his throat sound pained… agonized panting for more. “That’s it…” he’s hissing as you swirl your tongue around that ridge of his head. “Gods, do that again.” You do, laughing in your throat as you run your tongue over that seeping slit in his tip… so tight as you lap the stains of his cum. You feel it under your hand that works the base of his cock, that thickening, quickening spasm.

He howls, jamming his length into your pursing lips. And this time, you let him. His seed spills down your throat, spurting over your tongue and dripping in your cheeks. More with every pulse as he slowly begins to still again.

One last suck, you swallow him down. Greedily. Wondering if that succubus magic isn’t somehow in your system too. It’s heady, intoxicating. The way he’s glaring at you with his flame-kissed, glistening sweaty face.

But for now, he’s calmer. For now. “Darling…” he’s sighing as he tries to ease into the bed. “You… didn’t have to do this, you know. It’s still such a risk… if I didn’t… care for you… who knows how much of your body would be in one piece when this finally passes.”

“Oh I’m sure I’d leave in one piece… but maybe mostly bloodless and unable to walk straight…” you laugh leaning over him, placing a kiss on his dampened lips.

He slips his tongue in right away, searching for the taste of him in your mouth. He growls again, that throbbing suffering of lust raging beneath his skin again. “I want to see you,” he snarls. “I want to take you naked this time, my pet.” You shiver at the echo of pure desire in his silken voice. As if it doesn’t always drip with seduction. This… you shiver. This was even more wild, unchecked, feral. The need to rut. To fuck.

He looks at you with those heavy-lidded eyes, so dark with his lust, his attraction for you, you feel your own arousal dripping between your thighs. He purrs,“I want to be inside you, darling…”

Your hands couldn’t tug your clothes off fast enough, cursing the practicality of breeches. At last, you stood as he wished. Bared. Ready.

You scramble on the bed, throwing your legs around him. He seems… steadier. Still harder than rock, but less desperate. He strains against his binds, wriggling his lean and wiry body beneath you. So beautiful, every etched line of his muscles, every rise of his stomach, every vein that protrudes in his arms.

You caress him, once on his chest. So damp with sweat. Running your tongue up the center of those muscles, he shivers. The salt of his body makes your mouth water again.

“Hells, are we sure you haven’t ingested the same as me, my sweet?” He croons with a soft little laugh. “Or is this just all for me, darling, to ease my suffering.”

“To keep you alive? I’d do so much more than just lick the sweat from your body,” you taunt back, your voice so low and sultry, you barely recognize it.

He flashes his fangs at you, licking his lips. “Like slipping that sweet cunt on me? Riding me until you are dripping again?”

Ugh… you moan. “Yes,” you pant, “like that.”

The moment he feels your drenched folds hover over his cock, he spears into you. He screams at your union. “Sweet hells,” he groans, voice rasping and sore. “Yes, darling, give me everything. I can take it all…”

You lean over him, your hair cascading down in a curtain as you splay your hands on either side of his head. Barely brushing against his damp, unruly silver locks. You give the smallest rise of your body, the steadiest drag of your walls around his cock. He cants his hips beneath you, timing just right to shove up into your cunt as you settle back down.

A chorus of groans escape you both. He’s sputtering, “Please, darling, again,” over and over. Each time you give him what he wants, only to have him careening up into you harder. Begging for you to go faster.

Soon, your pace is breakneck, your own body shimmering in sweat as you buck and writhe and groan.

His eyes never blinking, those dark black pupils are wide as he watches your face twisting as you chase your own climax, flickering to the swaying of your breasts as they slap together each time you fuck him. They dart to watch where you are joined, where his stiffening cock pierces between your thighs, drenched in his cum and your arousal with every loud, squelching slap you make.

He’s merciless, finally hitching his hips to drive the hardest into you yet. You feel it when he comes inside you now, the sheer volume of his spew, hot and dripping from inside those walls where he’s buried in deep. Your belly aches from where he’s hammering against the end of your channel. More cum with each twitching spurt you feel. He screams like one wounded, his orgasm drawn out as you chase your peak yet. But he’s panting beneath you, catching his breath as he licks his lips.

Even more limp this time.

You’re relieved in your heart, even if your loins ache from the friction, the need to still release your own bliss. His brows furrow, his lips pouting as he looks into your eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” you gasp, even as your arms quiver and your thighs shake with the need to continue.

“No,” he squirms and tugs at the tethers. “Infernal rope. If you just let me free, I swear I’ll make it up to you…”

Your mouth waters. He would probably just find a way to break it or chew through that rope if he had to. A smirk plays across your lips, leaning forward to reach your knots. His cock slips out from inside you as you do, making him groan again.

The rope tugs apart in your fingers. Instantly his hands pull free, he shoves you over his face, so close already as you lean forward. He growls, his tongue slipping into your folds. His hands claw into your, gripping at the backs of your knees, spreading you wider as he eats into your cunt with all the hunger you feel raging in his body.

Starving, he feasts on you, and it takes all your strength to hold yourself up, hands splayed on the mattress over his head. That swirl of his tongue… that sucking of his lips on your clit, you already creep closer and closer to that swirl of heat simmering ready to consume you. It sweeps through you, cresting and tearing from your core up your spine.

And then, the world spins. His arms clutch around your legs, throwing you over. You're screaming, still spasming and clenching around nothing. Until your back is sprawled on the bed… until he’s shoved his cock into the last dregs of your orgasm. It makes you whimper his name once more, until you feel another spasm ripping through you.

Only this time, he’s pounding into you, thrust by thrust. Giving you something long and hard and cold splitting you in two as you go limp beneath him. His mouth descends on yours, sucking your breath from your body even as he traps your lips, your tongue with his own.

Manic, driven, he fucks you like one possessed, eyes wide as he finally pins you beneath him. Having his way with you as he chases that required release.

You lay back, still swollen and numb from your pleasure. But he is nowhere near close, not as his hands claw down your side, latching around your legs to make you wrap around his narrow waist. “Gods, you’re so tight, so wet… there have been none like you, darling. None I have wanted as badly as you.” He growls, fingers reaching around the backs of your ass, clamping into your cheeks. He raises you just enough to drag his length all the deeper. Making you keen and mewl and sputter incoherently.

Every nerve in your body hums, every patch of pleasure between your thighs feels him inside you. Gods, if it wasn’t for that scroll, you are certain you would pass out, lying there unconscious while he works this tainted blood from his own body.

By using yours.

By using you.

It makes you smile. Twisted and delighted to be so at his disposal. You were used to his fangs in your neck, his cock plowed into your cunt and his hips clenched between your thighs… but this…

This was intoxicating. Unbridled, unihibited fucking.

For his own sake of course.

That tainted blood and its magic being burned up with each time he filled you to bursting with his seed.

And as if his fixated eyes, hazy with his lust, can read your thoughts, he groans as he thrusts the harshest into you yet. So deep and hard and wild, you wriggle and claw against him as if you could shove him away from where he prods at the end of your cunt. But he only laughs. A laugh swallowed up as he is thrown off by another climax, another spilling of his cum that runs down your body and sticks to your skin. He pants as he looks straight into your face, manic and depraved.

“By the time this is through, your belly will swell from me, won’t it, darling? So filled with my cum, gods, you’ll be leaking for a week. For a fortnight.” He kisses into your neck, your body shivering at the chill of his breath on your skin. “And I’ll have the pleasure of smelling it, of remembering every time you took it so well, darling. I’m so very pleased…”

You look at him, half lidded and panting as he lifts his mouth from your flesh. “As I am…” you hum, running your hands up the ridges of his back, over those mysterious lines of Infernal, to thread your fingers into his damp silver hair.

He purrs as he kisses your lips, a sigh of his satisfaction as he tangles his tongue with yours. You taste yourself still in his mouth. Always so hungry, he is. It makes you wonder… “Aren't you going to beg me to feed, Astarion?”

“Hmm, if the offer is on the table, I’d love nothing more than to sup on… all… that you have to offer…”

He slowly slinks down your body. Your breath quickens, heart racing as he wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs. “Sweet hells, you're going to…”

The lap of his tongue up your seam again unravels you immediately. Your hands fly into his hair, pushing him away and pulling him deeper into your cunt with equal measure. You don’t know which you want more. He’s feeding on you, humming in delighted pleasure as he licks his cum from your folds, his eyes gazing up into your face as you pant and watch. Mesmerized by every dart and swirl of his pink tongue.

He licks his lips, “There is only one thing sweeter than the taste of us,” he purrs, low and deep in his throat, before he laps in a long, wet streak up your thigh. “Your blood, darling, my first living blood, and the last I ever want to drink in the realm…”

Your heart skips a beat, his words sweetening the pain of his bite into your thigh’s supple flesh. “Yes, love, yes,” you feel the wave of your joining… your connection by blood as you now fill him as he has filled you.

“That’s why I call you my sweet, you know… my little treat. None I have tasted… nothing comes close to how your blood sings in my veins like the way your body trembles beneath me.”

He bites you again and again up and down your thigh… little nips of his fangs, making blood drip down the softness of your skin as he licks every tiny trickle.

And all the while, he growls hungrily as he feeds.

It isn’t pain that fills you… not even pleasure. It is pure rapture. Pure bliss that rides up and down your spine. His fingers slowly, languorously curling into your folds, catching on that secret spot just inside that he knows so well.

“You’ve been so generous,” he purrs, letting the low rumbles of his voice shake into your already throbbing folds. “So good to help me through this. Giving me everything.” He glances up from between your thighs, pure wicked delight on his handsome face. “Well, I hope you haven’t given me everything. I think this tainted blood is going to take much, much more before it’s through…”

He pauses his sweet words to circle your clit, sucking it hard in time with the pulsing of those long, cold fingers inside you.

“You will come for me again, won’t you?”

You can’t even get a word in before he builds you to bursting. Driving you to shatter on his hand, under his mouth, as that voracious tongue laps at the arousal that spills from you. Your world spins, nothing but his touch on your skin, his fingers still clenched deep in your cunt.

You’re floating, limp as your muscles flood with warmth and pleasure. Steadied only by the bed at your back and the little sucks of his lips and the wet passes of his tongue over the blood on your thighs.

“Mmm,” he hums as he draws himself up to sit between your outstretched legs. “Every time with you is just perfect. And not just because it’s chasing the devil from my veins, you know…”

He shifts over you, dragging that heavy, cold, unyielding body across your skin. Making you shiver. Spasm. Making you reignite with desire for more of him again and again. That knee… that wicked, provocative knee… it creeps beneath yours to hook you, to spread you wide again as he glides his cock through the mess of your unions already drenching you.

“Seems you still have some of the devil in you, needing to be driven away, hmm?” you flirt, trying to maintain some composure, until he grinds against your already overstimulated folds, your aching clit, reducing you to nothing but moans and spasm.

And he laughs. “Why, my darling, it seems your body is as raging as mine.” His hands stroke against your cheek, fingers teasing their tips into your errant strands of hair that stick to your face. “Why, if I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were the one infected, if I didn’t still have this raging erection needing release…”

You catch him by surprise, buckling your knees around his waist, the wetness of your cunt almost drawing him inside you as you buck against him.

He groans, just a little thrust of his hips and he’s sheathed, so deep and already pulsing with that tainted, blinding need to fuck again.

You giggle, watching his eyes darken, his lids lowering to gaze with all the raging lust in his body upon the one he desires. The only one. As he is yours. You sigh, running your hands up those intricate scars of his back, “I am infected too, you know. Infected by my need for you, perhaps.”

His kiss descends to cover your lips, but it is one of tenderness. Longing. Unsated need softened by the affection that brims in the way he takes you this time.

He is slower, deliberate. Each thrust an offering of adoration for your body. Each drag of his cock inside your folds an expression of his gratitude, his devotion.

His proclamation that you are, in fact, perfect.

Your body rides his, melting into every motion your legs tight around his narrow waist, his arms slinking around your shoulders, pressing your face into the broadness of his shoulder. You gasp against his neck, wrapped in his pleasuring of you, as if you could pull him into your very being more.

That rhythm, that rocking, it begins to sweep you away, binding you to his body. Claiming you for his own. That same fever crawls in his veins as he clutches at you, that tempo increasing harsher. Faster. Until he’s groaning with all his feral drive again.

He pulls out from you, only to slam himself into your cunt, every inch of that long, pulsing length of his filling you to bursting.

He can’t take his eyes off you, raised up in his hands now. His crimson glare consumes your every reaction, every twitch and grin and grimace of painful bliss that he commands from you. Pummeling into you over and over again, your hands claw into his shoulders, slipping down his back to savor the feeling of every undulation of his hips into your core.

“So good… so perfect…” he purrs, ravenous in his gaze, “my only blood… my living blood…” the hard lines of his body ride over every nerve in yours. Your body burns. On fire. Consumed. His words tingle in your ear, caressing your heart that raps in your chest, pattering in time with his merciless thrusts.

It’s brutal, it’s unrelenting.

It’s wonderful. The sliding of his sweat soaked body over yours, your skin flaming and damp. “Hells,” you groan as that thick head of his cock presses and drags over that sweet spot in your channel. “Astarion…” you moan his name, almost incoherent aside from all he is.

“Mmmm darling,” he rasps, “no sweeter sound than my name on your lips… well,” he hums giving you thighs and extra hard slap that squelches with all your sweat and arousal, “aside from the way your body sounds as you take me over and over again so eagerly…”

Your eagerness peaks, your body ripping in two around the rapid plundering inside you. You sputter his name again, a moan that tears from your throat, a scream that makes his handsome face twisting in ecstasy as he rams hardest yet, pulsing and hitching and forcing his eyes to stare as you unravel. Sopping and drenched, the warmth of your fresh slick mingles with his, coating your thighs and his as it seeps from where you couple.

He groans, dropping his weight on you, blanketing you in his scent and sweat and panting frame. He places his damp forehead against your cheek, his cool breath making you shiver as he finally seems to relax. Even if his cock is still hardened and buried inside you.

You feel the rigid planes of his body slipping across yours with every one of your combined breaths. Signing in relief, you relish just how dirty you feel.

How dirty you’ve been.

“Once this has worked its way from your system, you will need to bathe me,” you pant. Your fingers linger and stray through the damp and sweaty curls of silver that stick to his face.

“That can be arranged…” those eyes, that face suddenly twisting again with all the depravity he still has simmering under his skin and in his mind. “Or would you settle for my tongue instead, darling?”

You shake your head, face bright, amused and skeptical. “As if you could accomplish that without bending me over in your state…”

“Mmmm,” he nuzzles against you, tilting his face to run the cold, damp pad of his tongue up your jaw. Laughing as you tremble. “You assume I could accomplish such a feat as resisting your charms without this suffering of tainted blood…”

He slips his cock from inside you, and you moan into his mouth, turning to bring that taunting smirk against your lips. Just for a moment kissing him, before he returns to lapping and caressing your sweat soaked cheek. You sigh with relief, stretching your legs, clenching them together to relieve the throbbing of your muscles.

And this was with that magical healing to sustain you.

You shake your head, in amused, affectionate irritation. Feeling his still erect cock beginning to rub against your hip. His tongue darts across your neck, the unvoiced question in the deliberate lapping and dragging of his fangs on your flushed and pulsing neck.

“For the love, please,” you pant, arching into him with your feverish body, your lust still matching his each time it rises, even as your muscles and marrow scream for reprieve. “Just a bit of rest, love, surely that tainted blood’s hold on you is lessened…”

“But what of your hold on me, hmm?” he rasps into the rapid pulse of your neck. “What if it’s not the succubus whose magic has consumed me, driven me mad and feral, making me no more than a rutting beast…” he gives that low throated giggle. “Your fault, you know, my sweet.”

You breathe heavily, aroused and exhausted in equal measure. “I take full blame,” you laugh weakly, “but it’s only because you’re so beautiful…”

“And witty… and passionate…” he adds a roll of his hips as he utters that last word, grinding that still hardened cock against your side.

“Just… a breath,” you plead. “Just a moment. You don’t seem to be so near death’s door now…”

“I’ll try not to take offense at that barb, given how good you’ve been and how much I’ve fucked you senseless,” he chides.

You laugh again, a bit of a whine in your voice. “Can’t you take care of just one by yourself…”

He murmurs in your ear. “Darling, I’ll take my pleasure from you in every way, in every hole, until this tainted blood is burned up in the blaze of my lust for you,” he groans, “or until I’ve completely exhausted you, leaving you spent and heaving. And then I’ll simply seek my own pleasure just at the sight of you sleeping.”

You stretch, clenching your whole body hoping for that release and rest. If he lets you have it for a moment. “Mmmm, well love, sounds like I’ll really need that bath in the morning any way you come at it…”

He giggles again. Naughty. Dirty. His hand now wrapped firmly around his cock, rubbing for himself, letting it beat against your skin softly. “Oh… I’ll come at it, don’t you fret… darling.”

[lunette-bleu]

I love this type of tag game! Thanks for the tag @auroraesmeraldarose 😁 Without naming them, post 10 gifs of films you've seen and then tag 10 people!

This was so fun, and now I want to do a movie marathon 😂

Anyways, tagging some people, absolutely no pressure: @xxnashiraxx @nerdalmighty @honeybee-bard @theons-sausage @pinkberrytea @waterdeep-weavemoss @badmarilynart @potatoedwards @oflights @whiskeyskin

[busy-baker]

Thanks for the tag @mutualcombat! 😊

Rules: Shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first 10 songs, then tag 10 friends to do the same.

Let’s see how my music taste measures up

1. Enemy - Imagine Dragons

2. Hayloft - Mother Mother

3. Espresso - Sabrina Carpenter

4. The Therapist - Foreign Air

5. Rush - Troye Sivan

6. Secunda - Jeremy Soule

7. Elephant - Tame Impala

8. Sailor Song - Gigi Perez

9. Ma Meilluere Ennemie - Strommae and Pomme

10. Hot Mess - Friday Pilots Club

Tagging: @amoremagnificentbastard @kalmiaphlox @emmy-dekarios-bg3 @locallegume @nyxueaurelia @strawbebbie-fields @whiskeyskin @obsessedwhyyes @davenswitcher @bardic-inspo

[whiskeyskin]

Love and Longing

Premise: When Elminster delivers Mystra's blessing to reprieve Gale from the Orb's volitile nature, there's a certain something he's been denying himself for over a year and he's finally alone in his tent 👀🍆💦

• Gale x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M Rating

Gale's POV, reader referred as "you", no mention of specific pronouns or genitals, porn without plot, male masturbation, fantasising, oral both recieving, penetration, jealousy, love, longing, horny!gale, fluff, lemons, Astarion x gn!tav referenced, marking if you squint

1.9k words

Gods bless you @wizardblood for this gifset we gladly receive 🥵✨

Part 2 here, if you like that sort of thing?

A/N: Y'all are making me UGLY CRYY WITH JOY AT THESE LOVELY COMMENTS 😭😭😚😚 Thank you for over 800 notes!! You beautiful, thirsty creatures 😏💜

A/N: 1k NOTES?! 🥹🥹 I love each and every SINGLE one of you 😚✨

_____________________________

Gale looked down at the solid protrusion currently causing his bedroll to tent, attempting to keep his breathing even.

It had been what felt like an age since he'd allowed himself to indulge in arousal.

He lay under the blankets, naked as a babe, anticipation crackling in the air around him.

After removing the charm on his underwear to suppress such feelings, it had all come flooding back.

Especially with you around.

His attraction to you was undeniable, however much he thought it impossible; especially after his heartbreak with Mystra. Nevertheless, his feelings for you grew with each step you took, every kind word and all the good you sought to accomplish.

You'd spoken in his defense passionately when Elminster had delivered Mystra's word; the fire in your heart had rivalled that of Karlach.

You'd vowed that there was another way to be found. That you wouldn't allow him to sacrifice himself.

And he loved you for it.

Gods dammit, he did.

He'd fallen hard for you.

He tried to deny it, of course.

It wouldn't lead anywhere.

He had to die.

It was his destiny to end the Absolute, whatever the cost.

No matter stolen glances across the campfire. Ignoring the heated moment of magic between you, where you'd shown him how you felt for him.

Besides, you'd taken Astarion to bed multiple times since the Tiefling party. He couldn't compete with the sultry advances of the Pale Elf.

His paultry offerings of affection wouldn't stand a chance.

But still, a part of him envisioned what life could be like if it was spent by your side.

Hearth crackling, the day's sun swooping low in the sky across the water, two arm chairs and a bottle of wine.. candle light and the smell of strawberries, sweat and arousal. The sound of your voice against his ear, the feeling of your wet, ribbed warmth welcoming him home after a long and stressful day.

Gale licked his bottom lip, his breathing heavy. He reached a hand under the sheets, in the privacy of his tent, to indulge in thoughts of you.

Gods, he wanted to use his mouth on you, he wanted to drown in your heady scent. He would press kisses against your inner thighs, teasing and tormenting, languishing tongue and teeth.

Your unfettered arousal evident before him as he would glide his mouth up your sex, tasting your sweetness and salt. You'd moan his name and wind a fist into his hair, sending sparks through his scalp.

He took the tip of himself in his first fingers, pre-cum had already gathered between the slit and dripped onto his stomach.

Taking a deep breath, he began to gently pulse the head. He hissed as blinding pleasure seared across his vision and sunk low in his belly.

"Ahhh.." he exhaled, with a widening, sinful grin.

Finally, he could touch himself after all these months.

He gritted his teeth against another groan that tried to escape. The sensation of oanism foreign to him but welcome, thoughts of you flooding his mind, as he fell into an old, familiar rhythm.

Oh, you would moan so sweetly underneath him, as he filled you to the brim with his cock. You'd envelop him to the root, sensually clenching your walls around his girth.

Gale replicated the feeling by adding a second hand to squeeze, imagining you enveloping him.

He moved slow and deliberate, like you were taking him for the first time. Every rib of his fingers torture against his sensitive flesh. He pumped his hands in unison, along the thick, veined length of himself, building up the pressure constricting his erection, increasing the speed and fantasizing that he was entangled in your loving embrace.

He'd hold your legs aloft, parted just for him. You'd bray like a wild animal in heat, with the need for his throbbing length to ride you to climax.

One hand clumsily slid to cup his testicles, to massage them and drive him closer to the edge. His hips gyrated at nothing, rutting against the thought of you.

You'd climb to take control and ride him like a stallion through the night. He would hear the salacious slapping of your cheeks against his hips, as he'd watch you bounce yourself in wanton bliss.

He'd hold on to your waist, fingertips digging in hard enough to cause contusions.

He wanted to bruise you, claim you as his own. He wanted to sucker his ownership right over Astarion's bite marks.

He had no right to this ugly and repulsive feeling of jealousy, he knew this.. but he couldn't help himself.

They both vied for your attention and he couldn't stand that Astarion had tasted you when he hadn't.

He wanted to hear your cries as he fucked up into you, slamming your hips down on him harder. Gods, he wanted his name on your lips.

Gale licked the sweat gathering on his top lip; he imagined it was you tasting him.

He fantasied about you using your beautiful mouth on him. You'd cover his body in long, wet, trailing kisses before you'd take him in your mouth. You'd gorge on his cock until he couldn't breathe. Your skillful tongue needy to please him. Your hands wielding a very different kind of weapon, sheathing it entirely down your spectacular throat.

You'd look up at him through lidded gaze, his hard length completely engulfed. The contact would be searing, it would burn him to the spot, it would ignite his soul and turn him to willingly to ash.

There would be love and devotion in your eyes, blissful happiness in your heart.

Gale swallowed and shook his head from side to side.

He wanted to see you.

Wanted you to see him.

See him like this for you.

Helpless and desperate for just a moment of you.

He wanted you to look at him with adoring eyes that turn lustful, when you see him abusing himself, with your name on his lips.

Gale uttered the illusion cantrip and you appeared on your knees beside him. He gasped and smiled brightly at you. He knew it wasn't real but gods he wanted it to be.

You smiled back at him, infatuation shining in your eyes.

"Gale.." softly came the only word he'd been able to summon you to utter. It was warped but it was still your voice. It was still you.

He threw back the covers so you could see him. See all of him. Naked. So you could drink in the sight of him stroking his thick, alert and wanting cock to the thought of you.

"It's for you. Only for you. Going to come for you-just for you." He managed, his voice husky from lust.

"Gale.." You whispered, licking your lower lip and gliding your hands up your strong thighs. You cup yourself through your camp garb and palm yourself in circles, "Gale.." you moan, throwing your head back slightly as you ground against your hand.

His hips twitched unconsciously at seeing your image pleasuring yourself for his enjoyment. That you felt this joy together.

A rumble started to build behind his cock, it tightened around his belly and coiled itself around his legs. It rose through his chest, painfully electrifying his nipples to stiff points, as it wound it's way to the base of his skull. There it gripped him, held him, allowed him to go no further.

He whined in frustration. Gods he wanted to come, it had been so long, so very long.

"Gale..?" Came your voice, he looked at you and his stomach flipped uncomfortably in desire.

You looked spectacular; hair mussed, eyes glassy and wide, lips pink and swollen from lust. Still touching yourself through your clothes, rocking vigorously against the friction.

You placed a hand on your heart and threw your head back in ecstasy. His body began to violently tremble in anticipation.

Oh gods, you looked resplendent on the precipice of orgasm.

"Gale!" You whimpered, sweat glistening on your skin, "Gale.. Gale.. Gale.." you moaned between breaths, your image replicating the noises he'd overheard when you'd snuck into the forest, and committed to memory. The reckless abandon of your heady moans of pleasure. Your face tightened and released, your mouth falling open to gasp.

The desire at the back of his head suddenly pulled taut, every muscle strained, pressure swelling behind his erection. His eyes rolled back in his head, before he came undone.

He jerked and thrashed on his bedroll, trying and failing to keep his ministrations to himself. Thick spurts of cum shot over his stomach, chest and neck, as he came hard for you.

"For you-all for you-only for you." He whimpered, his jaw tense, teeth bared.

He pumped raggedly, squeezing every single drop of his seed from himself. It was almost to the point of pain but the pleasure balanced it perfectly to make the suffering delicious. His muscles seized and toes curled to their fullest extent, as he huffed out a breath and lay feeling weightless on the carpeted interior of his tent.

Gale lay there breathing heavily, sweat damp on his brow. His softening cock still pulsating with after effects, within his loose grasp, as his brain buzzed with static.

His heart felt twice it's size and his entire being was in total elated relaxation, with a doltish smile plastered across his face.

He could quite happily lay like this forever.

It had been so long.

He couldn't remember release being like this.

It was.. dizzying.. violent.. euphoric.. transcendent.. monumentous..

sticky..

cold..

uncomfortable..

"Oh no." Gale groaned, as he looked down on his masterpiece.

Your image had disappeared; there was no way he couldn't have concentrated through that kind of orgasm, even if his life depended on it.. and Mystra's eyelids, the mess he'd made of himself.

His cum lay heavy on his stomach and chest, spattered up to his neck and jaw. Hells, it was even on the floor!

He internally grumbled to himself.

This was the not so fun part of masturbation.

The sharp thud back to reality and the clean up.

He sighed. Well, that was short lived.

Lucky for a Wizard, clearing away the stains of his growing shame, was painless.

Gale waved his hand and the evidence of his debauchery disappeared.

He suddenly felt empty and hollow. The euphoria of release gone all too soon. Slumping back on to his bedroll and bringing the covers up against the chill, he frowned to himself, a cavernous feeling in his chest.

Gale waved his hand, using his last spell slot to conjure your image again.

You appeared laid down with him, tucked closely, your stunning eyes soft and content.

His heart ached; he wanted this.

It didn't matter how much he denied it, he knew what love felt like in the beginning and this was it.

This wasn't because of a covetous, lustful haze from the urgency of ejaculation.

It was comfort.

It was safety.

It was love.

And it terrified him.

More than the thought of ending as a small blip in the farest reaches of the realm. More than dying alone in excruciating agony.

Falling in love with you scared him because it meant that now, he had something to live for.

You smiled sleepily at him and readjusted yourself to get comfortable beside him.

"Night." You whispered, blowing him a slow kiss, closed your eyes and curled in nearer to him.

He stared longingly at your resting form; you looked so peaceful. Wet stinging burned his eyes and he sniffed dryly.

He needed to get to sleep.

He really should..

You'd only last a minute.

He couldn't bare the thought of opening his eyes again without you there, laying beside him..

Tears fell from his eyes and dripped to his pillow, as he shut them tight, "Goodnight, my love."

•°•°•

Part 2

Or.. I've got a Masterlist.. yuh know.. if you like this sort of stuff 👀😏

[whiskeyskin]

Oh dang y'all.. there's eatin' for everyone here!

MASTERLIST ✍🏻

Hi! This post is a huge collection of all my writing tips in one place. I will update this list daily and add new posts

Writing Tips

How do i Plot a Book?

Childhood Friends to Lovers Gestures

Showing 'Fear' in Writing

examples of body language and action tags

Writing Trust Issues Tension

Quick Tips for Writing Emotional Tension

How to Write a Ruthless Character

Showing 'Anger' in Writing

12 Emotional Wounds in Fiction Storys

Gestures for Shared Moments

Symbolism in Writing

Instead of "Looked", consider

Words to Use Instead of "Said"

Showing 'Determination' in Writing

Showing 'Confusion' in Writing

Showing 'Anticipation' in Writing

Introduce characters

Showing 'Exhaustion' in Writing

Showing 'Excitement' in Writing

Writing a Morally gray character

Showing 'Jealousy' in Writing

Showing 'Love' in Writing

OC Developement

Eye Color to Define Your OC,

Describe your Main Character sheet

Body type and shape

Good Traits Gone Bad

Dialogues

Dialogue Prompts that Hurts

Jealousy Starters

Dialogue Prompts for Friendship

Dialogue Prompts for Unrequited Love

Gestures of Loss

When A Character Is dealing with anxiety they…

When A Character Is hilariously confused they…

Isolation Starters

Regretful gestures

Undermining Confidence Starters

When a character is Babysitting for the first time

Control Starters

Guilt-Tripping Starters

Soft angers Dialogue

Gaslightning Starters

Emotional Blackmail Starters

When A Character Is stuck in a never-ending traffic jam they…

Dialogue Prompts for Mystery/Thriller

When A Character Is dealing with an overenthusiastic fitness trainer they…

Confidence Starters

Prompts

Physical Intimacy Prompts

forced proximity prompts

When A Character Is feeling nostalgic they…

When A Character Is excited about something they…

Prompts for self-Doubt

When A Character Is excited about something they…

Grumpy & Sunshine Affection Prompts

Moral Dilemmas Prompts

when a Character us stressed they…

Supernatural Elements Prompts

Family Secrets Prompts

When A Character Is in a state of panic they…

Inner Conflict Prompts

Twist Prompts

Conflict Prompts

Signs of ….

Signs of Embarrassment

If You’re Writing a…

How to Create a Villain

If You’re Writing a Female Character, Avoid these Bad Writing Mistakes

Emotionally reserved characters

If you’re writing a character who is Naive

Writing Love

How to Write a Confession of Love

forbidden love prompts

When A Character Is in love they…

Signs of Falling in Love

Gestures for Expressing Love

Love Triangle Gestures

Writers Block

Ideas to Get Rid of Writer's Block Inspo

[vixstarria]

WIP Folder Game

Tagged by @tragedybunny, @bhaalbaaby, @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate and @brabblesblog - thank you!

How to play:

post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Oh boy. Here goes:

Astarion sandwich

Blood outline

Early Act 1 oral outline

Fic X - Act 3

No touch oral outline

Peering into the mind of a dark consort

Portrait

Post-performance HJ outline

Tomorrow

And then there's bits and pieces for my longfic, but it's just under chapter numbers.

Some of these have been sitting as WIPs for months, and will likely just be discarded entirely.

I think most of the usual victims of my tagging have already been tagged by others. 😅 Hmm.

No pressure tags:

@spacebarbarianweird @thechaoticdruid @mj-bites @nyx-knox @ineadhyn @leomonae @themadlu @whiskeyskin @davenswitcher

[optimisticgrey]

Friday WIPs

Is that even a thing? Don't know, don't care. Show me your WIPs.

I just found this in one of my discard sections and liked it

“Will you tell me the topic on which you concluded? That you do not mind me dancing awfully with Wyll?” "I hadn’t planned on employing such a facsimile for something I hold so dearly, but… yes.” Gale takes a deep breath, his eyes searching her face for reassurance. “What I share with you, it’s not something that can be confined to mere physical longing or the fleeting whims of the heart. What we have transcends any simple category, defies even the most intricate attempts of others to understand it. It is deeper, a bond that exists beyond the surface of perception—a connection that stretches across lives, not limited by touch or time.” He sighs, a touch of regret shadowing his voice. “I must apologize for something I said years ago in Baldur’s Gate. When you first asked me about this... I spoke in foolishness, reducing it to something as banal as sharing a piece of bread. It was a poor analogy, and for that, I am deeply sorry. You are not something to be shared or divided. You are not a possession, not a…. thing to be claimed or owned. And it was never my intention to make you feel this way. The truth is, I was—and still am—terrified to my very core.” He pauses, searching her face as if the right words might be written there. “Terrified of losing you, of watching you slip through my fingers like sand. It’s not a fear rooted in jealousy, but rather the fear of losing the one person who makes my world feel like it’s spinning in the right direction. I do not wish to own you; I only want to be a part of your life, however you choose to share it with me.”

darling no-pressure-tags @tociminna @astarioffsimpmain @lostintheweave @whiskeyskin

and - of course - anyone else who wants to🫶

[whiskeyskin]

Yes. Yes please.

❛ pairing: Astarion/f!Tav; Astarion/f!OC (Ysera) ❛ word count: 4.8k ┊ ❛ rating: 18+ MDNI ❛ tags/cw: pegging, submissive Astarion, rough sex, handjobs, rimming

‣ preview: Ysera swallows thickly, her heart stuttering in her chest. Astarion's eyes blaze with curious delight as he pretends to wait patiently for her response. She bites her lip, eyes darting around the room as if someone somewhere might overhear her if she speaks too loudly. So she leans in close to Astarion's ear and sheepishly whispers it to him instead.

“I want to know how it feels to be inside you.”

AO3 ┊ series masterlist

Ysera sneezes loudly, stirring up a cloud of dust motes. The old wizard’s tower they've found themselves in has been empty of any real treasure – not unless they count the dust, which is more abundant than anything else here. She and Astarion have made it to the top with barely anything to show for it but wasted time.

Ysera sighs heavily as she reaches for a worn, leather-bound book in the middle of an oak table, staring curiously at the cover. It has no title, but the golden embossed design of two elves engaged in a display of passionate lovemaking tells her enough about its contents. She chances a glance over her shoulder to ensure Astarion isn't looking and peeks inside.

The first several pages chronicle the author's fascination with the subject of sexuality and the nature of physical and emotional attraction. There's a passage about the importance of indulging one's own desires, but she scrunches her face and stops reading when the author begins to describe his own exploits in great detail.

“Ugh. No thank you.”

Flipping through the rest of the pages, she sees a catalog of names and details of equally explicit acts, growing more and more flustered as her eyes scan the parchment. She's so absorbed in what she's doing that when Astarion suddenly claps a hand on her shoulder, she lets out a yelp of surprise.

“What have you got there, darling?”

“It's –” she begins, then shakes her head. She's not certain how to describe it – or if she even wants to. “It's weird.” Astarion leans over her shoulder and begins to read. He snorts as he spots a particularly racy entry, then another, and another still, turning page after page to confirm that, yes, this is indeed the entire book.

“You think whoever wrote this watched all these people get it on?” Astarion laughs snidely. “What a freak.”

Ysera mirrors his laugh. “To each their own, I suppose.” She tries to close the book but finds that it suddenly won't budge, almost as if phantom hands have pried it open. A faint magical aura envelopes the pages, which begin to turn of their own accord, faster and faster before they're both staring at a completely blank page near the back of the book.

Try as she might to drop the book, her body refuses to listen to her commands, and even Astarion is helpless to pry it from her hands before a blinding light manifests above the pages and engulfs them completely. The last thing she hears is the sound of her own scream as Astarion grips her tightly.

When she opens her eyes, Ysera expects to see anything but the large, lavish bedchamber they find themselves in. A massive four-poster bed sits against the far wall, the sunlight that spills through an adjacent window casting shadows on the duvet through the canopy. The room smells faintly of lavender and clean linens, adding to the eerie sense of calm that fills the space and makes it far more intimate, especially considering its size.

Astarion and Ysera exchange curious glances.

“Where in the hells are we?” Astarion says, eyes narrowed suspiciously as he scans the room for any signs of danger. They appear to be the only ones here, no obvious traps or intruders lying in wait.

Ysera shrugs, equally as baffled. “I think that book sucked us up,” she hypothesizes, scowling when Astarion snickers.

“Your words, darling, not mine.” 

He turns away to investigate. The only door in the room is sealed shut, no amount of force making it budge even slightly. There are no keyholes for him to pick the lock, and he gives up on that fruitless endeavor with a sigh as he turns back to see if Ysera has had any more luck.

She's standing beside the bed, gazing out the window and illuminated by a beam of buttery golden sunlight. Birdsong fills the air, and she glances at him over her shoulder.

“I wish you could see this,” she says softly. “Wherever this is, it's beautiful.”

Astarion approaches her anyway, unable to see much without stepping into the sun. His curiosity gets the better of him, and he arches his back, standing on his tiptoes to catch just the slightest glimpse of the canyon that sprawls out beneath whatever clifftop this place has been built upon. But he leans just a little too far forward, his stomach lurching as he tumbles forward unexpectedly.

Ysera calls out to him, rushing to catch him. But she's too late, and Astarion stumbles into the sunlight, flinching as the warmth of the sun's rays wash over him. He grits his teeth, anticipating the searing pain he expects to feel… only to be met with the warm caress he remembers fondly from his time spent in the sun before their tadpoles were destroyed.

Time stands still as Astarion glances at Ysera, his pale skin almost glittering in the light. He hears her gasp in shock.

“It must be enchanted,” she says. “This whole place is some sort of illusion.”

“It certainly feels real,” Astarion murmurs. He straightens and slips his cloak off his shoulders, basking in the magicked sunlight. Palms upturned, he lets the warmth seep into his bones, banishing the natural chill of his undead body. Ysera smiles at him fondly, her golden eyes sparkling.

“I wish we could stay,” she says glumly. She had almost forgotten how incredible he looks in the sun.

“Careful what you wish for,” Astarion says dourly. “I don't think this book is keen on letting us leave any time soon.”

Ysera frowns, holding a hand to her mouth in thought as her brow creases. “There has to be something we're missing,” she says. “You enjoy the sun, I'll keep looking.” 

“Gladly, darling,” Astarion hums happily, laying back on the bed and stretching out like a basking cat. His eyes drift closed as he listens to Ysera rifling through the rest of the room’s contents, searching for any hint that might help them.

After a while, her footsteps become louder as she approaches him once more, and he exhales sharply when Ysera tosses a book onto his stomach. Astarion takes the book in his hands as he sits up, eyes drifting between it and Ysera as he waits for an explanation. 

“Don't you recognize it?” she asks, arms crossed. Astarion gives the book a closer inspection, realizing as soon as he opens it that it's an exact replica of the book they had found in the ruined tower.

“And?” he asks, lifting a brow. “I don't see how this is supposed to get us out of here.”

“Look at the last entry,” she tells him. Astarion does as he's told, flipping through the pages before something catches his eye. Sure enough, at the bottom of one of the pages, he reads the words aloud, scrawled in the same flowing script:

Astarion Ancunín and Ysera Whitlock:

There's nothing written below, and Astarion doesn't even have time to contemplate exactly how the book knows who they are or how their names have mysteriously appeared on the page before Ysera shifts on her feet and says, “You get it, don't you?”

Astarion stares up at her and shakes his head, waiting for her to continue.

“This book is like… some weird record of all those people's deepest desires, right? What if they were trapped here, just like us?” Her face grows red, and she stammers, “What if it wants us to, you know… add our own? That would explain this fancy room. The windows and doors are all sealed. I don't know how else we're supposed to get out.”

Astarion slams the book shut and tosses it on the bed beside him, huffing a wry laugh.

“Trapped in a lecherous old book… Wonderful. Now I've certainly seen everything.” He runs his hand through his hair and pinches the bridge of his nose, considering her suggestion. It does make sense, of course, once he looks past the bizarre notion of it all. It's not too far out of the realm of possibility, he supposes. He's seen his fair share of strange, enchanted tomes, but at least this one is mostly benign, provided Ysera's assumption is correct.

“All right,” he says, shrugging. They're stuck here anyway; might as well enjoy themselves in the meantime. “But there's just one problem, darling: we've done practically everything there is to do with one another.”

Ysera grows even redder, the blazing heat in her face spreading down her neck and beneath her robes. Astarion assumes she's simply remembering all the nights they've spent tangled up in one another, but it surprises him completely when she says instead: “Not everything. There's… there's something I'd still like to try, actually.” Her tail flicks two and fro behind her the way it always does when she's feeling anxious.

A wicked grin spreads across Astarion's face, and he eagerly gets to his feet and crosses the short distance between them. He leans close, purposely making Ysera squirm with embarrassment as he tries to guess exactly what it is she's thinking of.

She's adventurous enough in bed, to be sure, but she typically prefers more standard methods of lovemaking. Whatever this is must truly be something scandalous if it's getting her this worked up just thinking about it.

“Do tell,” he purrs, tipping her face up with a single elongated finger.

Ysera swallows thickly, her heart stuttering in her chest. Astarion's eyes blaze with curious delight as he pretends to wait patiently for her response. She bites her lip, eyes darting around the room as if someone somewhere might overhear her if she speaks too loudly. So she leans in close to Astarion's ear and sheepishly whispers it to him instead.

“I want to know how it feels to be inside you.”

Astarion's cock twitches immediately in response, already straining against his laces. Her suggestion ignites something primal deep inside him. He's been penetrated before, of course, but never by her. Never with a partner he actually wanted to be with. It hadn't crossed his mind before, but now he can't stop himself from thinking about it, about her pressed against his back as she thrusts inside him, being the one to hold him down as he writhes beneath her. Surrendering control to the person he trusts most of all. 

An exhilarating proposition, to say the least.

“My, my…” Astarion says slyly, “who knew you were harboring such wicked little fantasies all this time?” He smirks at her through his fangs, unable to conceal the hungry way his eyes rove over her body. Ysera seems to notice how eager her suggestion has made him, if the erratic racing of her heart is any indication.

There is, of course, one small caveat they've yet to address.

“I'm curious to know how you plan to accomplish that without a cock,” Astarion says as he tips his head to the side, studying her. “Not unless you've been very, very good at keeping that little secret to yourself all this time.”

Ysera laughs – almost confidently, none of her apparent nervousness lingering in her expression now that Astarion seems more than open to the idea of letting her fuck him.

“Oh, no,” she says, flashing him a smile as her lips quirk upward. “I have a spell for that.”

So she's been thinking about this for a while. Gods. His cock is almost painfully hard, and he wants nothing more than to rip his clothes off and let her ravish him.

Ysera elaborates further – much to Astarion's dismay, although he supposes he's curious to know exactly where she learned such a trick. He'd swear she was doing it on purpose just to torment him if he didn't know her any better.

“There's a spell for everything, if you know where to look. You know how I've been visiting Gale in Waterdeep, from time to time?” Her eyes narrow to match the mischievous grin that spreads across her face. In a hushed whisper, she says, “His private library has quite an array of books on all sorts of… interesting subjects.”

Astarion groans and finally pulls her into his arms, exceptionally tired of not being able to feel the curves of her body pressed against him. She feels his erection now, brows lifting as he bends down to kiss her firmly on the lips. He bites her lower lip with his blunted teeth and growls, “Remind me to thank that wizard the next time I see him.”

Within moments, the two of them have shed their clothing, tossing it into a pile behind them. They're both far too eager to deny themselves much longer, an unspoken understanding of their mutual desire for one another.

Astarion watches with rapt attention as Ysera casts her spell. The ease with which she speaks the incantation and the precise movements of her hands are enough of an indication that she's practiced this before, and he wonders just how far she's taken it. A faint aura glows between her legs, tracing the outline of the thick, heavy cock that soon materializes in its wake. It's clearly magicked, translucent and resembling one of her Mage Hand spells, but the way it bobs and sways as convincingly as his own makes his mouth water.

Astarion wets his lips and steps towards her.

“Does it –?” He tries. “I mean, can you feel it?”

“Mhmm,” Ysera hums pleasantly. “I only tried it out before to make sure the spell worked. I wanted to save the rest for you.”

Oh. By the gods, she spoils him.

His hand hovers over her cock, and he looks into her eyes. “Can I?” he rasps.

“Yes. Please.”

Ysera's breath catches when Astarion wraps his hand around her cock; it feels real enough, firm and slightly warm in his palm as he strokes it slowly, watching the way her face contorts as she holds back a moan. He clearly knows what he's doing, brushing his thumb over the slit on the upstroke, squeezing gently before he glides his hand back down to the base above her pubic bone where it molds to the shape of her body.

With its weight still in his palm, Astarion's fingers dip curiously beneath Ysera's legs, and he groans when he finds her wet and wanting, her slick folds dripping with arousal as the cock in his hand throbs and twitches.

“Hmm, what have we here?” He glides his fingers across her opening and teases her clit, using his spare hand to fist her cock and work her there as well.

“Astarion.” The effect he has on her is evident in the wanton way she moans and rocks her hips into his hand, electric pleasure singing through her veins. She doesn't know if she can come like this, how closely the spell imitates a real cock, but her legs begin to buckle and she doesn't know how much longer she can last if he keeps this up. 

She's used to him touching her, is familiar with how that feels, but this is something altogether unexpected. Her cunt clenches around nothing, arousal dripping obscenely down her thighs. Astarion reluctantly releases her, and she lets out a sigh, both out of relief and disappointment.

“I’m supposed to be the one pleasuring you, remember?” she pants breathlessly. She inclines her head towards the bed, still bathed in radiant sunlight. “Get on the bed. On your knees.” Astarion needs no further encouragement.

The plush mattress sinks beneath both of their bodies as Ysera makes herself comfortable behind Astarion, who's propped himself up on his hands and knees and lifted his hips towards her. His own cock hangs between his legs, hard and leaking. He looks remarkably handsome, swathed in the light, skin awash with warmth. 

If he's nervous, nothing in the way he looks at her suggests anything other than his eagerness to have her. His eyes are round and curious, lips curved in a small smile.

Before Astarion can ask if she's still certain about proceeding, Ysera places her hands on either side of his ass and delicately spreads him open. He arches his back beautifully, as if on instinct, breath hitching as she kneads his flesh between her palms and gives him a gentle smack with her hand. Astarion shakes his hips to taunt her, but he gets more than he bargained for when she nips him playfully, leaving the impression of her teeth in his skin.

“Why, you cheeky little –”

“I'm sorry, would you prefer my mouth somewhere else?” Ysera asks. “Perhaps this will be more to your liking.” 

She bends to flick her tongue against his hole, swirling it experimentally. Astarion groans wantonly at the first pass of her tongue, warm and wet as she laves it against his sensitive rim. Encouraged by his reaction, Ysera continues to tease him with alternating pressure, using the tip and the flat of her tongue to coax more breathy moans from him. She loves the way he convulses beneath her, completely at her mercy. 

It's not about having power over him, but the ability to make him gasp and plead for more as he forgets anything that isn't her, her, her. Nothing matters now but his pleasure.

“Ysera, darling,” he pants, fists bunched in the sheets. It feels good, better even than he had expected it would. Has she done this before? When she presses her tongue against the tight ring of muscle, his hips buck and he flutters open for her, teeth clenched as he begins to tremble. She uses the opportunity to slip her tongue inside, exploring and tasting him. A low groan rumbles in her throat as she feels his cock jump when she sweeps over a particularly sensitive place. She does it again, and Astarion trembles like brittle a leaf in the wind.

They both know they will be doing this again – often, if Astarion has any say in the matter.

“Please,” Astarion whimpers. His voice is small. Needy. Desperate in a way she's never heard him before. “I need you. Inside.”

Ysera releases him, gathering the arousal between her slick folds and spreading it over her cock, shuddering at the sensation that rips through her body. She adjusts herself behind Astarion, opening him to her once again as she presses the tip of her hard length against his rim and pushes forward. 

He's tighter than she expected, so she moves slowly, pulling out and pushing back in as she works him open with shallow thrusts. But she's slick enough, and whatever pain he feels is quickly overwhelmed by the pleasure and the newness of her inside of him. It's been far, far too long since he's been in this position. Astarion's walls clamp down around her cock and they both let out a strangled cry, but when Ysera stops moving Astarion begs her to continue.

“My love,” he struggles through gritted teeth. “Don't stop. I need more of you.” Ysera shushes him and slips a hand into his hair, stroking softly. 

“It's all right, Astarion. I'll take care of you. I promise.”

It takes a moment, but once she's fully seated inside him, Astarion exhales a long, drawn-out breath and flexes his fingers. “Ahhh, hold on,” he says, wiggling his hips to adjust around her. “Gods, you feel so good. So, so good. Remind me again why we waited so long to try this?”

“A mistake I am regretting with every passing second,” she admits, huffing a laugh. “You feel good, too.” It takes more effort than she would have initially thought to fight the urge to snap her hips forward and bury herself inside him with quick, needy thrusts. Is this what she feels like when he's inside her? Gods. It's no wonder he often struggles to hold himself back.

“I'm ready,” Astarion says after a time, looking at her over his shoulder. He sounds as though he's about to start begging her for more again, and as much as she would love to hear it, neither of them are in the mood for teasing. Ysera pulls out of him almost completely before rolling her hips forward, and when she glides against his walls with little resistance there's nothing more holding her back.

Hands bracketed on his hips, Ysera surges forward, plunging into him with quick, rough thrusts. His ass bounces every time their bodies collide, and she pushes him into the mattress. Astarion immediately begins to whimper with need, face pressed into the sheets as he loses the will to hold himself up any longer. His arms go slack and he sinks down onto his stomach, balling his fists in the sheets as he gives himself over to pleasure.

“Yes,” he mumbles, voice slurred. “Yes, ‘Sera, yes, yes, feels so – oh …!”

She's never heard him so incoherent before, fuck-drunk, wonderfully pliant beneath her hands, and absolutely breathtaking. His mouth hangs open, revealing his fangs, his eyes straining as he struggles to look at her. There aren't enough words in any language to do justice to the brilliant shades of ruby and carmine she sees reflected there. Ysera commits the image to memory, determined to remember every single second she has him beneath her.

The sunlight is warm on Astarion's skin, but its heat pales in comparison to the raging inferno growing inside him, the way Ysera's hands leave a path of searing heat down the curve of his spine. Her hands linger on his hips when she reaches them again, struggling to hold onto his sweat-slicked body as she thrusts and thrusts and thrusts. She is both gentle and rough at the same time, reducing him to a babbling mess as he tries to tell her how wonderful she is. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows the words don't quite come out right, but she smiles at him anyway.

Ysera's muscles ache with a delicious soreness, and as it becomes increasingly difficult to hold him up, her thrusts begin to falter and her rhythm breaks.

“Astarion,” she pants, sweat beading on her forehead and dripping into the hollow of her throat. “I want… to see your face, want to see you when you come.”

“Yes,” he answers immediately, almost as if he was anticipating the question. “Anything, anything. Oh, please, make me come.”

Ysera pulls her cock out of him just as long as it takes to help him roll over onto his back, shoving a pillow beneath his hips to prop him up. He's much easier to manage this way, some of her waning strength returning as she takes in the sight of him: hair disheveled, mouth agape, and utterly ruined. His cock hangs heavy against his thigh, flushed pink and weeping.

Hooking her hands under his bent knees and pressing his legs back towards his chest, she wastes no time folding him in half and slipping back inside his slick hole, pounding into him with enough force to tear a keening whine from his throat. She watches the way his expression changes with each roll of her hips, his jaw falling slack before clenching again when she hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside of him. Memorizing the angle, she does it again and again, coaxing a series of broken, strangled cries from his lips.

He tries so hard to speak, but the words fall through his brain like water through a sieve. Within seconds he can no longer recall what it was he was even going to say or why it was important in the first place. It feels so good to give himself to her like this, to let her dictate his pleasure. He doesn't need to think – he only needs to feel . And by the gods, does he feel. Every caress of her hands on his skin, every inch of her cock as she thrusts inside him; every sweet nothing she murmurs to encourage him – he's already madly in love with her, but if he could fall for her all over again this would be the moment.

Astarion’s mouth falls open with a guttural moan when she lets go of one of his legs to wrap a hand around his neglected cock, slick with so much precome that she finds an easy rhythm, pumping him in time with each of her punishing thrusts. She works him diligently closer to the edge, pride surging through her when she notices the telltale signs of his impending climax. His thighs quake and his hips jerk every so often, the promise of an earth-shattering orgasm so close on the horizon.

Astarion wrenches his eyes open to find Ysera leaning over him, her face almost close enough to kiss. His body feels too light and too heavy all at once, floating in some nebulous void. But he somehow manages to reach out to cup her cheek, his quiet moans of “ah, ah, ah…” tickling her skin as his cool breath ghosts across her face. He loses himself in her golden eyes, the way she looks at him enough to make his heart ache. If it still beat, it would be racing.

Hells, he swears it just might be.

“That's it,” Ysera encourages him, her voice wavering as his walls pulse and contract tightly around her cock. “You're close, aren't you?” Astarion breathes something that sounds like “yes,” and she bends down to kiss him. The kiss is slow and purposeful, tender where the rest of her is rough and primal. Her lips coax his mouth open and he kisses her back, whining in protest the moment she pulls away.

“You've been so good for me, Astarion,” she murmurs in his ear, borrowing the same words that have unraveled her on so many occasions. Watching the effect it has on him is intoxicating; how he whimpers and writhes, hips bucking as he fucks desperately into her hand.

“You can come now, it's okay. I've got you.”

Yes. Yes, he can, he can and he will, he just needs her to –

His vision goes blank as white-hot pleasure rips through his body and he comes harder than he ever has before, painting her hand and his stomach with thick ropes of white. The sheer force of his orgasm is too much for her to bear, her hips stuttering violently as her toes curl and she comes just as hard for him. The last thread of her concentration on the spell snaps like a taut bowstring and Astarion feels suddenly empty as her cock blinks out of existence, mourning the loss of her. Ysera tumbles forward and collapses onto his chest, panting heavily and breathing in the scent of him.

Astarion folds his arms around her with what strength he has left and holds her against his chest. His body is so warm, and she melts into his embrace. Neither of them have enough energy to speak. Ysera props herself up on an elbow after a while, the curtain of her hair falling over her shoulder as she looks down at him. She smiles fondly before rubbing her nose against his. Astarion sighs, satisfied and thoroughly pleased with the outcome of their little experiment.

What feels like several hours later, the bedchamber creaks and groans as the walls begin to shake, rousing them both from their sleep. Ysera lifts her head groggily, wincing as her limbs protest her sudden movements. The same blinding light that transported them here engulfs the room, and the next time they open their eyes they're standing inside the abandoned tower as if they'd been there all along, the book still clasped between Ysera's open hands.

Ysera flicks her gaze questioningly to Astarion, but the soreness of their muscles and the weary sort of exhaustion they both feel confirms that whatever happened was most certainly more than a very vivid hallucination. Beneath their names on the final page, the book has written for itself a rather detailed passage about their exploits, and Ysera closes it with as much force as she can muster before throwing it clear across the room. Her cheeks burn a bright pink. The only thing that had stopped her from ripping out the page was the thought that a book powerful enough to transport them to an alternate reality might not take too kindly to being defaced, and she's not keen on finding out what else it might be capable of.

“We should go before anything else happens,” she says in a clipped tone, spinning on her heel and marching towards the nearest exit. Astarion's hand shoots out to grab her by the wrist, and when he pulls her back and convinces her to look at him, she finds a wolfish grin has overtaken his face.

“Oh no,” he purrs, slipping his arms around her back and caging her against his body. “Not so fast. This little library of Gale's you mentioned before… does he know you've been browsing those sorts of books?”

Ysera blanches, and the way her heart skips a beat gives her away immediately. “I thought as much,” Astarion says conspiratorially. “I'll tell you what, my dear: show me the other little tricks you've learned, and I promise your secret stays with me.”

Even after she twists out of his arms and storms off down the stairs to hide her embarrassment, his laughter still rings in her ears.

[mister-lucky-bunny]

So uh my fort got invaded by a huge wave of undead and necromancer experiments. This is about a year after their first siege, who wiped out all of our starting party and migrant wave, save for two dwarves. Even after gaining more notoriety by way of migrants and visitors to our tavern, we soon learned that the dead is not one to be toyed with.

our poor last dwarf standing, Mafol. He became expedition leader as his comrades died, so he ran to the broker’s office and locked the doors behind him. After the adrenaline wore off, he succumbed to an injury that left him unable to walk or even move.

as the undead took over the fortress, more and more naive, innocent poets and performers showed up, heading interesting things of our tavern. they didn’t last long. before long, Mafol died of dehydration and hunger, and Whiskeyskin, the Farm of Meat is no more

[whiskeyskin]

Different kind of Intimacy

Premise: After Astarion's confession at Moonrise, you decide that your usual style of feeding just won't cut it any more.

• Astarion x gn!Tav • Mild rating •

Reader POV, fluff, conversation about boundaries set, sweetness, understanding, softness, Astarion feeding, despite female in the inspo picture no mention of gender, love, security, intimacy, doped out Astarion

2.3k words

Shoutout to @ladyofthecreed for this beautiful piece of art for @aevallare! How stunning is it? 🥹💜 And thanks to @crepsley for the tag 🙌

This is a little different than my usual smutty style but I saw this picture and felt inspired to write something a little softer for our boy ☺️

Just saw this has over 1k notes 🥹 Thank you all, my darlings! 😚✨

•°•°•

"You can feed on me tonight, if you'd like." You offered with a smile.

"I was so hoping you'd say that." He lilted back to you.

You took a breath to speak again and stopped.

"Yes, my sweet. What is it?" He questioned, with a curious tilt of his head.

After the incident with the Drow at Moonrise yesterday, Astarion had confessed some deep feelings and troubles he'd had.

After he'd admitted his growing feelings for you, despite it starting out as a manipulation, he'd stated very plainly that he didn't want anyone to think of him in terms of sex but that he still wanted to be with you.

So, you'd suggested that you'd become friends first, instead of lovers. That you would still be together but wouldn't have sex until he was ready, if he ever would be.

He'd obviously joked and tried to lessen the mood with a flippant remark but you'd learned him well enough to see he was appreciative of the gesture.

You'd pulled him into a hug, and after his inital shock, he'd held on so tightly he had been reluctant to let go.

He'd offered his hand to hold yours and a silent bond was made between you.

You'd been thinking on this development between you this last day since your conversation together. Pondering on ways to make him more comfortable, to give him more autonomy within the relationship.

Astarion had been very sweet and attentive throughout the day. Like something had settled within him, like something had slotted into place.

He'd stuck very close by you, while carefully adventuring through the perilous Shadowlands.

He'd also spotted something that would be valuable to you in a fight and gifted it to you; you didn't ask how he'd gotten it, even though you could probably guess.

During battle he'd taken a more protective and defensive role around you, instead of stealthy and offensive.

Several times throughout the day, he had slid his hand within yours and lightly squeezed - completely unprompted - just to feel the warmth of your skin.

"I've been thinking, about what you said last night, about not thinking of you in terms of sex," you started, his face pulled into an unsure expression, "It's nothing bad, it's that I've been thinking about how you feed. It's quite, sexually charged. Especially the way you feed. It's urgent and rough and-"

And now, it was time to settle down for the night, he'd dragged his bedroll to rest next to you. Producing a small potion from his pack, you assumed he was probably already hungry and needed to feed, hence your invitation, but you needed to discuss this first.

"-Rough? I thought I was being gentle. You've not said anything since that first night. I-" He sounded hurt, afraid he'd been causing you pain. You hushed his worries.

"That's not what I meant, I'm not making an issue of it, I promise. It's not something to be sorry for, it hasn't bothered me until now. I thought it was all part and parcel of the experience; foreplay, if you will?" You shrugged.

"I mean, you'd feed, get hard and then we'd usually fuck. But now I believe we need to re-think our approach." You explained further.

"This is real, just because it's not a sexual relationship, doesn't mean it's not real." You smiled, reassuring his doubts. He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. Your heart squeezed as his cool cheek pressed further into the warmth.

"It's not that having sex wasn't out of desire for you. It's-it's complicated to explain," he signed with a furrowed brow, "I told you, that it's not that I'm not attracted to you, trust me," he smiled wickedly, you shook your head and went to speak but he cut across you to continue.

"You are wholly different to ones I've seduced before. This was of my own voilition, for one - although out of necessity as transactional protection but - things have changed. I've changed. You've made me see what I'm capable of. You've.." he paused, swallowing and looking around the vicinity for the right words.

"You've encouraged me. Had faith in me. Shown me kindness I've not felt in two centuries. I care for you in a way I thought impossible, but I don't know how to be with someone, without reliving the past.. But I desperately want this to be real, truly real." His claret eyes bore into yours, pleading and sad. You slowly raised your hand to cup the side of this face.

"The act of a vampire feeding on someone has been made inherently sexual. It's been fetishised, and so in turn, has the whole vampire thing. Which works to the vamp's advantage. I can't blame the people for it. Being bitten, being fed on is an intoxicating experience." You couldn't help but shudder at the memories of you both pressed together.

"For me too," He breathed, his neck tensing, "The feeling of feeding has no match."

You smiled softly and sighed, "Like you said, 'There's nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire'." You both pursed your lips in bitter resignation.

"So, to remedy this, we need to unsexualise it going forward," you continued, "Before feeding was all teeth and rubbing up against each other like animals. Now, it's going to be slow and intimate. Not sexual intimacy, true intimacy." You flattened you palm to your heart, to help illustrate your point to him.

"It'll be different to the enemies you drain on the road, or in battle. It's you and me, and that's special. We need to make it special." You smoothed the cool touch of his cheek under your thumb.

He swallowed and sat up, intrigued, "What did you have in mind, my dear?"

You certainly had had some ideas.

"Well, you've tried both of the 'best' places to feed from; the jugular and the femoral," you announced, gesturing to your neck and inner thigh, "But I was thinking of the wrist? It's a pretty neutral place to feed from."

"Sounds reasonable. It's certainly a slower feed than the neck, or thigh." He agreed with a head tilt, "Although they are an awful lot of fun." He said through tilted gaze and a dangerous grin, his hand gliding up your thigh to caress it.

Your stomach flipped from habit, but you squashed it down.

"Stop it," you chastised him with a gentle nose boop. He scrunched his face and let out a small, high chuckle. His hand relented to your knee, thumbing the seam where he'd stitched a hole for you.

"Feeding will be more about taking the time to connect with each other, without sex. It'll be slow, patient.. calming." You let out a long, cleansing breath and blinked slowly, to emphasise the point.

"Very well, then. Henceforth, I shall drink from your wrist when you're resting." He gave a tilted nod.

"Um, no. I was going to suggest feeding before sleep. I'd like to be present with you. Truly present with you. Not groggy from sleep, or blissed from sex. I'd like to be with you."

He looked taken aback, but interested, "Alright then.. feeding before rest," he said, testing the idea on his tongue. He seemed to measure it acceptable before asking, "Could I.. request something of you.. while I feed?" He asked, his words measured.

"Of course, darling." You answered enthusiastically, glad for his input.

"Would you.. play with my hair?" He requested, a little sheepishly, "I-I find it. It's not a sexual thing, before I always hated it but.. when you do it-it's.. comforting to me. I-I don't know why."

Your heart swelled and your eyes began to gently fill at the surprisingly sweet request.

"Of course, I will." You smiled, blinking back unexpected tears.

Astarion smiled back and took a faux breath and huffed it out in expectation.

"So, shall we, my dear?" He flourished a hand for you to lie down.

"We shall," you nodded, "How do you wish to do this?"

"Lying down would be fine." He suggested.

"If that's what you'd like." You began unfolding your leg from the crossed position to stretch it before laying down.

"Wait.." he stopped, then looked up through curious eyes, "What about this?" He asked, as he gently laid the side of his head down on your thigh.

You beamed, "That's nice.. wait-" You scooched a little more, "Lay on your back."

He did as he was told and shuffled around so the back of his head lay fully on the cushioning meat of your crossed leg, the other extended alongside his body.

You gazed down at him laying contentedly in your lap, "How's that?" You asked.

He manoeuvred himself to rest more squarely, testing the feeling, which he seemed to agree with.

"Comfortable."

"Which wrist?" You offered both in the air.

"Wrap your arms around, and I'll feed from your non-dominant one."

You leaned down more, rounding your spine so you weren't sat so upright. You cradled his head with your arms and let your wrists hang loose.

Astarion took your hand and wriggled himself within your arm's embrace, then looked up and smiled at you. Your own broadened across your face.

"Is this alright?"

He nodded, paused then crooked a finger at you.

You bent down a little more and he brought his fingers to tenderly grasp your chin and pulled you in for a delicate kiss, barely anything in comparison to others you had, but filled with a warmth and softness that hadn't been there before.

"Thank you." He breathed, "For thinking of this, for respecting my wishes."

The breath was stolen from your lungs and your chest ached. You couldn't deny it any longer. You were in love with him.

You didn't reply, you simply pressed a kiss to his forehead, "Eat up."

He paused again, looking like he was about to say something but decided against it. He took your hand and carefully pulled up the sleeve, before bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply.

This was a little ritual he liked to do, like a fine wine; you have to smell the bouquet.

He chastely pecked several times at the thin blue lines on your inner wrist, before slowly sinking his fangs and drinking deeply.

The pain, while still present, was surprisingly minimal. Much less sharp than his usual snapping bite down on your neck, or inner thigh.

You rest your other arm on his chest, but quickly his other hand grasped your hand and placed it on his hair.

You grinned to yourself, "My mistake, sorry dear." You admonished yourself, giggling, while beginning to weave your fingers into his loose curls.

Astarion mumbled against your skin, something sassy no doubt, but it was hushed by the sensation of his hair being twisted between your deft fingers.

He moaned into your wrist but it wasn't with reverent pleasure, it was in contentment.. ease..

You stared down at the beautiful pale Elf laying in your lap, feeding gently on your life essence. His ears were lightly wiggling as he drank, latched onto skin.

You stifled a laugh, he was like a kitten nursing milk. It was too adorable. Of course, you'd never seen this angle to witness it before. It was beyond endearing.

He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed, slowly drinking his fill of your blood. His body language relaxed, instead of poised to pounce. The pace of his pulls against your wrist laboured and suckling.

Seeing him like this, calm and steady, instead of scared and jittering, unlocked a compartment of your heart you'd fervently kept closed off from the world.

Gods, you loved him.

You loved him so much you ached.

Your heart physically panged to see him so blissfully unbothered and relaxed.

You smoothed his locks like petting a contented animal. You brushed his hair out of his face, and twirled it between your fingers, then wove fingertips under the length, to massage the base of his skull.

Each movement illiciting a gratified sigh, his body sinking lower and lower into your lap.

After a while, your head started to feel woozy and your extremities were starting to go cold and numb.

"Astarion?" You whispered, gently rubbing your hand on his chest and tapping twice with your peace fingers, "That's enough, love."

He stirred, dazed from feeding. He clamped his two fingers on the puncture marks, as you reached for the healing potion from his pack to pour over them. A small drizzle and the marks were healed.

You took a steading breath and swigged the rest down to help with restoration of blood before a spell from Shadowheart in the morning.

Stoppering the empty bottle and placing it on the ground, Astarion's weight still lay heavy on your lap.

His lips and teeth dyed the colour of you, as he smiled dopily, eyes remaining closed.

You sat with him in the moment, returning to weave his white curls between your fingers. The vague warmth of your blood coarsing through him transferring back to you through skin contact.

Astarion let out a serene and easy sigh, his eyes heavy as he tried to open them.

"That felt.. very different." He whispered, almost like he was breathless.

You kissed your fingers that waited on his chest and pressed them to his temple. He kissed the air back at you, body still heavy and exhausted.

"I don't know how to describe it. My body feels heavy, but light.."

The light pulse of your blood through his dead veins was present again under the pads of your fingers.

"I assume this new feeding technique is a success then, dove?" You inquired, keeping your voice low.

Astarion swallowed thickly, the stain of blood still on his teeth. He licked his lips lethargicly, "Most certainly. I feel.. completely.. utterly.. totally.."

"I hope the end of this sentence is a good one." You teased at his lack of composure.

He let out a sharp exhale of amusement through his nose, "It is.." he muttered.

You smoothed the line of his jaw, careful to not touch his sensitive ears. You smiled at the recent memory of them twitching as he fed.

"Did you know your ears wiggle up and down when you feed?" You asked in soft merriment.

"I did not.." he replied, flexing his eyebrows slowly.

"It's very cute."

"I am not cute." He tried to exert, with not much conviction, "I am a terrible creature of the night, feeding on helpless victims. I am a monster. I am not cute." He posited in feigned outrage.

You gazed down at the soft, tortured, beautiful soul in front of you and quickly blinked back the tears that swelled.

"No, you're not my love.. and I promise one day you'll see yourself the way I see you." You beamed at him.

Astarion squeezed your had three times, you repeat it back. You take a shaking breath in and blow it out, smiling.

A different kind of intimacy.

•°•°•

Yo.. down here.. fancy some more? 👀

[wild3rpeople]

Do pictures from Lord of the rings a musical tale count? If they do, I feel safe

If those don't count its a Astarion background for my phone and my safety is questionable. Alot happens in the game and I failed the dice rolls and my first Tav got drained 🤣

No pressure tags @saintsandsorcery @tragedybunny @dinosaurwithablog @whiskeyskin

You’re stuck in a room with the last character in your gallery. How safe are you?

Thanks for tagging me @artsy-girl-76 @schnarfer @oonajaeadira @jeewrites (I’m so sorry if I missed anyone!)

Does this guy count?

YOU GUYS. It told me the gif was “too big”…. I’m not safe AT ALL 😅

Tagging @burntheedges @grogusmum @perfectly-imperfect-me23 @ishabull @davnittbraes

[spyvstailor]

whiskeyskin replied to your post “Dear readers and reviewers of my Graveyard Dirt & Salt series”

Oh! Please don't delete it! Just put an AN at the end of the last chapter. Pretty please don't delete it!

Nobody read's author's note, are you kidding me? I really think people have grown tired of it. I really shouldn't have even started the fourth, it didn't feel right. I felt like I was writing it for people who wanted another, but now...I don't know. I'm feeling a lack of interest. My original writing is suffering, I'm missing out on writing stuff for other fandoms.