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pursuitseternal · 5 months

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“Virgin Blood:” Spawn Astarion x F!Reader, nsfw Loss of Innocence Spice for you, darlings…

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.6K Loss of virginity

Summary: You’re eager to meet your rogue in the woods, and you can think of no better person to take your innocence than your Vampire Rogue… And doesn’t he just cherish the idea… eager to taste your virgin blood.

Act 1 Romance Retold…

CW: loss of virginity, first time, Praise kink, Astarion takes his time, virginity kink, gentle sex, Astarion more than happy to make you feel all the more beholding to him…

For you, Anonymous sweet thing in my ask box 💞

Ao3 link | Astarion fic Master List

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“I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”

Gods, you hope so too. Your body is on fire, and not just from the battlelust of saving lives.

It is because of him.

His little flirtations that have eroded you, his sweet words and greetings that fill your ear each day. The way his crimson eyes already devour you, as if he can’t get his full of your looks.

And then he bit you.

So intimate and foreign.

And new.

Each time now, your body sings when he feeds, and not just because you can feel your blood dripping down his throat and making him stronger.

You feel seen. Desired. Wanted. He hungers for you and seeks you out. Gods, as if you hadn’t been looking for one to do that for you since you came of age.

Something stirs in your body when you are near him, something wild and untamed. Waiting to be released. Your kind never told you what it was between two lovers, only the lessons you found in nature, the rutting seasons of the earth. That was all you knew of… sex.

But to hear him beckoning you, offering you passion like none other, somewhere quiet for just you and him.

Your body aches… burning. Singing. The blood in your veins pumping wildly. You want so badly to be touched and tasted. But mostly, wanting to be seen.

Wanting him to see more of you. All of you.

So, as the party begins to quiet, you watch your Rogue snatch up some blankets and wine, throwing you a knowing glance that makes your stomach twist and leap.

Gods, he thinks of everything doesn’t he?

Others begin to make their way to sleep, but you step into the woods. Your mind firmly set to give him another gift, and this time, you’re humming in your veins, your nerves crying to be touched. Because you want him to receive this, knowing just how much you will undoubtedly receive in return.

Your footsteps rustle softly in the leaves along the path. You follow that pull in your belly, knowing this is the way he wandered. Knowing that he is close…

That Astarion waits for you.

You pass through the trees, drawing to a stop the moment you see him. Gods, already his pale chest on display. Your mouth waters, your skin grows hot, even though you don’t completely know why.

“There you are,” he purrs, striding to close the distance between you. That handsome face is bright with his own intention. “I’ve been waiting…”

He draws still, a breath away from your body, “…waiting since the moment I saw you, waiting to have you…”

You look into that face, the way he just wants you, pouring his desire out over you, and you are ready to drown in it. “And I want you to have me,” you murmur, a coy, nervous smile dancing on your lips. Hells, you probably look like some innocent little thing. “I want you to have me as no one else has; Astarion…”

“Oh, you sweet little pet,” he croons, his face broadening into a smirk so soft, your stomach quivers. “Do you mean…”

“Yes,” you feel your cheeks hot under that lurid, crimson gaze. “I have never been…”

“Taken?” He offers. “Deflowered?” he adds, a deepening to his grin. “Fucked?”

Oh, it’s not that he’s a vampire spawn that makes him gaze at you with a voracious look in his eyes. It only makes you blush bright red and hot in reply.

“I am… touched to be offered such a gift,” he continues in that thick, honeyed voice, clasping your hands both in his. As he raises them to his lips, you are pulled even closer. Your body tingling to feel his frame, his magnificent form, just barely brushing you. “I am a bit surprised, given how forward you are… how wayward…”

“Perhaps it’s just a good fit, you and I…” you force your voice to lilt, keeping your eyes soft as you meet that insatiable stare. Your heart leaps as he licks his lips, making your hand reach to trace over his chest.

“Mmm, I will make certain it is. This gift, to be the first to know your body… it is one I will cherish… and I’ll make absolute certain you will cherish it too, darling,” his smile is breathtaking, almost as much as the way his own fingers wrap tenderly around your cheek, drawing your face into his so closely, his breath becomes your own.

Slowly he bears his teeth, his gaze raking down your neck into the v cut of your tunic. “Tell me, darling, how long have you been dreaming of this with me, fantasizing our time together as you pleasure yourself…”

Your brow quirks as you struggle to find the meaning of such a sensuous phrase.

“Oh…” he croons, the caressing touch of his hands cresting over your shoulders and drawing down your back. Your confusion ignites a new level of anticipation in him, you can see it twisting over those immaculate, pale features. Then he pulls you flush against him. “You will enjoy tonight, I am sure of it. I will too, there is nothing sweeter, I’m sure, than your first blood, your virgin blood…”

You melt at his words, trembling even before his kiss falls to consume your lips. His fingers are so deft, dexterous and featherlight as they tug the rough linen of your shirt up your body. Bunching it. Letting the night air kiss your skin little by little.

And all the while, his lips work smoothly on yours. Nothing so fast and quick as his bites. No, this is deliberate, controlled. A rhythmic dance that traps you against him and draws you closer.

Before you know it, he breaks from that caress to pull your shirt off completely. You gasp, cheeks hot as he looks you over, the gleam in his eye predacious as he scans your breasts, your skin, drawing his gaze to the band of your breeches.

Those eager lips begin to stray from your mouth, allowing you to finally gasp in the free air. But it’s still a fight, the way your body trembles as he kisses the lingering bite marks on your neck from the other night… drifting even lower to the edge of your collarbone, his breath so cool on your hot and flushed skin.

A moan escapes you, a noise you had never made before. And it makes the vampire chuckle, his lips creeping even lower as he cranes his head. His hands catching your breasts, one in each persistent palm. He massages them, fingertips sweeping over your straining nipples.

Those lips and that tongue replace one set of dexterous fingers, making the same sounds issue from your throat again. Louder. Your body wriggling as it catches on fire, like magma seeping from the earth, it boils in your veins and pools between your thighs.

He’s suckling on you, your hands shaking as you long for them to touch him too, running them into his hair. With a sharp breath, he releases one breast only to rub his tongue through the valley of your chest to trap the other one. Worshiping it with equal zeal.

Gods, you feel strange beneath your navel. Full and hot and swollen. And then, another sensation hits you as you shift on your toes.

You’re… wet. Your breeches are soaked. And it makes you shift again, more uncertain.

“You feel it, can’t you?” he raps as he lifts his head, raising to his full height to look down at you. “The way your body has awoken. You stir, and crave something.” The corner of his mouth quirks just once. “Poor little sweet thing, I promise you, you’ll like what’s coming. It’ll make it all feel better.”

Those fingers, so quick and light, pull the laces of your breeches apart before you even know what’s happening. “May I?” he whispers, running two fingers up the inside of your thigh. “You’ll need these removed, you know…”

You nod vigorously, a giggle in your throat as he grins, that glint of his teeth just peeking from his lips. But he doesn’t pull the fabric from your skin. No, he slides those fingers harder into the soft buckskin over your thighs. Then, he steals their pressure between your legs. His brows canting to feel you where you’re soaked. “My, my…” he purrs, “this will be most enjoyable. Your body already knows just what to do,” his lips twitch as he presses them against your lips again, “and so do I.”

Boldness sweeps through you, assured that you have chosen well. He will make this blissful. Make you feel like the sweet treasure you are to him.

Agonizingly slow, he strokes you there, those fingers so eager for action in the field turn all their talents now to teasing your body. You turn away, unsure as he caresses where you’re wet.

“Don’t be shy with me, darling,” he whispers, “you’re doing so wonderfully, you know.” Those hands pull your breeches down, letting them settle at your ankles. “Here,” he breathes as he grabs your hand where it still presses on the smooth coolness of his chest. “You’ll let me show you, won’t you?”

With how silken, how assured and pleased he sounds, you can’t manage a breath in reply. Only a nod and a moan as those damp fingers take your hand. He molds you to his grasp, guiding your fingers into your own arousal. It’s slippery, hot… and then your hands now slip between your folds…

You moan so loudly, your thighs shaking as he presses your fingers deeper into you.

“There now,” he purrs, lips caressing against the curve of your ear. “So wet and slick, you’re a wonder, my sweet little virgin. Your body’s already eager for me, and you don’t even know it yet.”

“Please,” you raps, pulling your hands back towards the apex of your thighs. “Show me.”

“I’ll do so much more than that, darling…”

It’s so quick, the way he’s picked you up in his arms to lay you down in the soft grass. In an instant, he’s shuffled off your breeches, the air wafting over your body, completely bared and entirely hot despite the little breezes of night.

Astarion draws his body to cover yours, so slowly, controlled, as if he plans every little graze of his skin across yours. “Sweet little thing,” he croons as he traps your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “You’re all mine aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, the feeling of his body lowering all its weight on you, sending shivers down your spine and sparks over your vision. “All yours…” you moan between his full and twitching lips.

“I do so love the sound of that, darling…” With one last little peck on your lips, he begins caressing your body, kissing and sucking your breasts once more before trailing down over your belly. It rises and falls with every heaving, nervous breath you take. “Don’t you worry,” he whispers, “the more you give in to how I’ll make you feel, the more delicious this will be.” He catches your hand again in his to slink it back where you are on absolute fire. That slick between your legs. “Now, close your eyes, and just touch…”

He brings your hands to your folds, dipping your fingertips within. So wet and soft and hot, swollen you can tell, as he draws your fingers at the crest of your folds. “There,” he presses, the little nub beneath your touch so hard, the contact instantly making your muscles clench and burn. “Should the need arise as you think of me, as you remember tonight, as you wait eagerly for the next time you come to my bed… you can touch yourself here for your own pleasure, darling…”

Your body takes over, the rhythmic tracing of his fingers guiding yours… it’s sorcery. Magic. Like fire and ice in your veins as he circles your fingers and his over that little hard bud. You flutter your eyes open, watching as he stares at you, his gaze catching yours with all the hunger and pride and desire you could wish to see. Then, those perfect lips twitch in a mischievous smirk. Already crouching between your legs, he’s licking his lips, lowering his head towards your body as his fingers still tug at you unrelentingly.

So cool and wet, you feel his tongue lapping along with your fingers. Your hips buck out of your control, muscles clenching as one possessed, but it is not in pain. It is flame and ruin and ecstasy that flood along your muscles. Spurred on by his kissing and sucking and lapping between your thighs.

That feeling crashes through you, blinding you as your back arches, your scream tearing from your throat as you writhe and spasm. Your hand goes limp between your legs as you pant.

With a laugh, he places a kiss on your soaking palm before resting it tenderly on your panting belly. His tongue laps up your seam, you can feel the flush of that slick cooling in the breeze and drying on your skin. “Oh my sweet,” he rasps, glancing from between your thighs. “You are doing so well, such pleasure for your first time,” he giggles, “don’t let it go to your head. The best is yet to come…”

You mewl, his two dexterous fingers finding their way inside you now, playing in and out. Instantly, that need reignites, consuming your flesh. Your hands reach for him… for any part of him. You find his arm, his own muscles bunched and bulging as you feel him working inside you. You feel him shifting lower, kissing the sticky skin of your inner thigh, his hand slipping another long finger inside your walls, making your muscles burn as they stretch. “Shhh,” he soothes as you groan and pant and squirm at the pressure. “You’re such a good girl, so wet and eager, this will be delicious. I doubt you will even bleed once I’m inside you…”

He chuckles, watching your body, your eyes wide and wild as that wave begins to wash over you again… the heat, the throes of pleasure you now realize come from his touch. And then he slips his thumb back over that aching little nub again.

“Gods, Astarion,” you keen, your voice rough as you tear apart. Those fingers inside you… your whole body clenches on them, the pressure, the fullness sending you careening into your climax even harder this time. Breathless, you can only make little incoherent sounds, a little louder as he insists on still pumping his touch inside you even as you come.

“Breathe, my sweet,” he smiles, “you’re going to do wonderfully.”

The chill of his touch, his whole body leaves you for a moment. But you can’t look, can’t even open your eyes as you still drift down from your pleasure.

You feel stretched and limp and warm… the gentle embrace of bliss and pleasure you had heard ballads about. You rise up on your arms, and for a moment, that warm comfort runs cold in your veins.

You see him. Naked. Breeches removed as he strokes his cock in his hand. Looking down at you where he stands. Those crimson eyes almost glow in the moonlight. But you barely glance into his face, knowing it’s hungry and needy and salacious.

No, your eyes are mesmerized by his length, so much longer than you had thought, erect and pale. You watch it twitch as he rubs himself slowly. “Shhh,” he soothes from above you, “come here, my darling. I promise you it will only hurt a bit…”

You sweep your legs beneath you, kneeling before him. His fingers caress your face. He takes a deep breath, his belly filling as his cock twitches to see you so close. “Touch me,” he whispers the instruction, your hands joining his as you feel him. So hard, smooth skin stretched over something so unyielding. Etched with pale veins that darken slightly beneath his already pale skin… you run your fingers over it as his own hand stills near its base.

Sweeping your thumb over that thick, blunted head, you make him groan. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with lust in his throat. “Soon, my pet, I’ll teach you to pleasure me in return, but tonight…” he breathes heavily, dropping to his knees with you, “tonight is about your pleasure, your deflowering as I claim your innocence my sweet.” His lips twitch, “which I am most eager to do… a gift I am forever thankful for…”

His eyes glint with intent, possession and pride, his mouth descending to capture yours again. Those powerful arms hug you tightly to his chest, that hardened cock prodding into your belly, twitching each time your mouth moves with the rhythm of his kiss.

Slowly, he lays you back into the grass, those arms that have snapped your enemies in half cradling you gently against his body. One hand slides between you, ghosting that chilling touch between your thighs, the other presses your cheek in his palm, keeping your lips trapped against his.

Then, you feel it, something thicker and harder pressing into that still molten slick between your legs. Inch by inch, he enters you, the roll of his hips against yours almost imperceptible. “Shh,” he hushes you, another caress of those full lips against yours. “You’re so good, darling…”

A bit more, your muscles burn as he slides, that slick coating him, letting his cock inside you little by little. You groan, your muscles clenching at the thickness. And he only laughs and shushes you again. “Easy now, darling, I promise. Those stories of virgins bleeding are only with bad lovers, but I will only ever make you bleed in other ways, other… more delicious ways….” He catches your lower lip in his fangs and bites down, a little nip as pain shoots through you. You groan… hardly noticing that in that moment, he’s sheathed himself between your thighs completely.

Buried deep in your throbbing channel.

“Hells below…” you groan, a wriggle of your hips as you feel the pressure easing. Burning and not in pain. That same sort that consumed you already, only now… all the stronger. “Astarion,” you look into his eyes, how they smile at you, narrowed and delighting.

“I told you darling,” he purrs, a slight movement of his hips, dragging that cock a bit out, a bit in as your mouth hangs open, “I told you I would make certain we are a good fit…”

You groan, not at his words, at the way he begins to thrust into you. Slowly, consistently, letting your body open to accept him. His mouth still hovers over yours, his breath filling your mouth, the taste of your blood still on your tongue and his as he catches it in his kiss.

“Gods,” he groans as your body begins that journey higher, driven by every thrust inside you, the heat multiplying, the clenching of your every muscle catching all the more on him inside you. “You tight, little, innocent thing…” he pants, “you’re going to be the ruin of me.” You feel his lips twisting, smirking against you, his breath coming heavily now too. His arms on either side of you shake, those hips, his body, driving into you faster. You wrap your legs around his waist, your own instincts taking hold, wanting him deeper, wanting more of him thrusting inside.

He groans as he slides to fill you completely, “Good girl,” he purrs his praises again into your mouth. Groans and thrusts consume you, the slide of his body on yours transports you… until you feel nothing that is not him.

It takes you, that press of his hips, that drag of his cock between your walls, you spill into that climax, the oblivion of twitching heat. Your mouth hanging open to keen. His cock pulls all the harder as your body clenches. Hitching, fucking, slamming with everything he’s got inside you, until he’s groaning too, gasping and whsipering in silken tones just how good you are… how tight and perfect….

You feel him inside you, gripped so hard, pulsing as that slick drips from inside. His hands cradle your cheek again, the full weight of his body lowering, blanketing you, pressing you into the earth. “See… wonderful…” he pants, another kiss against your lips, longer, tender. “Something to cherish between us forever…”

He slips from inside you, making you arch and groan at the release. Your thighs shake, even as he lowers to lay beside you, rolling you to lay in his arms. To rest your head in the crook of his shoulder.

A single finger traces your neck, his head lifting to look down your body beside him. “You see, sweet thing, not a drop of blood… well,” he chuckles, “not yet anyway.” Those smirking lips caress over the throbbing vein in your neck. “I would so love a drink of your not-so-virgin blood now…”

“Yes,” you tilt your head, your voice is sultry, heavy in your throat as you keep your eyes meeting his heavy-lidded gaze. “And then, can we… again?”

His brows raise, delighted, genuine surprise lifting those sharp features of his handsome face. “I would love nothing more,” he croons. “So addicted to me already are you?” A single laugh punctuates his words. “Perhaps this worked out better than I could have imagined,” he speaks, almost to himself, that devious, desirous smirk on his lips for a moment before his fangs bite into your skin.

Drawing that first, no-longer- virgin blood.

2K notes · View notes

mooshywrites · 3 months

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Making It Our Own

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Female!Tav

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - Kinda a continuation of my last fluff, slice of life kind of affair

Word Count - 3.1K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, fluff/soft dom Astarion, aftercare if you squint, multiple orgasms, biting because thats practically required with this man, overall straight degeneracy

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“How else will we make this place our own, my darling?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Why in all the god’s names, would they have the staircase here?” Astarion wondered, exasperated.

You smiled softly, looking over the slightly rickety stairs before him. They were a little in the foreground of the room, awkwardly jutting out beside the selling desk.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, my love.” You responded, kissing his cheek sweetly.

”With the amount of hard-earned gold I spent on this place, you would think someone would have at least dusted before we moved in.” He complained, dragging a finger across the desk, holding up the collection of caked dirt.

You fought the urge to scoff at the thought of Astarion actually earning any amount of money, but you contained yourself knowing he did put a fair amount of effort into having this small shop be his own.

For the entire idea of Astarion running a shop starting as a halfhearted tease, you could hardly believe you were actually standing in the place now. It had taken a few months of odd jobs, even odder quests, and… well… yes, there was some thievery involved in getting enough coin to buy the little shop on the corner of the quietest part of Baldur’s Gate. It must have been a bakery, or perhaps a tiny bed and breakfast before the two of you, because it sported a surprisingly large kitchen in the back along with four midsize rooms upstairs. Of course, if it were any of those things, it must have long long not been occupied.

“I’m sure it won’t take long to make the place exactly what you want, Astarion.” You murmured, trying to be optimistic. You looked up at your pale elf, seeing his mouth in a tight line. His eyes peering accusingly at the grime and disrepair on the first floor. Luckily, from your investigating, the upstairs level seemed to fair a bit better.

”Darling, it will take half of a century to even make it look clean” Astarion chuckled, turning his attention back down onto you. “It may be a disaster, but I do suppose it is our disaster.”

”That’s the spirit.” You grinned up at him. “Where should we start then?”

Astarion shook her head decisively, “You can start upstairs. I won’t have your pretty little hands working yourself to the bone on this mess. Or dirtying your new dress.”

Your hands idly smoothed your skirt, fingers running over the delicate gold flowers expertly embroidered across the fabric. Astarion insisted he began practicing his sewing in preparation for the shop and your clothes, of course, were his first choice of material. The simple green gown you were wearing today was covered in dainty flowering vines.

“Perhaps you’re right,” you sighed. “I can think of much better ways to ruin one of your projects than covering it in dirt.” You added, gesturing to the dress.

Astarion leaned back on the desk casually, his eyebrows raising, “What possible ways could you be talking about, pet?” He asked, his voice too sickly sweet and innocent to be anything other than a thinly veiled tease.

Well… two could play that game. You gave him a small smile, stepping forward to place your hands on his chest. You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened slightly at the movement.

“I just mean that if your hard work is to be dirtied, it better be worth it.” You shrugged.

Astarion couldn’t help but smirk, knowing your innocent attitude was as much of an act as his own. His face inched closer, voice only above a whisper now, “I can think of a few ways that would be more worth your time, love.”

“And those would be?” You almost didn’t recognize your own voice, practically breathless even with only the hint of his words.

”Oh, pet. I think you already know.” He practically purred. “How else will we make this place our own?”

You barely had time to respond before the words were swallowed by Astarion’s searing kiss. His lips molded against your own, coaxing a small muffled moan from your chest. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Your own arms wound around his neck, fingertips coming up to lace their way into his curly white locks.

”I’m afraid your beautiful dress may be sullied, yet,” Astarion murmured, pulling back for a moment, “There isn’t a surface here that is suitable enough for you to lay upon.”

”’Lay upon?’ Why would I need to do that?” You whispered, feigning ignorance.

Astarion’s hands fell to just below your butt before suddenly hooking your legs up and around him. You don’t even have time to chastise him before you’re spun around and placed on the dust covered desk.

”Astarion, my dress-!” You squeaked.

His eyes rolled in response, his hands sliding up the sides of your dress. “For god’s sake, darling, I’ll make you a new one.”

He leaned in once more, this time, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw, effectively silencing your argument. You tilted your head back, giving him better access to the crook of your neck. You sucked in a shaky breath as you felt the points of his fangs grazing feather light across the sensitive skin, goosebumps erupting on your skin and heat settling in your lower stomach. You could practically feel him smile against you at your reaction, always proud to make you putty between his hands.

His lips and teeth continued to dance down your neck, pausing for a moment on the sweet spot just above your collarbone. The movement completely distracts you from how his hands continue to sneak their way up your legs.

That is, until, you felt his fingertips drag slowly against the clothed heat between your legs.

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes meeting Astarion’s as he lifted his gaze, smirking. ”Why darling,” he purred. “Whatever did I do to deserve this silence?”

You threw him a half-hearted glare, not trusting your voice to deliver a retort in case it proved the point he was already trying to make. Instead, you pulled his face towards your own, locking him into a passionate kiss. You earned a particularly delicious groan as you gently dragged your tongue along his lower lip, silently prodding for access.

He graciously allowed your tongue in, exploring with his own. His fingers worked in tandem with his tongue, tracing feather light figure eights, seeming to be avoiding where you needed him most purposefully.

You whined into the kiss, causing the vampire to chuckle darkly, “What’s the matter, pet? Pained are we?” He teased.

”Just… touch me.” You begged, not at all embarrassed at how quickly you became desperate for him.

Luckily, the plea’s seemed to have the desired effect, a content sigh escaping you as cold finger moved your panties aside and pressed against your cunt.

”My, my.” He whispered, lips moving to catch the shell of your ear in a gentle bite. “It didn’t take long at all for you to be practically weeping for me.”

All you could do was whine as his middle finger dipped shallowly into your heat. He was right, of course, it took practically no time for him to bring you to tears with his fingers, your core clenching at just the thought of what he could do with those sinful hands.

You leaned back just enough to get a better view of him, his hair a mess from your own hands, his lips plump from your bruising kiss, his pointed gaze a shade darker than usual as he eyed you hungrily. Your chest rose and fell shakily, taking in the sight before you.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” You whispered, barely even aware the words had escaped your own thoughts.

His eyes blinked in surprise before a warm smile fell across his face, leaning in to press a surprisingly innocent kiss upon your nose. “Aren’t I just?”

You could have guessed that would have been his reaction, your elf hiding behind a veil of humor anytime he was uncomfortable with a compliment or praise. I mean, showing emotions is difficult, isn’t it? Someday, you would have to find a way to make him take the compliment. But how? Bondage? A maid outfit? Constant teasing?

Your slightly crazed wandering thoughts were harshly interrupted as you felt Astarion’s finger sank deeper within you, his thumb brushing across the sensitive nub right above. Your yelp quickly transformed into a moan as his thumb began dancing in simple short circles, igniting the flame in your stomach to burn even brighter.

”Darling, you know how it hurts me so when you aren’t paying attention to me,” He prodded, voice thick with need and his ever present pout. “What could you be thinking about other than how well your dripping cunt takes my fingers.”

”N-Nothing,” you started, a moan interrupting your sentence as his finger began to pull in and out teasingly slow. “I was thinking about how to keep you from letting compliments roll off of you. Maybe it will take this-“

You brought up your hand to trace a fingertip along the ever growing bulge in his pants. Though he tried to hide it, you were very aware of how his brows drew forward, the way his mouth parted in a heavy breath.

“I assure you, it will take much more than that to entertain any of your praise.” He retorted.

“And how much more would that be?” You replied confidentially, riding the high of the reaction you were able to pull from him.

”Hmm,” he pondered, even having the audacity to look to the side as if in thought, all while his fingers continued their magic below him. His act gave way to a devilish smile as his focus returned to you.

”One orgasm, one compliment.”

”W-what?“ You squeaked, feeling your cheeks begin to redden immediately.

His finger curled deliciously forward, pressing against a point that had your mind quickly fogging over with lust. “You heard me, darling. For every orgasm I drag out of you, I will graciously accept one compliment.”

You couldn’t even begin to come up with a retort, your cunt giving every thought away as it squeezed hungrily around the pale elf’s single finger.

”Ill take that as a resounding yes.” He murmured, clearly proud of himself.

He slipped another finger in, expertly pumping them into you. His other hand reached up, pulling the top of your dress down in a quick tug. The cold air and the desire in the air had them hardening almost painfully. The man before you didn’t miss this development at all, mouth coming forward to nip at your breast playfully. His lips then closed around the hardened nipple, tongue swirling around it slowly. You could’ve drawn blood from how hard you were biting your lip, trying not to let your moans fill the small room.

It didn't take long for the vampire to return the affection to the other, his hand kneading the soft skin his mouth had just left. With his hands, his mouth, the slick sounds your own body was making, the coil below your stomach already felt wound too tight.

You felt the white hot burn at your lower breast, the pain of Astarion’s teeth mixing deliciously with the way the rough pad of his thumb presses hard against your clit. “Gods, Astarion.” You managed to get out, your hips beginning to rock helplessly against his hand.

”Too much, pet?” He replied simply against your skin, licking at the pinpricks of blood left behind by his teeth.

You shook your head furiously, the burn in your stomach becoming more demanding, your breaths uneven and strained. “P-please… please more.”

Astarion growled darkly, his hand moving faster, his mouth returning to your skin. The coil winds tighter, your moans falling into incoherent begs and whines. Astarion, sensing your oncoming high, deftly slips another finger into your folds.

Your vision pales as you cry out, muscles tensing while your orgasm crashes into you. Heat courses through your veins, arousal riding its course as the pale elf’s sinful mouth eases you through it. By the time you’ve regained your perception of which way is up, Astarion is smirking at you, accomplished haughtiness written across his face.

”I believe you’ve earned one compliment, my dearest. Make it count.”

”That was… You are,” You responded breathlessly, thoughts not quite forming correctly in your orgasm ridden brain. “You are amazing, Astarion.”

The man left out a soft chuckle, landing a kiss on your forehead. “Not the most impressive compliment I’ve ever received, but a deal is is a deal. Thank you, my pet.”

Realization crashed onto you. Did I just use my compliment to say something as useless as… that?

”No! No, that wasn’t my compliment, I deserve another go.” You pouted.

”Aht aht ah, we said ‘one orgasm,one compliment’. You can’t expect me to bend the rules for such a clearly made deal.”

“You can’t be serious! You know you can’t hold me to anything I say after coming down from something like that!.” You argued, not feeling ready to give up the fight quite yet.

”Honestly, darling, I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss! There’s a simple way to remedy this.” He said, a knowing smile adorning him.

”And what is that?” You replied, blankly.

Before you could guess his movements. His hands deftly ripped the thin fabric of your panties and reached to pull you flush against his bulge. ”You have another orgasm, of course. What was it you wanted? ‘another go’?”

The desire you had just released from your body hit you again, tenfold. Your own fingers began to work at the ties of his breeches.

”Slowly, darling.” Astarion chastises half heartedly. “We have all the time in the world.”

You knew his words were empty, you could tell by the way his jaw was clenched, pupils blown out with lust that he was as desperate for this as you were. You finally loosen the tie enough to pull the fabric down, releasing his erection to hit his stomach with a small slap.

Astarion let out a strained groan as you wrapped your hand around the length, your thumb swiping across the bead of precome leaking from the delicate slit. You looked up at him, taking in his reactions, greedily. His breaths came in labored heaves, hands gripping your sides as if it were his only anchor to reality.

”Now, now, no teasing, pet.” He tried to retain the cool and confident tone in his voice, but his words were rasped, an octave lower than usual.

You gave him an innocent smile, placing a quick kiss before whispering against his lips, “Then take me, love.”

It’s as if you have broken some sort of invisible chain holding him back. He kisses you harshly, teeth catching at your bottom lip. He adjusts your sitting position, hands pushing your thighs apart to give you access.

He pulls away, looking down at you bared before him, though he could never put the thoughts into words in this moment, you look absolutely ethereal. The ripped clothes, messy hair, big doe eyes looking up at him; he was absolutely undone.

His hips pushed forward, his member dragging through the wetness in between your legs. A strained groan erupts from his parted lips, eyebrows drawing close together, “Gods, darling… you’re perfect.”

You let out your own whine, hips greedily pushing forward, desperate for the friction or Astarion’s cock against your clit. He leans forehead to rest against your own, finally, finally, pushing into your awaiting cunt.

It finds no resistance as it thrusts to the hilt, the dew from your previous orgasm aiding its path. The room is almost completely silent, the both of you reveling in the feeling of the delightful stretch his body imposes upon you.

After a few moments, his darkened voice cuts through, “Please, darling. I must move.”

You nod wordlessly, craving the movement as much as he did. A low grunt was all the warning that you got.

Astarion’s hips snapped forward, setting a brutal pace of thrusts. Your moans fall over your lips with short breaths, hips trying to hold themselves up against the man.

Astarion’s hand reaches down further, holding some of your weight by gripping your ass, his other holding up his weight as he leans forward. His hot breath fans against your neck, head resting against you as if all of his energy is spent on roughly taking you.

Every drag of his heavy cock drives you higher and higher, sickly sinful slaps echoing amongst your embarrassingly loud moans.

“Gods above, pet.” Astarion manages, every word sounding like it took immense effort on his part. You felt his hips start to stutter, your own core beginning to clench hopelessly.

”Astarion, please! I- I…” You start, the pleasure rendering you mute.

”Come undone,” Astarion growls lowly, “Come undone with me.”

Your mouth opens to a silent scream, your cunt clenching hard around the thick member. Your hips jerk desperately, your nails digging into the pale elf’s arms. Astarion follows quickly behind you, pained grunts whispering out of his lips as he pushes deeply into your heat. You feel him twitch, warmth blooming through your lower stomach.

It’s a moment or two before the two of you touch back down to earth, both panting and clinging tightly to one another. When his head finally tilts up to meet your gaze, his eyes are full of affection, smiling softly.

You return him an affectionate smile, hands coming up to trace circles into his hair. ”So did I earn another compliment then?” You teased.

Astarion rolled his eyes, gently lowering you back down, “I suppose you do. Please make this one better than the last.”

You thought for a moment, wondering what would encapsulate your feelings the best. What would mean the most? After another beat or two, you realized there was no hope at a long and drawn out proclamation of love. It would have to start with something simple.

”I am so very lucky to be beginning a life like this with you.” You say sweetly, gesturing to the messy shop around you.

Astarion’s cheeks redden, still slightly unsure on how to go about accepting such loving words. “Well, ahem…” He cleared his throat looking around the room. “As am I.” He narrowed his eyes again at the layer of dust you sat upon. “After it’s clean of course. A task we should be getting back to.”

”Couldn’t agree more.” You sighed, pausing. “But there is one thing you have to do first.”

Astarion looked back at you, his voice lacking any usual tease, simply full of affection, “Anything you desire, darling.”

You giggle, giving him the sweetest smile you can manage.

”You have to pull out first.”

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spikesbicth · 4 months

Text

Got Love Sick All Over My Bed

Astarion x F!Reader!Tav

Summary: Astarion discovers Tav having a private moment in her tent.

approx 1.5k words

cross posted on ao3

CW: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, masturbation, maybe a tiny bit voyeurism but only if you squint. biting. vampires.

A/N: I am just in the inspiration train so I banged out (lol) this quick one shot. just feeling so creative! once again barely proofread so excuse any glaring issues. Feedback always appreciated :) enjoy!

The smell of smoke lingers on your hair and the clothes lying in a pile at the foot of your bedroll. This was a usual occurrence, as nearly every evening was spent at the fire with your companions, discussing the day and what was to come. Conversations often went in circles, regardless of what had happened that day you often felt you were no closer to safety, always in danger. During these nights, you often found your mind and your eyes wandering to Astarion, whose pale skin and sliver hair was awash with a golden glow from the firelight. He was always entrancingly beautiful, but in this light he was truly ethereal, otherworldly. You were awash with love for him, and yet at the same time completely unsure if he felt the same way or would stick around long enough for you to find out.

These memories and feelings swirl in your mind as you try to relax on the uneven ground. It was difficult to remove your doubtful thoughts of Astarion. In an effort to gain closeness to him, you had offered your neck and your blood to him. Over time, for yourself at least, it had become something you anticipated and desired each night; you wished to steal a kiss from him before the ritual. Tonight, you imagine more. You close your eyes, picturing the crescent of his collar bones under his loose silk shirt he wore each evening at camp. The spot where his jaw meets his neck. The feeling of his body pressing against yours, his broad shoulders and chest that narrow delicately to his waist, his hips, his hands…

Tonight you want him, you want what you know he is capable of doing to you. He is to meet you tonight, in your tent, after the others have settled in their own.

You have time though, don’t you…?

You feel blood rush to your pelvis, a slick arousal beginning to pool between your legs.

Unable to curb your desire you trail your cool fingers down your abdomen, pushing up goosebumps as you progress. Already naked under your blankets, you find your clit and begin to rub small circles, gentle and delicately at first. You imagine the smell of Astarion’s hair, sweet with bergamot…

You imagine the smell of Astarion’s hair while he kisses you and touches you the way you touch yourself. A light gasp escapes your lips as the image sends a jolt of energy through your body and you press harder with your fingers. You move on for a moment, pushing two fingers inside of yourself, slightly shocked at how wet you have become. You slip further into your fantasy, imagining Astarion cupping your breast while he fingers you, playing with your nipple, kissing your jaw and neck. Gods, you wish for it.

“Oh my… now what do we have here..?” A voice questions in the darkness at the entrance of your tent.

Your stomach drops, and your eyes jolt open.

Oh. Fuck. You think, feeling your cheeks flush. You in fact, did not have time for this before the object of your desires arrived at your stoop. How long had he been there?

“I… uh, hi,” you croak, your mouth slightly dry from the rhythmic breathing forced by your touch.

Astarion widens the slack door of your tent and lets himself in, an knowing grin across his face. He immediately sits beside you near your pillow. No matter how unreasonable, there was no doubt to you that he knew your pounding heart was beating for him. You sit up, pulling your blanket up to cover your bare chest, feeling unusually exposed in front of him tonight.

“Shall we?” He asks, ignoring what you felt to be the elephant in the room. Though you felt embarrassment, the idea of him watching you touch yourself made your clit pulsate and wetness continue to flow from within you.

“Oh, yes… of course.” You answer, trying to hide your arousal.

Astarion moves behind you, sitting with one leg on either side of you. This was not his usual approach to feeding, and you wonder what he is planning.

“Darling, do lean back for me,” he requests, his voice deep and velvety. You lay back, resting your bare back against him. Your heart continues to pound in your chest and at this point, you were more than certain he could feel it. You tilt your chin back looking up at home with wide eyes and meeting his crimson gaze. He leans forward, and you anticipate the joining of your bodies with his bite.

To your surprise, he lays a gentle kiss on your neck. You gasp, and blink, was this a dream?

“Is that alright, my dear?” he asks, his lips brushing your neck as he spoke. You nod yes, rendered speechless by his kiss. “May I continue?” he asks again, and you nod once more, moving a hand slowly to touch one of his legs.

His kiss meets your neck again, kissing slowly, his fangs only occasionally catching your skin rather than piercing it. You feel your throbbing heartbeat between your legs, as you feel the blanket you had pulled across your chest begin to slip down as you arch your back to allow Astarion more access to your neck. The cool air grasps your nipples and they grow dense and hard in response.

“Would you like to continue to touch yourself?” He asks.

Yes Gods, Yes. You wanted to. You wanted him to watch you. Still, the bewilderment you felt of these fantastical actions playing out squirmed at the back of your mind.

“Please… I do,” you affirm. You send your free hand back down to your folds, and find them even slipperier than they were before. The blanket falls further down your chest until your breasts are fully exposed and it only covers your hand working on your clit.

Astarion moves a hand to one of your breasts, continuing to kiss your neck and jaw. His cool touch sends lighting through your body.

Your clit throbs under your fingers, swollen and sensitive. As much as you desired these moments to last forever, there was certainly no way you would be lasting very long. Moaning and gasping in Astarion’s arms, you rub yourself hungrily.

It doesn’t take much more to reach your peak, bursting into orgasm suddenly. Your hips sway, and you clench rhythmically around nothing. Your back arches and you press the back of your head into Astarion’s shoulder.

Your neck now even more exposed, Astarion sinks his teeth into you, your rich, crimson blood flowing into his mouth. You burn in pain, and you close your eyes, submitting to him.

Eventually, the rush calms, and you are left a panting, bloody mess in Astarion’s arms. You look up to his face again, this time moving to meet his mouth.

You join in a passionate kiss, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. You taste your own blood in his mouth and relish in imaging how much he enjoys the taste of you.

It was an explosion of passion, nearly as satisfying as your orgasm mere moments before. His soft lips sliding against yours, his fangs occasionally catching, his tongue touching and sliding against your own.

You pull away for a moment, looking into his ruby eyes.

“How…?” you ask, unable to find the words to describe your confusion at the sudden encounter, almost a recreation of what had occurred in your mind only moments before his arrival.

Astarion opens his mind to you, psychically linking to yours through the tadpoles that swum in your brain. You needn’t see his thoughts to know what has happened. How could you be so naive, of course the tadpole. Of course. In your fit of sudden insatiable desire, you left yourself almost completely unattended. Anyone who was tadpole-afflicted that happened to be wandering by may as well had been broadcasted the images you had conjured in your mind.

Without words, Astarion interrupts your thoughts. You see into his own mind, and are flustered by what you see. The same feelings you hold towards him, the same desires, the same yearning, the same love - but all for you.

You sit up, turning to look at him straight on, completely at a loss for words. He had wished for this as much as you had. A gentle, warm smile spreads across your face.

“Will you… stay with me tonight?” you ask, your voice faltering, still riddled with disbelief.

“I want nothing more” He replies, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek.

Like twisting vines, the two of you entangle yourselves in each others arms, and cuddle into the bedroll. Exhausted and contented, the worries that plagued your thoughts earlier that evening were nowhere to be found, and you knew that you wouldn’t be kept up from them ever again.

#astarion #mine #bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader #bladurs gate 3 #baldurs gate smut #why is astarjon my muse #spawn astarion

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charmandabear · 4 months

Text

Office Hours - Chapter One

Summary:

Your colleague Dr. Ancunin is a smug condescending bastard and you can't stand him. But you also can't get him out of your head.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Tags/Warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no breeding kink, masturbation, vaginal fingering, vampire bites, modern au, college/university au, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, like the briefest mention of suicide while talking about Hamlet

This would not exist without @zipzoomzaria's gorgeous glasses screenshots because PROFESSOR, PLS. Go follow her bc her edits are out of this world. The masturbation scene is also heavily inspired by @astarionfreak's "Are You Satisfied, Darling?" If you haven't read it what are you doing???

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

There’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. It could be his arrogance, or the condescending way he peers over his glasses at you and your other colleagues. It might be the overpriced cashmere turtlenecks that hug his figure perfectly or the stupid silver earrings adorning his stupid elf ears. But every time he opens his pretty little mouth you feel a snarl growing deep in your throat.

This is the first university you’ve worked at where the theatre and English departments shared an office. Theatre and music, sure, even theatre and dance. But theatre and English? It feels insulting, honestly. English PhDs are some of the snobbiest people you’ve ever met, and they always speak to you like a child. Is it because they’re unimpressed by your MFA, like it made you less deserving of your position? Who knows. But Astarion Ancunin is no different.

“Grace, would you mind making twelve copies of pages 219-254 when you get a chance?” You hand the administrative assistant the heavy book. “You can leave them in my mailbox, I’ll pick them up later.” Grace opens the book to the instructed page.

“Oh, Much Ado About Nothing! I love that one!” she squeals with delight. “That Beatrice and Benedick,” she sighs, stroking the Complete Works lovingly. You smile at her cordially.

“They’re great, they’re basically the non-problematic version of Kate and Petruchio,” you respond in agreement.

“How tragic that Taming’s writing is better.”

You whirl around to see Ancunin walking in looking at something on his phone. He doesn’t even look up as he inserts himself into your conversation. You glare at his interruption. He looks up at Grace, bypassing you completely.

“Good morning, Grace darling, how are you today?” He sweeps over to her and takes her hand in his, planting a kiss on her knuckles. Gods he’s fucking insufferable. Not to mention unprofessional. Grace, however, blushes and giggles like a schoolgirl.

“I’m doing well, Dr. Ancunin, and yourself?” The tiefling’s voice jumps up about three pitches and her tail starts swishing excitedly.

“Leagues better now that I’ve been blessed with your presence,” he coos at her, voice positively saccharine. It takes every ounce of your patience to keep from rolling your eyes. He casts his gaze to you, and even you need to turn away from those piercing red eyes.

“Good morning, professor. Starting Much Ado with your students, I take it?” he asks with a light smile that makes you bristle.

“Yes, it’s a great way for them to practice switching between verse and prose,” you respond coolly, more than a little defensive.

“Of course, one of his best.” He glances down at the volume still in Grace’s hands and his eyebrows raise, peering over the top of his round glasses. “Going with the Bevington, hmm? Interesting. I’m more of a Norton man, myself.” He runs a slender finger along the binding as you grit your teeth. Is he really patronizing you over your choice of edition of Shakespeare’s Complete Works? Of course, he’s an English scholar.

“The Norton is a great tool dramaturgically, but the Bevington is a much better resource for actors, so, yes.” Your voice is steady but there’s an undeniable venom in it. Can he tell how much he’s bothering you? Probably, he’s almost certainly getting enjoyment out of riling you up. His little smirk would seem to suggest it, at least.

“Well certainly, and who knows acting resources better than our resident classical acting expert?” he intones, voice still dripping with honey. You narrow your eyes at him, unsure if he’s taking another jab at your degree.

“Well, as much as I enjoy standing around and debating the merit of various editions of the Complete Works, I’m about to be late for a meeting. Grace, thank you so much, I’ll be back later to pick up those copies. Dr. Ancunin,” you turn to his smug face and he looks back at you innocently. “A pleasure, as always.” You grab your papers and leave the office, feeling the heat of his gaze boring into the back of your head as you leave.

***

“Yes, Thaniel, come on in, have a seat,” you call out to the freshman loitering in the hallway outside your office. He comes in and drops his overfull backpack next to the teal club chair across from your desk. You close your laptop and smile at him warmly.

“So, Hamlet, that’s ambitious! I think it’s a good choice for you, but it’ll be a lot of work,” you say, glancing at your own copy of the monologue.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here,” Thaniel says nervously. “I’m fine with the scansion and stuff, that I get, but I still don’t get the actual words. And I know you said how important that is.”

“For sure, I can guarantee all of the bad Shakespeare you’ve seen has been because the actors had no idea what they were saying. Have you used the Lexicon?” Thaniel looks off to the side, embarrassed.

“No, I don’t really get how that works either,” he says, an air of chagrin creeping into his voice.

“No worries, it takes practice. Here, we’ll do a few lines together. So first off, to be or not to be, that’s fairly obvious, right?”

“Yeah, he’s talking about suicide, right?”

“Sure, but what is he actually saying about it? To take arms against a sea of troubles/And by opposing, end them. What’s ‘them’ referring to?”

“The sea of troubles?”

“Right, the aforementioned slings and arrows. So even though you might know what those words mean individually, look them up in the Lexicon to see if they have a different context here. But you’re right, he’s trying to figure out if it’s better to suffer through the shittiness of existence or to take your fate into your own hands and, well, end them.” You highlight the line and lean over your desk to show Thaniel. A voice pipes up from the doorway.

“That’s not exactly what he’s saying, you know.”

The paper crumples in your hand slightly as your fist instinctively tightens. You plaster a strained smile on your face and look up at him.

“Dr. Ancunin, thank you for gracing us with your presence. Care to elaborate?”

He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, face in shadows. Your office is unusually dark because of the storm outside, and so the bright fluorescents in the hallway give him an almost ethereal halo effect

“It’s a common misconception that Hamlet is contemplating suicide here. Life and death, sure, but ‘to take arms’ isn’t metaphorical, it’s literal. He’s contemplating dying as a result of killing Claudius, not taking his own life,” he says, almost sounding bored. You stand abruptly, your office chair skidding backwards.

“How can that possibly be true? He says ‘to take arms against a sea of troubles.’ He’s using the active voice, deciding whether or not to continue his life or end it. To be or not to be. It’s the first line in the monologue. He’s not talking about the consequences of killing Claudius.” You try to keep your voice from shaking. You know that you don't sound nearly as eloquent as him, and it’s pissing you off. He shrugs nonchalantly.

“You’re oversimplifying it, it’s exceedingly more complicated than that. The whole soliloquy is filled with war imagery. He’s at war with himself, the part of him that wants to kill Claudius and the part of him that is afraid to die.” He pushes himself off the door frame and steps back into the hallway. “But apologies, please don’t let me interrupt your instruction.” And like that he was off, leaving you to stew in silence. Thaniel looks up at you and looks back at the doorway where he stood.

“Should I…” he starts, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“Dr. Ancunin comes at this from a very different angle as an English academic. He’s more interested in the words on the page, rather than how they translate to the stage. But,” you sigh, loathe to give him any credit, “it’s a valid interpretation. We can go down that route, if you want, or we can look at it through this lens.” Thaniel chews his lip while he considers his options.

“I think what you said makes more sense, the suicide bit,” he finally decides. You nod and pull out your copies of the Shakespeare Lexicon.

“Great, let’s go over how to use the Lexicon again,” you say as you flip through the book, looking for the entry for ‘slings.’

***

You drop off your bag and toss your keys into a bowl on the counter. Fucking exhausting day. You unzip your boots and kick them vaguely in the direction of the shoe rack, stretching and curling your toes for relief. You hang up your wet coat and shake rain from your hair. Your eyes dart between the refrigerator, wherein resides a bottle of white wine, and the bathroom door, contemplating how good a hot bath would feel. Both? Both is good.

You pour yourself a generous glass of Riesling and strip your clothes on your way to the bathroom. One of the perks of living alone. Sitting naked on the edge of the tub, you sip your wine as the bath fills.

Fucking Ancunin.

You’re a little shocked at how much he got under your skin today. Normally you don’t think twice about him, excepting the few times you have the misfortune of passing him in the hallway. But today the fates decided to throw you together and your schedules aligned. Well, in your defense, you didn’t seek him out that second time, he was the one who decided to crash your office hours.

You don’t even like Hamlet that much. You certainly don’t care about alternative interpretations of “To be or not to be.” But you’re mostly annoyed because he had a fair point. His read makes Hamlet a more interesting character rather than a cowardly incel romanticizing suicide.

You slide into the bath, hissing slightly as the hot water flows over your chilled skin. Without prompting, Ancunin worms his way back into your thoughts. Hmmph. You take a gulp of wine to try to wash away the taste of the unpleasant image.

Well… not entirely unpleasant. He’s a good looking man, you’d be a fool to deny it. But gods he’s so smug. And interrupting your meeting with Thaniel was wildly inappropriate. Leaning your head against the edge of the tub, you try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You’re not about to let him interrupt you again, and when he’s not even present, no less.

But there he is, in your mind, crimson eyes looking over the top of those metal frame glasses that you’re, like, 99% sure he doesn’t actually need to see. You take another swig of wine to drown his stupid face. With his stupid cheekbones. And his dumb fucking earrings that you want to bite.

Nine hells, what is happening? You’ve been drinking your wine quickly and aren’t thinking straight. You grab your phone and open Spotify, letting your daily mix play through the bluetooth speaker on the counter.

Now Playing: Hatefuck by The Bravery.

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

By Mystra’s fucking grace, seriously? You growl at the growing heat between your legs. Between putting off dinner and chugging your wine, your head is swimming. You might be better off getting it out of your system.

The wine glass hits the tub edge with a clank as you angrily put it down and sink into the water up to your chin. You are satiating a purely physical need, nothing else.

You still shiver as you slip your hand between your legs, lightly running your finger up your slit. You can see his face, looking down on you through those glasses - those infuriating glasses - and your lips flutter. What does he look like under those sweaters? He’s so thin, but his clothes fit incredibly well. It’s not hard to imagine a sculpted body beneath. You spread your legs further and let the warm water tickle your folds.

His silvery curls would look so good between your legs, slender fingers wrapped around your thighs while he laps you up. At least then he’d shut up. A gentle moan escapes your lips as you run your finger along your inner lips, pretending it’s him. You could grab hold of those perfect locks, yanking on them to control where he can go, fucking his face.

You move your other hand up to your breast and start teasing your nipple, feeling his lips around it. You give it a little tug and groan, just like if he nipped at it.

You imagine sitting on his pretty face, pointed ears flushed and hair a mess. Your hips buck into your hand as they might on top of him and your toes curl. You make gentle circles around your clit, thinking of all the other uses for his silver tongue. You whine and squirm at the sensations of heat radiating through your body. You slip a finger inside and hiss as you can see his pale digits entering you in your mind’s eye. You curl it upwards and gasp, his imaginary eyes looking up at you through those long lashes and a smirk playing across his imaginary lips.

“Are you ready for more of me, darling?” You can hear him murmur into your ear.

“Yes, gods yes,” you reply breathlessly into the cold bathroom air. You slide another finger in and feel that delicious stretch. The ghost of him moans, coming undone at the sight of you. You could leave him speechless, for once.

You reach over the edge of the tub and grab the box of waterproof toys. You frantically sift through your collection of dildos, trying to find the right one. Here. It’s long and svelte like the rest of him, but bright shimmery purple. You suction it to the bottom of the tub and hover above it on your knees. It sways lightly in the water, tip of it teasing your pussy just like you’d love to do to him.

Gods, to see him beg for your cunt. To see him reduced to a babbling mess, pleading to let him inside you. Your breath quickens at the mental image of him pulling on his own hair waiting for you to satisfy him. You sink down onto the dildo and your groan of pleasure mirrors what you’d like to hear from him.

You start sliding yourself on the purple dick, feeling its ridges glide against the walls of your cunt as you continue to finger your clit. You imagine your hand splayed across his chest, your black nails standing in contrast against his pale skin. You claw at the bottom of the tub as you increase your pace, desperate to see the pink raised skin that your nails leave behind. The fingers on your clit speed up as well, and you can feel yourself getting close.

“Oh gods, Astarion, don’t stop,” the words tumble from your mouth unbidden. You will absolutely hate yourself for that later, but right now all that matters is your ecstasy. You bounce atop the dildo, disregarding the water that splashes over the side of the tub as you chase your finish. Your moans increase in pitch and fervor as the various images of him in all sorts of positions flash through your mind. Between your thighs, sitting on his face, riding his dick, even fucking pegging him from behind because why the hell not?

“Astarion!” You cry out his name as you crash over the edge, legs shaking and pussy pulsing. Your orgasm reverberates throughout your whole body as you ride it out. Eventually, your movement slows and the water gently sways around you. You look down at your hand, milky juices swirling in the now tepid tub water.

Shit.

***

The next day at work, you avoid him like the plague. You keep your office door closed, usually an unthinkable act but entirely necessary right now. You double check the hallway before leaving to go teach, and then after class you immediately duck back into your office and close the door again. You even avoid the main office for fear of running into him there.

You can’t look at his face right now. You can’t possibly look him in the eye.

When 5:00 rolls around, you glance out into the hallway. Most of the other professors are leaving. To play it safe, you decide to work until 6 so that you can be sure that he’s gone when you leave. You absentmindedly grade performance responses. After you’ve read one paragraph about Miss Julie maybe a half dozen times, you realize that it’s probably time to go.

You slowly open the door and glance out into the hallway. You can’t tell from this angle if his door is open or not. You grab your bag and coat, take a deep breath, and make a beeline for the stairs. As you approach his office you realize it’s open.

Fuck.

It’s fine. You’ll just walk past it and get to the parking lot and then you won’t need to worry about it. He might not even be in there. Or if he is, he probably has his head down and won’t notice you walk by. It’s fine. You’ve got this.

“Oh, professor, a word?” His voice floats into the hallway right as you’re passing his door. Are you fucking kidding? You turn to see him sitting at his desk, head down, writing something. He doesn’t even look up at you. Prick.

“Yes?” you ask, not budging from your spot in the hall. He glances up at you over his glasses. Those fucking glasses. You want to rip them off his face and throw them out the window.

“Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk.” His voice is low and cool. Does he fucking know? There’s no way he can know.

Right?

You tentatively take a step into his office. It’s surprisingly cluttered for a man who always looks so put together, but it’s still warm and inviting. You can barely see the walls for being covered corner to corner in bookshelves full to bursting. He’s got a big mahogany desk in the middle of the room - significantly nicer than the university-issued one. It’s covered in stacks of papers, books, weird little knick knacks; it’s amazing how he’s able to get anything done on it. There are two chairs facing his desk, much like yours, but a rich plush velvet instead of a scratchy cotton weave. He’s got a scent diffuser somewhere, giving the room an aroma like an earthy spiced tea.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the cushy red chairs across from him. You stand there, clutching your bag, staring at him like a deer in the headlights. When he realizes you’re not going to sit, he gets up and crosses over to the door.

“Do you mind if I close this? It’s… a bit embarrassing,” he asks with a crooked smile. You can feel the heat in your cheeks rising. Your mouth goes dry and you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

There’s no way he knows.

Right?

But something compels you to nod, so he closes the door and walks back to his desk, but rather than sitting behind it, he leans back casually on the front of it. He’s taken off the blazer he usually wears and is down to just the turtleneck, sleeves pushed up just below his elbows. He crosses his arms in front of his chest as you stare, waiting.

“I wanted to… apologize. For yesterday.”

You blink at him, the conversation not going in the direction you expected. You had been so focused on yourself, that it took you a moment to realize what he was referring to.

“It was inappropriate to barge in on your meeting with your student. You were mid-instruction, and I needn’t have inserted myself into your conversation.” He leaned back on his hands, stretching out his lean figure to impossible proportions. The grip on your bag slackened and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze over the length of his body. He looks at you quizzically.

“I get the sense that you don’t very much like me,” he muses.

Now it’s his turn to give you the once-over, and you feel practically naked before him the way he looks at you. “Then again,” he adds, and pushes himself off his desk. He slowly advances toward you, though whether like someone approaching a vicious beast or a predator stalking its prey, it’s unclear. You retreat while holding his gaze until your back is flush against the door.

No escape now.

He gets precariously close to you and takes an unsettling whiff. When he speaks again, his voice is a husky growl.

“I think it’s entirely possible you like me… quite a bit.” He’s got at least a half foot on you, and he looks down on you with heavy-lidded eyes. The heat in your face has fully reached the tips of your ears now, and your breath comes out ragged.

“I’m sure I-” you start, but it comes out thick and raspy. You clear your throat and try again. “I’m sure I don't know what you mean,” you finally manage with all of the composure you can muster. He cocks an eyebrow at you, then slowly takes off those infuriating glasses.

“No? Then perhaps I’m mistaken, and your heart rate hasn’t increased by approximately 20 beats per second in the past few minutes.” His eyes continue boring into you. “And maybe that smell between your legs is completely unrelated.”

An undignified splutter comes out of you as you press your thighs closer together. He takes a half step back to let you respond.

“If I am indeed mistaken, then I’ve said my peace and you’re free to go.” The seductive honey is gone from his voice, and in its place is a politely professional tone. You fully feel that he’s giving you an out, that you can both laugh on this as an embarrassing moment and neither will bring it up ever again.

But on the other hand…

“You’re not mistaken,” you choke out in a whisper. The lazy smile is back and he lifts your chin with his index finger.

“What was that? Speak up.” His command weakens your knees and you wither under his gaze.

“You’re not wrong,” you say more boldly, trying to meet his energy. His smile broadens, and for the first time you notice two pointy fangs slip out beneath his upper lip.

Fucking

vampire??

That explains how he could track your heartbeat, and even more his ridiculously keen sense of smell. Doesn’t make it any less humiliating.

“No, I don’t suppose I am,” he snarls and suddenly he’s kissing you roughly, hands twisting in your hair and one knee sliding up between your legs. He pushes you against the door and lifts you off your feet slightly. You’re desperate just to keep up as he devours you, hands weakly grasping at his hips, shoulders, neck. But he’s fully in control of the kiss, and after a moment you let him take you.

He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull away, and you’re both breathing heavily, air cycling between your lungs. Your head feels full of a thick fog and you can’t fully see straight. His hands are still in your hair, tight but not pulling - yet. You get the sense that might not last long.

He drops to his knees and you nearly double over from the sudden lack of support. He runs his nose and lips across the hem of your black denim skirt, inhaling again. Your fingers lace into his hair, but not even remotely in the dominant way from your fantasy. At this point you’re just trying not to collapse.

He looks up at you, flashing another fang-bearing grin. His hand slips up your skirt and his thumb runs across your pussy, barricaded by your sheer tights and panties.

“Darling, you’re positively soaked,” he hums contentedly. “You’d have a hard time hiding this from anyone.” You bite your lower lip, trying to keep the needy whines at bay. But when he fiercely rips the crotch of your tights and presses the flat of his tongue against the drenched gusset, you can’t stop the cry from escaping your throat. He sucks lasciviously, the debauched slurping noise ringing in your ears. Your knees buckle and he grabs hold of your hips, hiking your skirt up to your waist to get better access to your dripping cunt.

He stands and kisses you again, the taste of you lingering on

his lips. He grabs your ass and digs his fingers into your flesh, spreading them until you gasp into his kiss. In one fluid motion he sweeps up your legs and wraps them around his waist, carrying you over to that incredible mahogany desk.

He plops you down on the hardwood and you hear books and papers tumbling onto the floor behind you. He presses his bulge into your mound, this time the sound of both of your moans mingling pleasingly. He tears at your chiffon button down, trailing hungry kisses down your chest as you throw your head back in pleasure. He makes quick work of fully removing your top, though you’re certain he sacrificed some buttons in the process. You hardly care as you paw wantonly at the back of his neck, desperate for him to get his lips onto every single inch of you. He pulls the lace cup of your bra down with his teeth and starts sucking on your nipple, pressing his hand into the small of your back. You arch into him, his hands working you like a soft clay.

So much for the pleading mess that you pictured last night. Instead, you’re the one who's been reduced to shambles, begging for satisfaction.

“Puh-please,” you stutter, and those devilish eyes lock onto yours again. He snakes his way back up your chest and bites your lower lip.

“Puh-please what?” he mocks your stammering, but makes up for it when he rolls his hips forward, dragging that delicious hardness against you. You squirm, trying to pull him closer but he’s got your arms locked in his grip. His lips leave yours and ghost over the flesh of your neck. He very gently scrapes his fangs across your jugular, eliciting a ghoulish moan from you in return. By all the gods, you hadn’t even considered that as a part of it. His movement made it clear that he won’t bite unless you want him to.

But holy hells do you want him to.

“Gods Astarion,” you gasp, and you swear you can feel his cock twitch at the sound of his own name. “Fuck me then bite me, or the other way around I don’t care, but please get in me!” The string of words almost sounds foreign to your own ears, but you’re well beyond the point of trying to sound clever. In an instant, he’s undone his belt buckle and his erection springs forth, bouncing and already dripping precum. He roughly shoves your panties to the side and sinks his cock and teeth into you simultaneously, drawing out your cry of both pain and pleasure. You wrap your legs and arms around him, trying to pull him in deeper. You can feel his mouth filling up with your hot blood just as your cunt fills up with his dick.

You’re panting as you grow more lightheaded, clinging to his neck. Unthinkingly, your fingers stroke his ears, playing with those tiny silver hoops. He lurches and pulls away from your neck, looking absolutely feral with your blood dripping down his chin, which only sets you off more. You angle your hips toward him, trying to get him to start thrusting into you. He pushes your back down onto the desk and hooks his elbows beneath your knee high boots. Then he starts pounding into you properly, and you feel like you’re close to losing it. You grab onto the edge of the desk as he revs up his pace, his cock stretching you out as he keeps your legs close to your ears. You can feel the heat mounting in your core and you know it won’t be long before you come. But at this point you’re just trying to hold on for dear life.

“Fuck, gods, Astarion, I’m-” You finish before your sentence does. He doesn’t relent as the orgasm wracks your body, if anything, he fucks you harder. Just as you’ve barely come down off your climax, he pulls out and yanks you off the desk, spins you around and pushes your face down into the smooth mahogany, warmed from where you had just been. He enters you again, this time from behind, and already you’re working your way up to a second one. Your bare tits squish against the polished surface and he grabs your hair, pulling your head up and arching your back into him.

For the first time you notice the mirror on the opposite wall across from his desk. But rather than both of you, you only see yourself, disheveled and well-fucked, lips swollen from his abuse. Your hair is pulled up by an invisible force behind you. Another unexpected aspect of vampire fucking.

You desperately wish you could see his face because you can feel his thrusts getting more uneven and erratic. You try to turn to get a glimpse of him, but his grip on your hair remains tight. But even if you can’t see him, you can hear him, his grunts and the low string of incoherent swears pouring out of his mouth. The sound of him getting lost in you is enough, and your own moans start building and mixing with his, an utter symphony of epicurism.

His hips give a few more broken thrusts and you can feel his climax, setting off yours. The throbs of his cock match those wracking your cunt, and you hold onto the edge of the desk as the waves wash over you. Once they’ve come to an end he pulls out, and you can feel his semen dripping out of the sudden emptiness and running down your leg. You quietly say a thankful prayer for your IUD.

You’re both panting as he collapses onto your back, planting a half-hearted kiss on your spine. You weakly push yourself up off the desk and see the devastation of papers, smears and fluids. You turn yourself around and relish in his appearance. Your blood is splattered on his fine cream sweater, his usually perfectly coiffed curls damp and sticking to his forehead. You reach up and wipe the remainder of your blood off his chin. He smirks and kisses you, significantly more gently this time.

“That was good,” you murmur through steadying breaths, “but next time, keep the fucking glasses on.”

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #baldurs gate smut #fanfiction #smut #professor astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #office hours

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starlettechild · 4 months

Text

𝒜 𝒟𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁’𝓈 𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉-𝓉𝑜𝑜𝓉𝒽 (3)

তততততততততততত

CONTENT: The final part of A Devil’s Sweet-tooth is here! This writing contains heavy smut, so 18+ only below the cut. Reader is implied to have FaB anatomy, but they/them pronouns are used throughout the passage. POV switches between the reader and Raphael!

⚠️TW⚠️: NSFW/18+! Obsessive behavior, desperate behavior, biting, Raphael is nuts.

A/N: My requests are opening now! I take them for all characters listed on my profile & request rules have been added. This work is not proofread!

Part 1 , Part 2

The feel of their hand as it closed around his was enough to drive him mad. For all his infernal life, Raphael had only known familiar touches - touches in the form of his own skin. Never had he known how desperately he craved the touch of another, someone other than himself. He can feel ripples of flame burn around his heart as he leads them to the main floor, the space clearing for pairs of dancers joining them. A low and slow note from a violin hangs in the air, before all Raphael can hear is the hypnotic music.

Tav steps in unison with Raphael, the music guiding each of their movements together. Has Raphael always had this look in his eyes? Has he always been this tense? Questions upon questions stack in their mind one after another as they stare into those brown eyes of his. They feel all consuming, as if they were staring into the eyes of a starving animal, prowling towards them. For a moment, his stare becomes too much between the two, and they turn their head towards the musicians. But a firm grasp finds itself on their jaw, their head being jerked back to Raphael, his hand holding their jaw in place as his gaze burns into their own eyes. It leaves Tav breathless, frozen, their feet only moving with his, if only to keep themself from falling.

Raphael is starving. His limbs moving on their own accord to hold Tav’s face in place. He aches to hold their head like this as he enters them, to see each and every wince in their features. His fingers curl around their jaw, tracing the bone, then his fingers move downwards, light touches on their neck. He can feel the goosebumps form, and he wants to sink his teeth into them right there in the middle of this crowded hall. The thought, the hunger, the pure and primal need to have them sends blood rushing down below his waistband, and his control slips with each moment that passes as he holds them like this.

The feel of Raphaels hand resting so near their neck has Tavs heartbeat quicken, a fire igniting in their body. His fingers twitch there, and they can tell the devil is restraining himself on a leash that’s about to snap. All those days of heat between their legs.. could it have been? Raphael guides them into a turn, ending with their back against his chest, their hips hitting something.. hard against his. Raphael’s breath hitches, and his grip on their waist tightens enough to leave marks on them. It’s enough to make the devil stumble, bumping into one of his guests behind them. His legs shaking with need. He lowers his head to the crook of their neck, his uneven and heaving breaths fanning against their skin, their back arching, their hips parting from him. But he pulls their body in, closer this time. Holding them right there as their dance slips farther and farther away from the crowded hall. Not a damned soul seems to notice.

Raphael can’t hold himself back anymore. Not when they’re this close. Not with their back of their hips pressed against him like this. He needs them, he needs to have the real thing now. With each slow movement, he’s leading them away from the crowded hall of his home. His remaining humility is thrown out the window and into the Styx, forever lost as he guides them more.. and more.. and more away to the crowd. Closer to him.

Tav willingly moves with him. Those nights of heated un satisfaction, those humiliating moments of moans slipping out from their mouth in the mid-day, it all burns up to this moment. This final tug on the string of their body. The curtains closing on Raphael’s long chase. He has them, and they have him. His hand slowly moves to shut the door of his large chambers, closing with a slam. Claws begin to form, digging into the wood of the door beside Tav as he pins them against it. Finally in privacy, certain that only he can hear Tav now. That their eyes will only remain on him. Tav watches Raphael’s throat bob up and down, the unsteady breaths that leave his mouth. “Have you felt me, all those days?” He asks, his voice strained as he speaks against their ear, running his teeth along it, then his mouth slowly moves down, sharp edges grazing the column of their neck. “Answer.” He bites into their neck, pushing them farther against the door, claws digging even further into the wooden material of it as their head leans back and they cry out. “Yes, yes I have!” They answer, hands finding the material of his doublet. No, that won’t do. With a free hand, he guides their hands up to his hair. “Pull.” He demands, the mark of his bite visible against their skin. Hesitantly, they do pull the strands of his hair, and Raphael lets out a groan against their neck. But it’s not enough, he needs more of this. More closeness. More touch. More pull from them. He slowly raises his head, eyes pinning into theirs, pinning them just as he cages them against the door. “I could not get enough. I will never get enough. Work unfinished from hours spent between your doubles legs. You have no idea how much I’ve craved the real thing.” He watches closely as Tav swallows, hands remaining in his hair. Their eyes searching his, and he lets them search. Lets them see the honesty in his need. Ever the insightful devil, he can see the surprise on their features. They didn’t know it was him. A low chuckle escapes his lips, sounding just like silk. “You made me needy, when I felt you and Haarlep together. Jealous, even. I haven’t been able to shake off such heated feelings. It was only a patch to the floodgates of my wants, to feast from afar. But now.. now I have you.” His hands graze their sides, resting on their hips as he pulls them away from the door. So many ideas. So many things he wants to do to them. So many things he wants to hear and feel from them. But right now, he just wants to bask in this view. The victory of finally having them. He lets go of their waist slowly, hands mourning the feel of their body, and he backs into a chair, head tilting back as he sits, his legs spreading wide. His hands wrest against the armchair, eyes remaining on Tav.

“Undress for me.” He demands from them again, and Tav can clearly see the devils untamed arousal from where he sits. His foot taps against the marble floor, impatiently waiting. Their eyes remain on his as their hands reach up to the ties of their fabric, loosening the strings and buttons. Their fabric slips down, revealing their collar bone, slipping down their arm. They can hear the devils grip tighten on the chair he sits at. They do the same to the other side, and Raphaels gaze lights their skin on fire.

Soon enough, their fabric pools at their feet, leaving nothing but their undergarments to hide their more intimate areas. Raphaels head tilts up, and he breaths in a long and sharp inhale. Tav is worried if he grips the fabric of the armchair any harder, the seams of it will snap, and his restraint with it.

“Touch yourself.” He says gruffly. Tav has never heard the devils voice so desperate and low. Just the tone of it sends waves of heat down below, and even more when Raphael chokes out a “Please.” Their eyes meet again, and there is pure pleading in his gaze. Their hands move through their hair, beginning to trail down lower, over their chest. Raphael lets out a groan in response to watching their touches. “I want to see how you do it, just so I know what I can do better with my own hands.” Their thighs clench together , and their hands still on their chest.

They seem hesitant, and Raphael is impatient. “Lower.” He orders them, and the power in his voice is enough to have their hands trailing down, just above their undergarments. “Lower.” He orders again, and Tav hears the break of fabric underneath his claws against the chair. Their hands grasp the cloth, slipping it down their legs. Raphaels eyes trail down to their region, and stay there. His chest rising and falling rapidly as Tav uses a hand to stroke there. His eyes memorizing each and every movement they make. He will be sure to come back to the memory in his lonely nights, chasing after release on his own body while he imagines them as they are now.

Tav lets out a moan, and in a flash the devil is out of his seat, one hand grasping their wrist to stop their movements, another on their back as he pushes them into his bed. They can feel the twitch of his member still painfully trapped within his pants as he hovers closely over them. The hand that grasps their wrist rises, and he licks the slick off their own fingers, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut at the taste. He turns them over, on top of him this time, pulling the two of them to the center of his large bed. His hands release them, only moving to undo the pins on his doublet, the white undershirt remaining as he throws the cover to the side. His fingers move over the first few buttons of it as well, before stilling, then moving to Tavs thighs.

He pulls their thighs closer, greedy in his movements. “I will taste you, and I won’t stop until you are trembling above me, until I feel tears of pleasure fall into my hair that I’ll have you tugging on.” He urges them closer on top of them, nearing his face. He can feel the hesitant flex of their muscles in their thighs, the stilling of their body, and Raphael looks up at them, that burning hunger still evident in every inch of his face. He could almost finish from the view he sees, Tav above them, their bare chest rising and falling in unison with his own. Their hair messy from his pulling movements. He wants to make it even more of a mess, so he pulls their head down by their hair, his lips capturing theirs. The taste of their mouth is divine. What is it with Tav? Why must every part of them taste so good? So addicting? His teeth bite against their lip, and they open their mouth, his tongue slipping in. The sensation of their kiss is enough to have his hips bucking up against them, and they moan into his open mouth. The devil devours the sound, only pulling away once they are both out of air and on the verge of suffocation. Their heated breath’s mingle together, and Tav gives a slow nod to him of permission to continue. Raphael wastes no time, pulling their hips up with strength fitting of the son of an archdevil against his face. His hands curl around the flesh of both their thighs, looking into their eyes once more before he dives in.

The feel of his tongue against them has their body lit aflame. It’s so much more than what they’ve been feeling these past few days. Overwhelming, almost. Their hands ball into the soft fabric of Raphael’s white undershirt, and they let out moans above him. Groans escape Raphael from below. The devil does not dare hide how much he enjoys this. His hips grinding into nothing, his grip on their thighs tightening. He feasts like a man starved. More passionately than he ever thought possible for an infernal being. Like making love to a religious figure, he licks like a mad man. He can feel Tav shuddering, and he has to stop himself from reaching down to relieve his own arousal. It’s consuming him, from his feet, to the tip of his horns - the burn of pleasure. Their breaths are quickening above him, and finally, finally, do they pull the strands of his hair. And they pull hard as they come to their orgasm. Raphael can feel the waves himself, and he lets out a cry, his mouth moving to bite the inside of their thigh to silence himself as he finishes untouched. Cumming from the taste and feel of them. The real them. Tav releases over his mouth, their divine juices trailing down to his chin, even some down his neck. His teeth let go of the flesh of their thigh, coming down from his own strange high with heavy breaths. But he still wants more. Still craves to be inside them, not only with his tongue anymore. A step he didn’t take with Haarlep. A step he wanted to save. Forget feasting until they’re sobbing. He can play that game later. He needs to have them fully. And he needs to have it now.

He lifts from above them slowly, their juices still glistening on his chin in the candlelight of his chambers. Tav is still coming down from their high it seems, eyes still heavy and breaths still coming in with short bursts. But he can sense the feel from them too, the chase to the finale. “Can I undress you?” His mouse asks him, and Hells does he want them to do just that. They don’t even need to ask. “Yes. Quickly.” He quickly responds, guiding their hands over the intricate buttons of the white undershirt. It slips down from his arms, revealing his chest. Their hands glide down it, and his muscles tense- just as Tavs had when they touched him in such a way. Their hands mess with the waist band of his pants, and he helps them, finally releasing his member, the remnants of his early orgasm evident. Tavs hands pause, surprise on their features. “Did you..?” They begin to speak, and Raphael wishes he had taken Haarleps teasing words seriously. For he did. To simply silence them, he pulls them down for another heated kiss, slowly turning them over to be on top of them once more. This will be his first time ever doing such a thing, but he’s not nervous. Not when he knows how good Tav will feel around him. Not when he knows how badly they crave this themself. His kisses move lower, against their jaw and to their neck, resting his head in the crook of it. Slowly, he matches his hips up with theirs. One leg moving to spread their hips wider for him to fit better, hands slipping underneath their back to hold them closer against his body.

Tav has never felt such heat before. They never knew the sensations Raphael brought them were possible. Little did they know, neither did he. He acts like a wild animal, twisting them and turning them where he wants them most. Spreading their legs with his knee, nuzzling his head into their neck as one slow thrust he buries himself into them. “Fuck.” He curses, his breath becoming low moans himself as Tav squirms in his grasp, pain mixing with pleasure from the size of him. He should have used his fingers, he thinks, to stretch them wide enough. But it’s too late now, and he’s in too deep to stop. Raphael has to stutter out the incantation of a restraining spell, using it to freeze the lower half of his body. He knows he won’t be able to control himself from rutting into Tav, and he doesn’t want his little mouse to be in pain. Not tonight. He can still feel the throb of them around his cock, and he thanks himself for mustering the will and strength to cast that restraining infernal spell.

After mindless and high pitched moans, Tavs body aches for Raphael to dig himself deeper, the burn of his size subsiding and submitting to pure pleasure. They didn’t even understand what it was he muttered into their skin, too lost to wild sensations. But they begin to grind their hips down, and Raphael shudders, the sound of some sort of magical snap sounding out as he thrusts. And he thrusts again. And again. And again. He bites the flesh of Tavs neck, moans their name, palms every inch of their skin with his shaking hands. He revels in the sight of him beneath him like this. The way their face contorts in pleasure. By the end of tonight, Raphael expects his still crowded manner to be filled with artisans, painting and sculpting the sight he sees below. One wrong brush stroke or chip of stone that does not do his divine mouse justice, and Raphael may just hang them on hooks. His hips move in unison with their moans and his own. Louder they become together, and Raphael has to raise his head, speaking and huffing into their ear. "Just for me." He hits a spot within them that has their back arching, and he courses with pride. "Say it. Say it's just for me. Your moans, your body, your gaze. I need it to be mine." He almost pleads with them in-between moans to submit themself fully. The devil within him wanting to own every inch of them, in body and mind.

"It's yours, Raphael! Yours!" His mouse screams his name, and he's done for the moment it falls from their lips. He lets out a series of groans and moans with them, and the two are a symphony of pleasure with one another. He finishes inside, his member twitching still within them from the intensity of his orgasm. Their bodies gleam with sweat as they come down from their overwhelming high. Raphael does not pull out. He keeps himself in the most intimately close way with his mouse. Perhaps he'll never release them from his grasp, not even when their companions come wandering.

Tavs breath heave and slow, long awaited release running its course into exhaustion. Their eyes meeting his. They’ve felt those eyes of his on them the entire time, surely burning each sight of them into his long memory. They blink once. Twice. Sleep runs its claws along their body, still filled with Raphael, his scent lingering on their skin and the smell of their intimacy in the air. But before Tav submits to well earned sleep, they run a hand in his hair.

“Who knew the devil had such a sweet-tooth?”

#bg3 writing #raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x durge #raphael x tav #raphael bg3 smut #bg3 smut #baldurs gate smut #raphael baldurs gate 3 #raphael x reader #raphael smut

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crimsonbubble · 6 months

Note

Belly bulge/cum inflation with astarion pls 👀🙇‍♀️🤨

cw. nsfw, gn!reader, marking, creampies, cum play, fingering *not proofread, just pure horny

[I stared into the abyss as I wrote this]

kinktober masterlist

MINORS DNI!!

It’s a mess. An embarrassingly large yet arousing mess.

Your body shivered and writhed atop his sheets. Your body is littered with hickeys and love bites all over, covering your neck, chest, hips, and thighs. Astarion hovered above you, breathing heavily as he tried to burn this image into his mind.

His hands gently caressed your hips, pressing feather-like kisses across your collarbone. Astarion pulled away from you, not knowing how to react as he watched how his own sticky mess leaked out of you in thick globs.

His hand moved on its own accord, collecting the mess and spreading it over your throbbing core. Astarion pressed the palm of his free hand to your lower stomach, pressing down as he carefully slipped his fingers into you again. More spilled out of you, soiling the sheets even further.

#bubbly speaks <3 #ash answers #bubbly writes <3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion x you #astarion smut #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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littlejuicebox · 2 months

Note

Heya!

I’ve been lurking for a while and had this idea rattling around in my brain - how do you think Astarion would be around a sweet & unassuming Tav but he can tell they’re FILTHY in bed, maybe flirting via tadpole?

Love your writing, hope you’re doing well

- 🌹

Tattoo

This ask has been sitting in my inbox for quite a while, unsure if anon will still see it! This mostly answers the prompt, I think. Perhaps a small detour lol.

Summary: Astarion thought you were an innocent, blushing virgin that night in the clearing. He misjudged you. And now you’re all he can think about.

Tags: smut, 18+, masturbation, tadpole fliritng, mentions of oral

Word Count: 1K

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It wasn’t until that night in the moonlit clearing when Astarion realized you had a tattoo. But of course, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to see your enticing bit of body art any other way.

His original intent had been to use his skills that evening in an effort to repay you for the regular feedings. His unique way of rebalancing the scales, as it were. But now that little tattoo, just below the curve of your hip, in the dip where your thigh meets your — surprisingly delicious — mound is all he can think about.

Astarion’s delved his hand in his pants more than once this week thinking about that vision alone. He hasn’t felt the urge to touch himself in decades, but the memory of that dainty bit of ink constantly taunts him throughout the day, stirring a desire he hadn’t known in ages.

He knows it’s ridiculous – it’s just a bit of ink, for god's sake – and yet, tonight he felt compelled to seek relief by wrapping his own pale hand around his cock and rubbing himself ragged once again. And now he’s sprawled in his tent, the remains of his spend still splattered over his abdomen, and his mind is starting to wander back to that night.

He’d seen tattoos on others, of course. In almost any place imaginable. Most of them were horribly done.

But you? Well, you’d certainly caught him by surprise.

You’d seemed the picture of innocence, made up almost entirely of wide, doe eyes and gullibility. Before his proposition, he’d been almost positive you were a blushing virgin. An easy target.

But to have a tattoo in such a salacious location? And then to have your hot, sinful mouth wrapped around his cock, worshiping it with your tongue, as if you’d never tasted anything better? All with those big doe eyes watching his every move and clearly delighted by his own pleasure?

He hasn’t had an experience quite like that for as long as he can remember.

And, well, looks could certainly be deceiving, couldn’t they?

The taste of your blood as he sunk his sharp fangs into your soft flesh while you’d found release had been intoxicating. Part of him wants to experience it again; the other part knows – and desires to avoid – what he will have to do to achieve that particular flavor.

At this point, Astarion isn’t quite sure if he wants to proposition you again or not. Sure, the first time was satisfactory. Perhaps even a bit enjoyable. But still—

Suddenly, the rogue feels a tugging on the edge of his mind, ripping him from his musings. He recognizes this sensation, it’s a tadpole mind link. But something about this is… different. It isn’t accidental, it’s intentional. Someone in camp is reaching out to him.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Good thing he’s immortal.

Against his better judgment, Astarion opens his mind to the call. And there you are, waiting for him.

"I'm surprised you’re still awake,’ You say, and the silver-haired elf is shocked to hear your voice as if you’re right next to him. Interesting.

‘How did you realize we could do this?’ Astarion asks, and he hears your entertained laughter tinkle in the background of his psyche in response.

‘Shadowheart and I figured it out sometime last week. We’ve only used it to talk shit about everyone thus far.’ You reply, clearly proud of your discovery and thrilled by your own behavior.

‘Everyone?’ The rogue asks, not pleased about being the topic of you and your apparent best friend’s judgment.

‘Almost everyone,’ You amend, and there’s a brief flicker of affection in your psyche towards Astarion that you’re certain he notices before you quickly stomp it down.

You feel a ripple of Astarion’s own satisfaction at your amendment. He’s glad to not be the topic of your more unkind thoughts.

‘What are you still doing awake, darling?’ The vampire questions, ‘You are normally the first one snoring.’

There is the smallest wave of offense, and then a resigned acknowledgement at the truth in his statement. A pause of the mental conversation ensues as you seem to carefully weigh your next thoughts and move around in your tent.

‘I can’t sleep. Too much excitement today, I think. Too much pent up energy,’ You start, and then flash a vision through your own eyes, showing Astarion as you look down at your own barren mound, ‘Care to come and help me… release some of the tension?’

Astarion can see the tattoo through your eyes, greeting him in a sensual hello as you drag your fingers down it, on the way to touch yourself. Gods damn it.

He wants to take you up on your offer, but then he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know what he wants. So instead he dances around the topic, avoiding an answer, with a flirtatious admission of his own.

‘I’m afraid I have taken care of my own needs for the night,’ He replies, flashing you the quickest view of milky white liquid now beginning to dry upon his stomach.

A ripple of disappointment on your end. And then another pause.

‘Well… even though I wasn’t extended the same kind offer, you’re welcome to watch me as I take care of my own needs for the night.’ You offer, now teasing between your folds more insistently. You send the rogue another vision of your needy sex and two fingers now shining with arousal, ‘Via tadpole… or in person.’

Astarion has never thrown his shirt on and walked across the camp faster. In his haste, he broke the tadpole connection. But you hear him coming and barely peel back the flap of your tent, displaying the briefest sliver of your naked form.

The vampire pauses for a moment on the outside of your tent, debating if this is the right move. You’re still touching yourself, he can hear the slickness of your sex from here.

“Hurry up, Astarion,” You whisper, somewhat impatiently, as the urge to find release builds within you.

Fuck it, he thinks. He wants to run his tongue along that tattoo again, even if that’s all he does.

He quickly delves into the tent and ties it closed behind him without another thought.

Eventually, he does drag his masterful tongue along that tattoo, and around many other parts of your tempting body, after he decides to help you find a second release.

Simply watching the first one had been enough to make you almost irresistible. He wanted to sink his fangs into you again. Perhaps in your thigh this time, if you’d allow it.

Like a tattoo, his nights tasting you left him permanently altered.

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion smut #astarion reader smut #astarion reader insert #astarionxreader smut #astarionxyou smut #baldurs gate smut #baldurs gate 3 smut #smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!reader

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elaci · 16 days

Text

The Lethal Light

Daily fixes to the whole 'sun allergy' thing once life has settled, and the intimate love that shines through the boarded windows regardless.

cw; morning sex, unprotected sex, domestic astarion, chores :( i dont know why shakespeare invaded my bones and wrte the most wannabe poet erotica ever but i gift it to you nonetheless because god may smite me down if i do not.

Astarion x reader | 18+ mdni | req rules ⁞ request here | crossposted on ao3

The recipe of friction and carnal lust that creates such a heat between you and your cold-poisoned lover is a narcotic type of addiction for the both of you.

Astarion, blood running cold through his body, heated only by the fire-hot lust that radiates from your skin. The blessing of fever against his lips with each kiss he trails down your body. His lips tingle with the sweet ecstasy of your yearning: he touches you like a man in love and falls deeper with every jerked movement your body responds with in turn.

You, in the sensory heavens as Astarion's fangs tease at the base of your neck: cold ivory skin gliding over your pulse point, feeling the liveliness of your very being. His lean figure over you, caging you against the wiry mattress in such a way you feel both safe and insatiable. Every nerve that coils every bone in your body is rigid. You feel your most alive in the arms of the undead.

Sex before dawn breaks, to avoid the sun flitting in through your netted windows. Your nails, your teeth, your tears: only they mark your lover. No new scars will come, not from the sun or anything else twice as harsh. You no longer need him to wake you early: your body wakes itself to beat the sun and bathe instead in love.

The slow rolling of hips, Astarion stretching you out and unravelling every inch of your being. The freedom you feel in his possession: euphoric and unearthly. The way his cock fits inside of you, the way you squeeze around him in recognition of his size. His gentle, sweet and all-addictive size.

"Oh, sweet darling," the honey that leaves his lips in worship of you. "You are so perfect."

Call this rogue a cleric, and you his eternal god to which he would pray on broken knees.

Yet you have no such demand of him, beside the fingers that pull at his hair when his lips trail down the canvas of skin of your neck and latch on to one your hardened nipples. His hips still snapping against yours, his pace quickening: the chase of a shared climax begins.

A race against the dawning sun.

His balls slapping against your ass, your heart thrumming from your chest to his. The threat of dawn, and the song of his moans, and everything warm and sweet in this world. Your orgasm washes over you in waves, much like those that crash against the shore not far from your home. You see stars despite the looming morning sky, your entire body clenching as roll after roll of ecstasy cleanse you. Birdsong starts outside.

Astarion fucks you through your orgasm, and promises (with a gentle kiss to the flesh of your throat) that he's not far behind you, and that he loves you so, and how you can last just a little longer for him, right?

A hand of his reaches between your legs to toy with you further, because deep down Astarion has a streak of sadism in his soul, and he loves watching you fucked so senseless you forget your own words. The sight, in fact, is enough to lull his orgasm over him: so he flexes his hips as far forward into yours he can, and allows himself to release an ungodly load deep inside of you.

“Take me,” Astarion exhales. “You take me so well, darling.”

A minute is spent in recovery, Astarion encased between your thighs, seated so deep inside of you that you grieve the loss of his length when he begins to slowly pull out. He feels it before you do, the gentle morning sun coming through the window. Onto his back the light shines, and as quickly as it comes, you’re rolling the two of you over and shielding his body with your own.

A knowing smile crosses your lips, Astarions hair dishevelled beneath you. If the sun weren’t so insistent on gifting the earth with a new morning and a sick blue sky, you’d ride him into the evening and right through the night. Though of course, the world has always tended to be unkind to the two of you, and you’re forced to skulk out of bed and to the windows, pulling closed the heavy textured curtains and once more caging the room in silence.

A candle is lit on the bedside, and you see Astarions face only by the dull flame. Orange highlights of his cheekbones and kiss-swollen lips. You can feel him dripping out of you as you stand watching him.

Astarion looks sullen, despite the previous shared euphoria. You always make a point of aftercare with him, and he reciprocates in kind: though you don’t think his sudden frown is weighed down by memories or tight skin.

“Love?” You try, Astarions eyes meet yours: a deep and beautiful red.

“It’s not that,” your beloved offers, leaning back on his elbows to watch you. “It’s this, you do too much for me. I deny you even the sun.”

A step towards him, your legs weak in every perfect way.

“You deny me nothing, Astarion. I never fancied the sun, all it does is burn and bite.”

“Much like me,” a smirk.

“I much prefer you, my love” you stalk over to his side of the bed, and use the candlelight to find our hand cupping the side of his face. “Though if you do feel ever-so useless, you can remedy your woes by getting started on breakfast.”

A kiss pressed to his lips, one not laced with lust but rather a doting love only he could pull from you. You hope to die with the taste of his lips on yours.

“Very well,” Astarion feigns a sigh. “Put me to work then.”

You’re quick to clean yourself up and find some clothes to slip into, and sneak a peek at Astarion as he readies himself for the day. Your lover, perfect in any, every and all ways.

You’re first into the kitchen, drawing the curtains tight just as Astarion walks in. His hair curled neatly around his ears, clothes unmarked and day-ready, despite your eyes being the only ones to lay gaze on him. You’ll be undressing and retreating back to bed within a few hours anyway— ready for a night out with friends. With family.

Still, Astarion readies you some tea, and you pull on some boots and head to the door.

“Door,” you hum.

“Mhm,” a distracted reply. You turn to see Astarion fussing over your collection of teas, though far from the danger zone. You open the door, letting just a little natural light flood the room, and close it swiftly behind you after stepping out.

The morning is cold, and the sky littered with clouds you don’t doubt will bring rain in the days to come. You don’t mind so much, not when your rainy days are spent in his arms, but you hope the crops can handle the extra shower just fine. Mud laces the bottom of your boots as you traipse through your garden. The rising sun is a warmth against your skin, incomparable to the warmth love Astarion feeds you with.

You reach your fruit plants, and scour them for a ripe breakfast. Long gone are the days of scavenging for each meal, so you take your time evaluating each fruit for one that is perfect. You silently thank the sun for at least aiding in the growth of such sweet fruits, pick one that looks good, and take a bite out of it as you turn to retreat back inside.

“Door,” you call out as you push the handle in, peeking your head inside to make sure your love is out of the way, and then duck inside without a moment to waste. “Gods, it’s getting colder out there. Do you think you could fix me something warm to wear, love? We can shop for some fabrics tonigh—”

You stop in your tracks, the sweet nectar of your homegrown fruit stuck to your bottom lip as you listen out for your lover. “Astarion?”

Silence, darkness, every candle that was once lit is now snuffed out. Your heart races, you can’t place his presence. At least, not until his hands are snaking around you from behind, and his lean frame is turning you to face him.

A kiss, hungry. Astarion licks the nectar from your bottom lip and savours it with a gentle groan that falls from his mouth to yours like a song unsung. Within only a moment, your back is pressed against the door you had just come through, and Astarion is nipping at your pulsepoint like he’s testing the waters. The shallow, always-wanted water that is getting a taste of you.

“Quit sneaking up on me,” you reprimand as his tongue glides over old bite marks, sensitive even now. “You're gonna age me with all this stress."

He laughs, a low rumble in his chest that sets fire to your blood.

“As if I'd let that happen," his voice deepens. "You, my love, are going to live forever."

A nice thought. One you let him indulge for a moment.

Astarion pulls away with a kiss to your lips, leaving you mourning his touch.

"Come back to bed," he urges, his breath fanning over your face. "Let me taste you again."

"We just got up."

Astarion tsks, unbothered by your half-assed argument. His gentle hand slips into yours, and without a second thought, he's pulling you back to your shared bedroom.

A glance over his shoulder at your shadowed frame, "we have all day. I've got to clean up the mess I made of you."

The first time you had shared soul and body, you had awoken under the sun. Bathing in the light, unaware of the fleeting joy the sun could bring. You had watched Astarion stand, arms extended, to take in as much of the scorching morning heat as possible.

And even then he was conflicted.

It may not be the sun, or the lethal light, but at least now you can wake besides Astarion just to return to bed with him—

—and still feel just as warm.

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #astaron ancnin x reader #astarion ancunin smut #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate smut #bg3 smut #bg3 x reader #astarion x you

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marimosalad · 4 months

Text

Full pic here 🖤 (CW: rough sex)

#shadowheart x astarion #astarion x shadowheart #shartstarion #Astarion #shadowheart #bg3 #bg3 smut #astarion smut #my art #marimosalad #bg3 art #astarion art #rough kink #rough daddy #dom!astarion #bg3 fanart #baldurs gate smut

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angelltheninth · 3 months

Note

Can you do BG3 characters being edged?

I can for sure! One of my favorite things. To write I mean!

Pairing: Shadowheart, Halsin, Karlach, Astarion x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, edging, teasing, cum eating, overstimulation, thigh kissing, biting, hair-pulling (for Reader)

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this.

SHADOWHEART

Would be interested in trying it at least but not doing a lot of it. She wans nothing more then to make you feel good so the idea of keeping that pleasure from you isn't her thing. Nothing she tries to calm you down works when all you want is to come but she's kissing your thighs, apologizing for only doing as you asked. You arch your back, pussy pushing against her generous mouth as you finally let yourself come, and her smiling at getting to taste you.

HALSIN

Is amused when you keep asking him to come but he keeps stopping every time. His hips don't slow to a crawl, they just stop and he keeps you from moving, allowing you to ask him to keep going but you don't get to squirm even. The only body part you can move is your pussy around her cock, urging him on as best as you can. He doesn't relent for a long time, not until he feels you relax fully so he can arouse you again.

KARLACH

Doesn't not take edging well because for her it's like she's been edged for years already. The only one who could touch her was herself, having your touch is refreshing. You can't pull away without her hands pushing your head back to her pussy and telling you, not begging, telling you to keep licking. It doesn't hurt that much to have your hair pulled on, she's very quick to smooth over your head but she keeps the pressure on so you can't keep edging her.

ASTARION

Goes crazy because you let him drink your blood while he fucks you but don't let him come. You know what your blood does to him, it drives him positively insane with lust. It's not fair of you, even if it's payback for that time he fingered you and then stopped, making you wait for the whole day to make you come. You're as bad as he is, which is why he vows to make you full of his cum later and make you watch it drip out of you.

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crushmeeren · 3 months

Note

Hello there , I read your “things Astarion would say” and my soul left my body. I was wondering if you could do similar thing for Halsin maybe??

Thank you!!

I’m so glad you enjoyed Astarion’s filthy mouth. As soon as you mentioned Halsin, I knew I immediately had to write for him as well. In a loving way, I hope this makes your soul leave your body 💕

For some reason I picture Halsin really enjoying tits so….yeah 🐻

NSFW Things Halsin Would Probably Say

Fem Reader/ MDNI 18+

• My precious, itty bitty bear, I’m beyond grateful we’ve been provided with a quiet moment alone. I’ve had the urge to devour you entirely since the sun rose.

• Oak Father, my eyes feast upon you—naked as the day you were born. Your beauty transcends nature, breasts so supple I hunger for a taste.

• One day when your belly is swollen with our offspring, I’ll drink my fill of the honeyed milk that’ll flow from your sweet nipples.

• Be still and stay standing, my heart. Rest upon the tree and let me lavish your soft cunt to my hearts desire.

• Careful now, my dove. Go as slow as need be, I promise we’ll get that wicked mouth of yours to fit around my cock.

• So eager for me little one. I’ll take care of you, just allow me to prepare you a bit more before we go further.

• My gorgeous girl, being absolutely perfect for me. You open up so beautifully.

• Take a breath love, I’ve got you. I know my cock is rather large. We’ll take it inch by inch until I’m fully buried inside your cunt.

• Gods, I’m enthralled with how your warmth grips me so tightly. Please, allow me to worship your body for the goddess you are.

• Forgive me, but your cunt swallows me too well. It’s simply euphoria—I may not be able to stop myself from taking you vigorously.

• Oak father have mercy on me. You know I can’t tame the beast inside when the word daddy falls from your lips.

• Naughty little bear, so sublime, the way you present for me. It’s a bewitching sight to be had.

• Your breasts are ravishing. I could be mesmerized, watching them bounce for hours.

• Oh hells. There you go, my pretty dove. You’re doing so wonderful, allowing me to feel your swells of sweet pleasure.

• My heart, you were crafted by nature just for me. I’m going to spill inside you, breed you until you’re round and glowing with our child.

• Don’t you dare let a drop of my seed spill from your womb.

#halsin x tav #halsin x reader #halsin smut #halsin headcanons #halsin x you #baldurs gate smut #baldurs gate halsin #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 smut #daddy halsin

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pursuitseternal · 1 month

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“Knowledge is a dangerous weapon:” Bookworm!Tav, Vampiric Spawn Powers, and Breeding—“Bites” Update 📚

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4.6K of banter and breeding

Based on an anonymous prompt

(HBD @lipstickghoulie )

Summary: You have always loved your books and a challenge, when your Vampire Rogue learns his starvation has kept him from his full powers, you take him up on his challenge to teach him the skills that are his due. As you draw closer together, he finds that one bit of information you have failed to teach him… how to make a dhampire

CW: light mocking of Astarion’s ditziness, Spawn Spidercrawl, catching powers and feelings, flirty touching, creepy silent vampire moves, Breeding talk, no babies just breeding, Mating Press™️

Ao3 link | Series link | Masterlist

📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚✨📚

You always knew he was… dumb. Thick headed. Unobservant.

Okay, at times the comments from his thick, rosy lips were just plain stupid. “That lever… must do something…” That was a wonderful moment, one that earned him your eyes rolling so far back in your skull they hurt. “We have some words and some… circles…. Wonder what they do….” Another example of his unparalleled intelligence.

Not to mention the countless times he failed to remember any of the major gods and their shrines as you passed through crypts and defiled chapels.

For as handsome as he was, for as sultry and seductive as you found him, he was… smoothed-brained. But as your journey forced you closer together, you couldn’t help but think some of it may be merely pretense, he was a magistrate after all. He was abused and tortured for centuries, surely that does things to one’s mind. And he was always reading. Every day, every night at camp, his beautiful aquiline nose stuck in a book, crimson eyes devouring the words at a breakneck speed.

One to even rival your own thirst for knowledge.

Maybe it was that you allowed the poor Spawn a chance to drink living, thinking blood for once. Your own. Maybe that was what began to take his little, stupid moments and turn them into something endearing.

Not that he was gracious when you corrected his ignorance. Every time, he gave that adorable, grumpy harumph and then defended his comments, or… since he started feeding from you, he’d just look at your neck still freshly marked and lick his lips. That really shut you up. Set you on fire.

But it wasn’t until you needed him to reach that last little chest up on the crumbling ledge inside some dank cavern that you realized his ignorance wasn’t wholly pretend.

Astarion, vampire spawn, didn’t know just what he should be capable of. He looked positively befuddled when you told him to just climb the brick wall. His sass had been sharp, “I’m not some spider, darling.”

“But you can spider climb, you dolt,” you had laughed imitating his tone, trying to call his bluff on skills he should have, at least according to what you had read in your book. A Spawn should scale such a wall with immense ease.

He just narrowed his crimson eyes at you, a snarl on his lips as he shook his head. “I have never performed such an act, darling, nor have any of my brothers and sisters, those of us Cazador kept for his bidding. Better check your precious facts in your precious tomes before you throw your assumptions on my prowess… dear.”

You still shiver at that night. Back at camp. When you ignored the way he bristled as you approached him in front of his tent. He had sneered at you, readying his next acerbic quip for you… Until you sat so close beside him, settling the heavy book in his lap. Leaning in, you point to the page. Traits and Strengths of the Vampiric Spawn.

You felt him cease breathing, his left hand clutching at the edge of the book growing even whiter. “Astarion,” you breathed. Leaning in more, you looked into his eyes, his gaze scanning the words so quickly on the aged vellum. And then he shoved you by your cheek out of his sightline. He needed to finish this.

“Why, I should be positively remarkable, assuming your book is correct,” he sighed, as if he saw a vision, a dream fulfilled. One where he was powerful.

You nodded as his crimson eyes flashed at you, wide with wonder. “You mentioned Cazador never let you feed enough, and not from thinking creatures.” He nodded, skeptical even as his eyes fixated on your lips. “Well, what you did not know was that denying you a sufficient diet meant also restricting you from your full powers, even as a Spawn, Astarion. You should be able to climb up walls and ceilings, move swifter, lift boulders too much for even Karlach to manage. You should be able to heal almost instantaneously, without potion or feeding.”

“And now?” he replied, that little tremor of hope in his voice unmistakable as his hand traced over the page of your book.

“Well, it’s a difficult deduction, since you have our unwelcome illithid parasite. But now that you are feeding regularly, even from thinking creatures, you should find the effects more than just making you feel… happy,” you rambled on. Even as you kept talking, his eyes glued their gaze to your neck, your lips. If you weren’t mistaken, they even dipped down the v-shaped cut of your tunic.

“So… the more I drink from thinking creatures, the stronger and more powerful I will be?” he murmured, a slight grit in his throat as his eyes definitely darted down your bosom now.

“Y-yes,” you rejoined, sliding back just a touch.

And he slid that touch closer, and then some.

“You’ll help me, won’t you, darling? You’ll help me learn these skills? Give me all I require to access my full potential….” His eyes looked wet, the ruby irises glowing in the flickering firelight. “Please?” he adds with that smirk and that single arching brow of his made you stomach flutter and heart thump so hard in your chest.

“I…” you started, but he only seemed to lean ever closer.

“You know, when I was a Magistrate, back in the City, I would have craved someone with intelligence like yours. We would have been rivals, colleagues…” his eyes dip once more shamelessly up and down your seated body. “Perhaps lovers even,” he breathed. “I always surrounded myself with those of highest intellect, darling. Intelligence is so… undervalued by many, and knowledge is a dangerous weapon, but I see you, my darling. Won’t you please come to my aid now?”

“We… we can try,” you had whispered, barely able to the let the words from your lips with how you seemed to seize under the intensity of his stare.

“Wonderful,” he purred, catching your cheek, your chin in his cool palm. “I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”

You squirmed as his thumb began to brush beneath your lip.

“…to put my new strengths to the test I mean, of course.” He smirked that little bit more twistedly. More seductively. And you knew he heard your heart beating in your artery, your blood rushing under his touch in your veins to pool lower. It was his nature, and you knew more of it than he did.

“Of course…” you breathed. “I’d be happy to help.”

“Then it’s settled,” his voice was thick in his throat, you relished the way his other arm stole around you, clutching at you back to bring you all the closer under his heady spell of charm and seduction. “All that’s left is to seal our new arrangement somehow…”

He pushed that heavy book off his lap, sliding to bring you into completely flushed against him. You’re sure your pulse was raging so loudly, it’s deafened his pointed and twitching ears. That chilled, corpse-cold touch under your chin tilts you up just… so…

You melted, closing that distance between your lips. Every logical thought dispersed in the wind of your desire, that panting breath that passed from your lungs into his.

That’s how this all began, and where it had brought you to this moment, where he clings to the ceiling of a massive cavern filled with both the stink of Gnolls and the vile creatures themselves. Dagger gripped in between his glinting fangs. He readies himself with a look of pure and dark excitement. He loves this. He misses this when it’s just you all back in the quiet of camp, where he tests his ever growing strength and climbing abilities, where he drinks from you every night before he hunts in the dark.

Where he slowly makes you more and more aware of your awakening body the more he touches you and caresses and kisses you. Always every night. Always between your increasingly intellectual discussions about vampiric powers and the moment he sinks his fangs into your skin to feed. He always leaves you after dark, his own belly sated, while you… you grow all the hungrier. Needier. You want more debate, more analysis, more of his body covering yours as he drinks you down.

But not anything more. Not yet. Even as you knew he was edging closer to asking you for sex. Even if he didn’t know all the… implications. After all, knowledge was a dangerous weapon.

You shake your head to free yourself from the longing thoughts of past nights and burning expectations of the night to come. You give him the signal, watching him release with flawless precision, dagger in hand now, as he falls from his spider-perch.

The Gnolls never see you coming, not before your endearingly ferocious Vampire Spawn lands with preternatural grace on their heads and vivisects them before you even reach their location.

He pants as you get at least one good shot from your bow, right for the last twitching body on the ground.

It’s not until you smile, satisfied, you notice that Astarion’s pale skin is riddled with scratches and tears from the beasts’ claws. He holds out his arms, rolling up his sleeves and smiling. Enjoying the sight of his vampiric body healing before his eyes. That crimson gaze practically glows as he looks at you over the carnage. “See something you like, my sweet?” he purrs, arching that brow, just for you, as if the others in your party aren’t even there.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, turning to find the coveted chest of supplies, that Zhentarim sigil on it is no deterrent to you. Not when your Vampire Spawn can charm anyone to do anything now. “We better head back to camp,” you kneel before the strong chest, trying your hand to pick the iron lock.

“Tch,” his voice brushes your ear, physically tickling the small stray hairs that make you gasp. “You know I’m far more skilled with my fingers, especially when it comes to slipping inside…” You shudder to feel him crouching right behind you, his thighs pressed against your ass, his waist brushing your lower back. “…Slipping inside chests, locks, that sort of thing,” he adds louder, just to appease your unease. That dexterous touch has only grown all the smoother and stronger and sneakier now that he has fed well for a while.

He is so sneaky in fact, only one of his hands actually works the lock pick for a moment, the other quickly skates up your leg, tracing the inner seam of your buckskin breeches almost to the peak of your thigh. He laughs in your ear as you muffle a noise under your own palm.

“Soldiers, you really need four hands to pick one lock? Haven't you gotten better, Fangs, now that our fearless leader has let you suck on her and tutor you in being a Spawn?” Karlach chortles, her feet swaying side to side in that perpetual motion dance she seems to do.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Astarion throws the barb over his shoulder, letting you bury your face to hide the tweaks of ecstasy at the corners of your eyes as his fingers keep moving higher… higher. “Some silent performance only you get to savor, it seems?”

“If I didn't know better…” Gale’s pedantic voice draws closer.

“There now,” Astarion crows like the proudest rooster of them all, his hand quickly leaving the edge of your mound to twist that pick and pop the lock just as Gale peers from behind. “Look at all this loot,” he groans and stands, satisfied as he folds his arms over his chest. “Good thing you have a strong, well-fed Vampire to bring it back with us. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

He smirks down at you, hand extended to help you to your feet. Back to the rest, he flashes you that fang-toothed smirk that he knows sets your pulse galloping out of control. Pulling you up, he has to steady you in your legs, near boneless as they are with just that tease of pleasure. “Calm yourself darling, you're making my undead heart hurt sympathetically from all that… excitement,” he rasps right into your ear once you’re on your feet before him, releasing you in favor of bags of treasure and potions and loot to stuff in his pack.

Your mind is racing as your trod back towards your little camp well off the Risen Road for good measure. Thoughts scramble, worries peak their heads up, and you can’t stop thinking about the rest of what you have learned reading about vampires. Necessary research for you, particularly since Astarion has seemingly added flirtation and seduction into your witty repartee this last tenday. So far, you’ve managed to keep his wandering eyes from those pages when he glances through your tomes. He seems to prefer every little dip of your skin where he can see it at any rate. So far, you’ve managed to keep his hands in places on your body that are not too dangerous, yours on his as well.

But something inside you knows that tide is shifting. He wants to offer you more in exchange for more… and… well, if it doesn’t just make your body thrum with life in ways no books had and no previous interests had either.

He has beaten you back to camp, haphazardly tossed the loot for the rest of you to sort out in the center of camp. You know he’s waiting in his tent, now that the sun has begun to trek lower and lower. It’s time for your research, for your indulgence of his strength, and… whatever else might happen.

His tent is dimly lit as you enter, a mess of blankets and pillows, some fine and some in tatters. Stacks of books in the corners have replaced the blood bank bottles you first found here to clutter his space.

But no Astarion.

You tilt your head confused, settling down on one pillow, more or less intact, reaching for an apple he keeps in his stash of food just for you. Just to replenish you between his own feedings. As you bite into the hard skin, as the juice fills your mouth, you reach for a book, some ancient law book he found in the ruins of that village. Must make him think of his old life.

The pages are old and soft in your fingers, your eyes absentmindedly skimming the long words and complex sentences as you chew.

Peaceful. Until you realize it’s far too quiet.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, that feeling of being watched creeping up your spine. Turning, mid bite, you peer into the shadowed corner of his tent behind you.

Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the dark, just a hint of glinting teeth as he smiles and drinks in your fear and surprise. He laughs to hear you hiss as you jump in your seat. “There you are,” he croons from his darkened corner. “I’ve been waiting.”

“F-f-for what?” you force a smile and force your breath to steady all at once. He slides closer, settling down right beside you, and you notice your worn book in his hand, the smile on his face is sultry.

And predatory.

And for a moment, you regret teaching him as much as you have about his untapped powers.

“When were you going to tell me about your little bit of… research… on the side?” his voice is chilling, his brow arching as he flips the book open right to the back.

Right where you had been trying so hard to prevent his eyes from skimming, his ambitious brain from devouring the knowledge.

Your body is hot and rigid, and you know from the way his pointy ears twitch, he hears your pulse. You know from the way that his nostrils flare that he smells your arousal, the slick that dampens your underthings just to be this close to him again after his little stunt today.

“If my observations are correct… and they usually are…” he purrs, even though the stack of evidence to the contrary is vast. But you bite your tongue as he continues, your heart leaping at the topic he is about to breach. “You sound and smell eager to discuss this topic if dhampires, my darling.”

You swallow, watching so heated and frozen as he slides so gracefully to place the weight of that tome in your own lap, his fingers removing the half-eaten apple from your fingers to toss to the side. Then he brings their sticky, juicy tips to his mouth to suck them clean.

You moan, unbidden, at the wet and vigor with which his tongue cleans every crevice of those digits.

“Now, I’d hate to be left wondering just why my intelligent, little darling would withhold such a vital… potent… part of my unrevealed powers as a vampire?” he sets your hand back on your thigh, a little extra brush of his fingers, returning to trace that seam inside your breaches as he had before. “Is she… curious? Afraid? Is this why she has been just so hesitant during our…” he grips your chin, turning your head with commanding force until there is nowhere else to look but his deep crimson eyes, “…late night trysts?”

“It’s not something one just… brings up, Astarion,” you try to flatten your tone, even as that one hand still traces up and around your thigh. “It’s just not… done…”

Something about his eyes softens, “It would be important to discuss, you know, for there is more that I would like to share with you than just witty banter and blood…” his tone dips low into a rumble. “It’s not something I would have known, not a concern I would have shared until I knew of it…”

“There’s more to it than you might know,” you squeak as his fingers press into that slot between your legs. “Now that you’re well-fed, you’ll feel actual….”

You swallow the word. His touch presses hard enough into your folds through your breaches to make them soaked. And you, wanton you, you give a breath and a buck of your hips to keep his fingers there.

“Pleasure,” he smirks, eyes scanning your face as your force your eyes back open, halfway at least. “Yes, I gathered as much. The more I feed, the more I come alive… alive enough to perhaps even bestow a new life…” he squints a grin at you, your mouth slack as he draws that touch just as hard again, “…perhaps one day.”

You arch your body, trying to slip closer. Your secret is out, your anxious thoughts over clandestine information dispersed in the air. And so, the next words from your mouth just build on all that you had been swallowing down.

“Yes, perhaps one day…” you sigh, leaning back on your hands to try to give him full access to your cunt. “Perhaps one day, we could test out those powers together.” Your voice shakes with excitement, it’s pressed with the sincerity you feel for him.

“Oh, my love,” he smirks and reaches both arms around your waist. That newfound strength pulls you flush into his lap, until your molten, silk-soaked center presses against where he’s hardening. “You always know what to say… Seems like quite the power that will take much preparation and proper timing…” He brings your fingers back to his lips as he kisses them softly. “I’d have to feed on more than just a bear and more than just sips from my little treat, sweet as you are…”

You nod, once or twice, before losing yourself in the bliss of his tongue on the tingling inner skin of your wrist. Barely more than a lap before his fangs pierce your skin and suck you down. Your very essence, your living blood pools in his belly, you feel it coursing in his veins. It fills him and hardens him beneath your hips in an instant.

“Well, practice makes perfect you know,” he croons, bloodied lips barely hovering off your own. “I can tell from your scent you are not… in season…. And I have only had the single little taste.”

You pant, writhing at the scratch of your clothing, you long to rip it off and toss it where your book has long since been abandoned. “Sounds right to me,” you hiss, arms tucking around his neck to lower those arrogant stupidly handsome lips to your mouth.

Astarion’s throat rumbles with a growl, the taste of your blood fresh in his mouth as he rolls you on your back. Primal. Feral. He’s your powerful vampire, blood in his body, lust in his brain. And you want to put it all to the test—your own little experiment to match his enthusiastic desire for you. His touch is lightening fast and strong, pulling off your clothing, swift and sure and careful until every inch of your bodies are bare.

Strength hums in his muscles, even as his hands gently caress your cheek, your neck still sore from all his feeding. His body presses you into the pile of blankets that cover his plank of a bed. His hips grind your belly, your thighs are pulled almost against your chest until you’re spread wide open for him. But for every jolt of his cock as it prods above you and drips his early cum on to your belly, his kisses on your lips are sweet, gentle. A silent movement of gratitude for all your willing aid. Those fingers drag their slightly warmed touch around your breast, kneading it tenderly. With every arch of your back, you can almost catch the base of his cock inside your folds.

And you shake. You quiver. You’d had a few lovers, mostly boring and few and far between. But never has your body burned for anyone like it does for him.

As if his vampire touch is calling your blood to pool beneath it. Not one traditional strength, but with Astarion, you aren’t totally sure he doesn’t have some unnatural ability to command your body. To make your blood pound and sing just for him.

“What a good girl,” he rasps, a grind of his hips to send that cock near your navel, over your skin. “I can feel your heat for me from here. Just waiting to be fucked full.” His mouth descends quickly but carefully, only taking a single nipple in his lips. Sucking hard, he pops off with a loud wet noise.

Almost as loud as your moan.

“So ready, aren’t you?” His question weighs you down, your eyes half shut to savor the way he drags back with that length, sliding it in just an inch or so into your aching sex. “I’m waiting…” he growls, and you sob as he pulls even that little bit of his tip back out.

“Yes, hells below, yes,” you pant, hands flying to claw into his ass. Pulling him towards your throbbing core.

That blunted tip prods just barely inside you again. “You want me to fill you?” he rasps.

You nod, your teeth biting your lip hard enough to bleed.

“You want me to fill your belly like you let me fill mine with your sweet blood?” he grips his arms around your shoulders, pressing harder into, cock sliding in another little bit. “Fuck you so many times, my cum will drip from you for days?”

“Yes, Astarion…” you breathe, his mouth devouring your words, ready to swallow your cry as he does, finally, fill you.

You feel the gravity of his body crushing you, his legs braced with every tendon taught as he snaps his hips into. It’s so deep, so driving the way he fucks. And every thrust slaps your flesh and smacks his balls against your ass, but you love it. His breath dampens your collarbone, arms wrapped so tightly around you, you can do nothing but hold on for dear life. Your thighs burn from how they’re bent into your stomach almost, your folds leaking with arousal, and the drag of his cock touches every part of your walls and slams against your channel’s end.

He licks your shoulder, wet tongue lapping up to the artery in your neck. Where it pulses and dances in time with his beat inside you. Flushed and boiling, speared on his length, you pant, suffocated deliciously until you burst. Your visions swimming and muscles contorting in his press, you scream for him. You can hear your arousal, your slick, coating his thighs as his thrusts only increase with speed.

Lifting his head, he sweeps a hand down your sweat-drenched belly, palm bracing just below your navel. His push is relentless, hard and gradual enough you feel it behind your belly, how he gives you resistance from outside against that constant ramming of his cock at your deepest point. It’s enough to throw you into another coil of bliss instantly. “Good girl, so wet and dirty and waiting to be filled…'' he finally speaks through his panting. And he pushes on your belly once more, grunting with each fuck as he comes undone.

As he thrusts and spills his seed, prodding the full length of him to the deepest point yet. You can feel it almost sticking through your skin as he pulses. As he spills, burst after burst, he still rams that end of your cunt.

Beads of sweat drip from his forehead as he looks down your body, and how your skin is wet and flushed and marked from where he gripped you so fiercely.

He smiles and licks his lips. You try to clamber out, but his hand only comes to rest on your shoulder. “Ah ah,” he tutts his tongue at you, slipping out, only to take two of his fingers to play in your mix of cum, slipping it back inside you over and over again. “You’ll need to practice too, and you’ll need to rest to keep all of me inside of you.”

You shudder, a smile wide on your mouth, aroused and embraced, half hidden behind the back of your hand as you cover your face.

“Tch,” he chides you, pulling that hand from your face, “none of that, my darling. I’ll watch every bit of your blush darken your cheek until you’re ready to go again.”

“Again?” you choke. Your hips already feeling stretched and sore, you lay them flat and try to ease the aches.

“Oh yes,” he purrs, “you’ll have to build your strength the old fashioned way, my treat. Now,” he gives your ass a little smack on the side as he lifts it, “on your knees, darling…”

You finally take a breath, freed from his wiry, heavy frame. One cool hand settles between your shoulder blades to have you rest your head on his bedding. But that other hand pulls your hips up, slipping through your juices and teasing your clit until you buck back against his belly. You breathe contentedly, savoring the way his fingers caress you, worship you.

You close your eyes, wriggle your hips, already craving that stretching fullness inside you. A future with him at your side during the day as your strong, well fed vampire… and on your back and knees and belly and any way he would want you during the long nights with your virile lover.

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Text

~Masterlist~

Fanfic Requests ~ OPEN

Art Commissions ~ Closed

This is not a minor friendly page. 18+ only. On extended hiatus :)

Baldur’s Gate

My Series -

~Fem!Reader x Halsin~ Echoes of Love and Loss ~ complete

~Fem!Reader x Ascended Astarion~ Bloodied Stars ~ ongoing

Astarion -

~Gn!Reader x Astarion~ Something Borrowed, Something New - Fluff- Both you and Astarion have spent many months searching for something to allow him to walk in the sun again. However, you’ve had absolutely no luck. Who knew that the solution to your problems would come from just a little teasing

~Fem!Reader x Astarion~ Making It Our Own - Smut/NSFW - Astarion has made the incredible decision to settle down, buying a shop to run a fabric business. The place is definitely a fixer upper, but that doesn’t seem to be the Vampire’s biggest problem. It doesn’t quite feel like his own and he knows exactly how to fix that

~Gn!Reader x Sub!Astarion~ Unwind - Smut/NSFW - Astarion has been stressed lately, his embroidery business completely taking off. Between orders and customers, he’s sure his entire neck is full of knots. Luckily, you have something to help him unwind

Gale -

~Fem!Reader x Gale ~ Mage Hand - Smut/NSFW - Gale has been trying out a few new spells now that the world isn’t, well… ending. Ones that he didn’t deem useful in the chaos of his adventure. The latest one he’s learned intrigues you more than him. Doesn’t everyone need a helping hand?

Halsin -

~Fem!Reader x Halsin~ Bedtime Stories ~ Smut/NSFW - Halsin has ran himself ragged with bedtime stories, his charges demanding to hear a tale or two every night. He comes to you for help, hoping you have a few stories to spare. Unfortunately, this simple ask is going to leave the two of you with very little sleep tonight.

~ Fem!Reader x Halsin~ Rutting season ~ Smut/NSFW - After learning as much as you can about your Druid, surely there’s nothing about him you dont know about. Or could he be hiding a kink that you’re just dying to try?

Polyamorous! pairings -

~Gn!Reader x Astarion x Halsin ~ I’ll love you forever ~ Fluff/Angst - Being in a relationship with your pale elf and bear is easy. Coming to terms with how short your human lifespan is compared to yours? Definitely much harder.

~FemOmega!Reader x Beta!Astarion x Alpha!Halsin ~ Cold Relief ~ Smut/NSFW - Your heat is coming, and it’s coming on fast. Much too fast to hide it from your companions

Headcannons -

~ You fall into their laps accidentally

~ Giving and receiving flowers from them

~ Jealousy

~ Teasing them

~ Are we married now?

~ The Gentle Drow

~ Can we have a baby?

~ Can I touch your ears?

~ Tiefling and their Pale Elf

~ Picnic

~ Wedding Day

~ Being a Dad

~ How they like to kiss

~ What makes them blush

~ How they take care of you when you’re sick

~ How to tell they’re falling for you

Blurbs -

~ Bubbles and Ducks - After a long day, every throuple needs a way to relax

~ Ever the Gentleman - Wyll wont get to be the most charming one. Not with you around

~ Serenade - Baldur’s Gate men and their silver tongued bard

~ Revivify - Halsin wont lose you. Not today

~ Secret Turn Ons - What makes the Baldurs Gate men squirm?

~ Sensitivity - Everyone’s got a soft spot

~ Falling asleep on their laps - Naps can sneak up on even the strongest of heroes

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baldursgrave69 · 3 months

Text

A Pretty Sight - Mature

*this is my first time writing smut, I hope y’all enjoy 🫣*

Rating: NSFW - MATURE, MDNI

Pairing: Halsin x Astarion x fem!durge (named)

Word count: 2.5K

Tags: MDNI, afab!durge, threesome, unprotected sex, piv, blood drinking, vaginal fingering, feelings, oral sex

While writing this I was listening to: Take a Slice by Glass Animals

Find me on Ao3 here

“Halsin you really don’t have to come with. Gale and Astarion are joining me, I’ll be alright,” Agnes said, perched in Halsin’s lap at a table in the Elfsong Tavern. Gale, Astarion, and Agnes were planning their trip to the House of Hope, joined by Halsin who was never far from Agnes’ side. Halsin wrapped his arms around the half elf, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I know you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, little thief. But I can’t just sit here while you’re in the Hells, I’d worry too much,” Halsin said as he pulled her closer. “Let him come, we can use him as a shield,” Astarion said from beside Agnes with a smirk. Agnes rolled her eyes, leaning back into Halsin’s embrace. “Ugh, fine,” she grumbled, closing her eyes. “You’re just loved, my heart. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you while I was sitting here,” Halsin trailed off, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “Alright, alright,” Agnes said, turning to look at the druid. She cupped his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his nose. A smile crossed Halsin’s face as Agnes pressed her forehead to his. He nuzzled his nose to Agnes’ before pressing his lips to hers. Agnes wrapped her arms around the Druid’s neck, leaning into his kiss. “Ahem, as much as I’d love to watch you two go at it, we really should focus on coming up with a plan for tomorrow,” Astarion said with a devilish grin. Gale cleared his throat, shifting in his seat awkwardly. Agnes pulled away from Halsin, pressing a kiss to his forehead before turning back towards the table.

“As we were saying earlier, it’s going to be rather pricey to get Helsik to help us get to the Hells,” Gale said, his finger drumming on his chin. “I don’t relish the idea of emptying our pockets to get to this ‘House of Hope’,” Astarion added. “I’m not worried about it,” Agnes said, lifting her mug of ale to her lips to take a sip. “Oh, did you remember you have a stack of gold somewhere? We can’t exactly afford to just give her everything we have,” Gale snipped at the rogue. Agnes narrowed her gaze at the wizard, setting down her mug. “I don’t plan on paying her anything. I was able to convince her to let me in once before, I don’t see why it would be a problem this time,” Agnes said, a hand stroking Halsin’s hair. Gale scoffed at Agnes, waving a hand at her dismissively. With a quick motion, Agnes threw her dagger at Gale, it landed just above his head, taking a bit of hair with it. “What in the hells!?” Gale yelled, ducking down as not to hit his head on the dagger lodged in the wall. “I find that I can be very persuasive. Perhaps you should trust me on this one,” Agnes said nonchalantly, hugging Halsin tightly. “Gods, you’re amazing,” Astarion said in a low tone, Halsin humming in agreement. “Oh for the love of… I’m heading to bed,” Gale grumbled, beginning to scoot out of the booth. “My knife, if you would,” Agnes said, holding out her hand towards Gale. “Get it yourself,” he snapped, standing quickly and heading up to their rented rooms.

“He’s so sensitive,” Astarion laughed, reaching over and pulling Agnes’ dagger out of the wall. She held out her hand for Astarion to give it to her, but he grabbed it with his free hand and peppered soft kisses to her wrist. “Are you hungry, my love?” Agnes asked, as Astarion looked up at her, his fangs grazing her veins. “Mm, I wouldn’t say no to a taste,” he hummed, releasing her hand and giving her the dagger. “How could you, she’s positively decadent,” Halsin said, his face nuzzled in the crook of Agnes’ neck, kissing along her tattoo. Agnes felt a shiver down her spine as she felt Astarion’s fingers ghost across her thighs. “Just what are the two of you up to?” She asked, looking over to see Astarion laying a heavy gaze on her, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He allowed his hand to trail along her inner thigh, his eyes blown wide with lust. “Perhaps we should head upstairs, hmm?” Astarion purred, squeezing Agnes’ leg before removing his hand. “What do you say, little thief? Would you like to have some fun?” Halsin whispered, Agnes could feel the growing erection in his trousers pressing against her leg. “I think that sounds like a lovely idea,” Agnes said, her voice coming out more breathy than intended. Halsin needed no further encouragement, he swiftly picked the half elf up, putting her over his shoulder. “Halsin!” Agnes squeaked, dizzy from the ale she had been drinking. “Save your voice darling, you’ll be screaming our names soon enough,” Astarion purred, patting Agnes’ backside as Halsin carried her up the stairs to a private room.

Halsin entered the room followed by Astarion, who swiftly closed and locked the door. The druid gently placed Agnes on the bed at the back of the room, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling away. Agnes propped herself up on her elbows, watching as Astarion approached the foot of the bed. “What a pretty sight,” Astarion said, crossing his arms. “Isn’t she?” Halsin agreed, licking his lips, one hand trailing down to cup his erection. “I could say the same,” Agnes said with a smirk, feeling her arousal grow as she eyed the two elves in front of her. Seeing Halsin’s sheer size next to Astarion made her clench her thighs together, growing even more wet. Astarion made his way to the bed, kicking off his shoes and pulling his tunic over his head. Agnes’ eyes trailed along the vampire’s body, her mouth hanging slightly open as she took in every inch of his beautifully smooth, pale skin. Agnes could see Halsin have a similar reaction as he eyed the other elf, the vampire looked ethereal in the candlelight. Astarion climbed up onto the bed, using a hand to spread Agnes’ legs apart and pulling himself up along her body. “I cannot wait to taste you, my love,” he whispered, his head dipping to her neck. Astarion pressed kisses to her bite scars, a hand pressing her harder onto the bed. Agnes moaned as Astarion sucked at the skin around her scars, his tongue occasionally lapping at her neck. “Astarion,” Agnes moaned breathlessly as he slipped a hand under her shirt, cupping her breast. He groaned, realizing she wasn’t wearing a bra. Astarion pulled her shirt up over her head, thumbing at her nipple causing her to whine. “What is it, little love?” Astarion said grazing his fangs across her neck and pressing his erection against her clothed clit sending a wave of pleasure through her body. “Please, just…” Agnes couldn’t get her words out, her head clouded with lust and the faintest hint of drunkenness. “What do you think, Halsin?” Astarion said, pulling away from Agnes to look at the druid. He was watching the two on the bed, palming his cock through his pants. “I think she needs to tell you what she wants,” Halsin said, walking around the side of the bed for a better view. Agnes rolled her eyes, grabbing a fistful of Astarion’s curls and pulling him into a kiss. Astarion groaned as he felt her leg come up to press against the erection straining against his pants.

Astarion pulled back, a smirk crossing his face. “So impatient,” he tutted, pushing himself back off of the bed. Agnes narrowed her gaze at him, letting her head fall back in frustration. “What do you want, my heart? Tell us,” Halsin said, cupping Agnes’ jaw and turning her to face him. Her eyes widened as she noticed Halsin had removed his trousers, his other hand wrapped around his impressive length. “Gods, Halsin,” Agnes groaned, his thumb trailing along her bottom lip. She pulled his large thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and sucking. Halsin and Astarion both let out a groan as they watched her, Astarion now quickly removing his own pants. Agnes pulled her mouth off of Halsin’s finger with a pop, spit running down her chin. Halsin wiped it off for her before pulling her into a kiss. Agnes was so lost in the druid she almost didn’t notice the tug on her bottoms. “Up,” Astarion ordered, patting her leg. Agnes lifted her hips as Halsin’s tongue pushed its way into her mouth. Their tongues danced as Astarion pulled down Agnes’ trousers and small clothes, gently lifting her legs as he removed the clothing. Astarion’s cold fingers ghosted up her legs onto her thighs, kneading into the soft flesh. “I can see how wet you are already, pet,” Astarion purred, pushing her knees to spread her legs for him. Agnes pulled away from Halsin to look at Astarion lying between her legs, his hands trailing her thighs. He shot her a devilish grin before dipping his head to press soft kisses between her thighs. Agnes threw her head back onto the pillow behind her, wiggling under Astarion as he gently trailed his lips closer to her core. “Look at me, my heart,” Halsin purred, pulling her face towards him. She looked over to him, a whine escaping her lips as Astarion licked a stripe up her thigh. Agnes watched Halsin pump his cock as, a groan escaping his lips. “Use your words, love. What do you need,” Halsin said breathily, looking down at Agnes. “I need to taste you,” Agnes whimpered, bringing her hand up to Halsin’s length and swiping her thumb across the tip. Halsin groaned as he kneeled on the bed, bringing his cock closer to Agnes.

“Yes, my love, I want to see you take all of him,” Astarion said as he trailed his fangs along Agnes’ thigh. Just as Agnes was pulling Halsin’s cock into her mouth, Astarion plunged his fangs into her thigh, a loud sigh escaping him as he felt her blood flood into his mouth. Agnes moaned around Halsin’s length, her tongue swirling around his head. Halsin threw his head back, a hand coming up to grab her braid. Astarion dragged his fingers through Agnes’ folds as he continued to feed, groaning at how wet she was. He pulled his mouth away from Agnes’ thigh, the rush he got from her blood leaving him a bit light headed. He lapped at the new wound, licking up beads of blood as they dripped out. Halsin used Agnes’ braid to bob her head up and down his cock as Astarion teased her entrance with his icy fingers. She moaned loudly as Astarion pushed two fingers inside her, curling them upward. “Gods you sound so beautiful,” Astarion groaned, kissing the inside of her thigh as he pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt. Halsin pulled back on her braid, her mouth coming off of his cock with a pop. “Does that feel good, little thief?” He asked, leaning down to kiss her. “Yes,” she breathed as Halsin captured her lips with his. Astarion leaned forward, dragging his tongue along her clit as he fucked her with his fingers. He began drawing lazy circles with his tongue, slowly pulling his fingers out of her.

Agnes moaned into Halsin’s mouth, her back arching up off of the bed as she ground her cunt against Astarion’s face. Halsin pulled back from her to watch Astarion lavish her pussy, his hand pumping his cock once more. “Astarion you look positively divine devouring her like that,” he breathed, spitting in his hand to lubricate his length. “Oh, Astarion,” Agnes whined, her hands tangling in his hair. She could feel her climax building as Astarion lapped at her with reckless abandon. Agnes pulled on his hair, bringing his face up to hers. His eyes were wild, blown wide with lust as he breathed heavily. “I need you inside me. I want to come on your cock,” she growled, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer. Astarion was too far gone to make her wait any longer, dragging his cock along her folds to wet his length. He nudged his head at her entrance, groaning at the feeling of her. As he pushed himself inside, he grabbed Halsin by the hair and pulled him in to a kiss as he began pumping his cock into Agnes. “Oh, gods below,” Agnes moaned, the feeling of Astarion pumping inside her and the image of the two elves devouring one another in front of her nearly pushing her over the edge already. Agnes wrapped her fingers around Halsin’s length, stroking him to match Astarion’s pace.

Astarion pulled back from Halsin, bringing Agnes’ leg up to rest on his shoulder so he could get a better angle. He leaned forward, a hand gripping the headboard behind Agnes as he resumed a bruising pace. “Fuck you’re so… gods,” Astarion was close, Agnes could tell by the sheer nonsense spilling out of his mouth. “Come for me, Astarion,” Agnes whined, continuing to stroke Halsin’s cock with one hand, the other gripping Astarion’s curls. Agnes could feel her own climax building, the new angle punching the air from her lungs. “By the Oak Father, the two of you look so… ah,” Halsin groaned, rutting into Agnes’ hand as he watched Astarion fuck her, gripping the headboard with one hand. Agnes pulled Astarion closer by his curls. “Come for me, please,” she begged against his lips, feeling his pace grow more erratic. Astarion pressed his forehead to hers as he came with a grunt, spilling inside her. Feeling him come brought Agnes over the edge, a wave of pleasure overcoming her body. Halsin wasn’t far behind the other two, spilling into his own hand at the sight of his lovers tangled in one another.

Astarion curled up next to Agnes, his forehead pressed to hers. Halsin joined the two on the bed, embracing Agnes from behind and pressing kisses to the back of her neck. “I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow,” Agnes chuckled, nuzzling Astarion’s nose with hers. “Gale will be pissed,” Astarion added, stroking Agnes’ cheek. “Oh he’ll be fine,” she said, lacing her fingers with Halsin’s. “Would you like to take a bath, my heart?” Halsin asked against her neck, continuing to lay kisses to her soft skin. “Mm that sounds nice,” she hummed. Halsin squeezed her hand before getting up from the bed. “I’ll run it for you,” the druid said with a smile, heading towards the bathroom. Astarion pulled Agnes into his arms, burying his head in her neck. “Are you alright, Star?” Agnes asked, holding Astarion tight. “So good,” he murmured, nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck. She smiled, draping a leg over his waist. Astarion pulled back to look at Agnes, his expression soft. “I love you,” he said with a smile. Agnes pulled him close to her chest, hugging him as tightly as possible. “I love you, too” she whispered.

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