I made a post like this for SilverV a million years ago and wanted to make one for Solavellan as well!
A few of these fics overlap with the ones I have linked in my current pinned post, but there are soooo many fantastic Solavellan fics out there that I decided to make a longer rec post so I could include more of them!!!
Without further ado, here are some of my favorites, in no particular order. Some of them are one-shots or shorter multi chapter fics, and some of them are massive long fics and everything in between. Some of them are new and still in progress, some of them are completed, and a handful of them are older fics. All of them are absolutely worth your time!
walk you to the shore - Scaryanne
A beautifully written post-Veilguard one-shot about Solas and Lavellan having it all out in the Fade. Highly recommend!
the sun to burn - Pip (Moirail)
An Inquisition re-write that goes off canon and does a phenomenal job at exploring a ton of aspects of the lore and story. Features fantastic character writing and takes really thought-provoking directions with the lore!
love is not a victory march - Brunchatthebookstore
A Veilguard retelling where Lavellan is present at the ritual at the beginning that goes off book from there. It's beautifully, heartbreakingly written and off to a REALLY strong start with some truly devastating moments, so this one is absolutely one to watch.
miles below the surface of the dawn - gostak
This fic is one of the most beautiful things I have ever read, period. On its face it's just 6 chapters of "there was only one bed" Inquisition-era Solavellan smut, but I stg the writer was channeling the spirit of Solas Dragon Age himself because it is the most perfect Solavellan smut I can imagine. Read this one, just trust me.
Martyr - existential_naptime
If you like Solavellan angst, this one delivers in spades!!! It's set during Veilguard and explores what would happen if the Evanuris kidnapped the Inquisitor (and more specifically, how Solas would react). It is DELICIOUS and also extremely painful but well worth it!
Requited - cursedhag
A beautifully written, pitch perfect Inquisition rewrite that fully checks all the boxes! Features a lot of excellent Solas POV that incorporates all the new lore reveals we learned in Veilguard. Do yourself a favor and read this!!!!
rook wins in the end - wiltedartist
A great exploration of Rook's relationship with Solas in Veilguard. Solavellan, but focuses on the one-sided unrequited feelings that Rook develops for Solas. Really interesting angle that I haven't seen done better.
And Yet - say_lene
Beautiful Inquisition-era Solavellan one-shot. All of this writer's fics are so beautiful and well-written, so I kind of picked this one randomly but ALL of their Dragon Age fics are worth reading. We stan a good smut character study!!!!!
In the Colours of Your Regrets - scribeofmorpheus
Another excellent smut character study! Solas sadly jorkin' it in the Lighthouse to his own sad murals of his wife. 11/10 no notes.
Roses Where Thorns Grow - Bdafic
This one explores what would have happened if, after Crestwood, Lavellan learned the truth about Solas and they rekindled their relationship. It's a beautiful story that stays true to character and explores some of their messier and more complicated relationship dynamics.
Servitude - niceasspavus
Another really, really solid Inquisition rewrite that explores Solas and Lavellan's romance. Well-written with excellent details and characterization. Highly recommend all of this writer's other fics, as well.
These Hands, If Not Gods - Gefionne
An AU where a pre-Inquisition Lavellan accidentally discovers an eluvian that lets Arlathan-era Solas time travel to her. Beautifully written smut and character development. AUs aren't often my thing, but this one is absolutely worth your time.
Looking Glass - Feynite
This one is theee classic Solavellan fic and probably needs no introduction. It's a time travel Arlathan AU, and it still holds up even after all these years, even unfinished. If you haven't read this one yet, stop whatever you're doing right now and fix that.
Wildest Dreams - elf_trash
Finally, this one is mine!!! It's a retelling of Veilguard with Lavellan as the protagonist (aka Lavellan IS Rook) that focuses on her complicated relationship with Solas. Starts near the end of Inquisition and will continue through Veilguard and slightly beyond. I plan on reincorporating a lot of scrapped ideas from Joplin.
This list is in no way comprehensive, as a) there are sooo many good ones and b) I haven't read everything (yet lolol), so please feel free to reblog this and add your favorites!!!
But in the meantime, do yourself a favor and check out all of these fics! Top tier stuff all around.
Was wondering if you could do one with Halsin or Astarion (or Gale👀) where Tav/reader has never let him finish inside them before and it’s something he reallyyyy wants to do so he spends a long time getting Tav all worked up (maybe even days saying he’s too busy to do anything right now) and then keeps bringing them to the edge before telling them what he wants and saying he’ll let Tav finish if they beg for him to finish inside of them
AHHHHHH OKAY WAIT all three would work so perfectly but I feel like this is especially Halsin coded so ding ding ding, he's the winner today. This is going to be a little out of order canonically because I have a very specific time period in mind for this to go down. HERE WE GO!
Just as nature intended.
Pairing: Tav (f) x Halsin (m)
POV: 2nd person (Reader is Tav)
Rating: 18+, Minors DNI
Warings: SMUT, edging, piv sex, breeding kink, fluff, oral (f receiving), lots of scratching (with some blood), finishing inside, game spoilers
Camp is especially quiet tonight. Gentle waves lap at the short rock ledge, sea mist floating through the air and invading your nostrils with the salty scent. You sigh and relax your tired bones into the cracked stone. The barely audible crackle of the campfire lulls your shot nerves and you rub your temples, the tadpole wriggling just behind your eyes. To put put it plainly, you're exhausted. The shadow curse has really taken it out of you and your group today, evident by the lack of usual banter and comradery that camp often bustles with at the end of each rough day. Instead, everyone has retired to their tents immediately after dinner. You tap your fingers against the rock in a random pattern, doing anything to distract you from the pounding headache in your skull. Carefully pushing yourself from the ground, you move to retrieve your bedroll, preparing to settle in for the night. Whether or not sleep finds you is up to the tadpole at this point.
An idea works it's way into your thoughts and you pause your busy hands for a moment. You know a perfect way to relieve the thundering between your ears. Your lover, Halsin. His large hands and incredible sex drive often offer you solace when nothing else will. Even if he declines your offer for sex tonight, you're perfectly happy to curl up in his arms and search for sleep that way, although you'd much prefer the former option. You plop your bedroll down next to the fire and start towards where he's set up, the familiar scent of oak and basil wafting in your direction from the narrow opening in his tent and you salivate.
"Is that you, my heart?"
His words trickle like honey into your ears and your core burns like the fires of Avernus. You reach a trembling hand out and move the right tent flap to the side, ducking into his spacious living quarters. Halsin is sat cross legged on his bedroll, careful hands whittling a comically small piece of wood, the shape of a duck barely visible past his large fingers. He looks so handsome. Caramel hair tied back in a messy half up, half down bun. Pale green eyes carefully scan the small piece of wood that his knife works at, chipping away little chunks here and there. You giggle quietly to yourself, chewing on the middle knuckle of your index finger to stifle the noise, taking care to not startle him while he works. His attention shifts to you and he immediately sets his work down, muscular arms spreading wide to welcome you into his warm embrace. You oblige and slink into his arms. Your face instinctively nuzzles into the crook of his neck, inhaling his musk. He tightens his grip on you with one arm, using the other to adjust your seating position until you're straddling his muscular thighs. You grin, testing the waters of tonight's potential plans, nipping gently at the side of his neck. He groans, both hands reaching down to grasp your plush ass. "Hmph.."
"Hello, my love."
You lift your head to bite the pointy tip of Halsin's ear, earning a grunt into your perked up ears. A sweet sigh escapes his lungs.
"Not tonight.. My mind is elsewhere. I'm afraid I cannot please you the way you and I both desire. I'm sorry.."
Your lips flatten into a frown and you nod. "Alright." Kicking yourself for even thinking now was a good time, you carefully move to his side, throbbing temple resting against his firm bicep. His eyes soften at your quickness to pull away.
"What's wrong?"
You groan and mumble a soft "headache", closing your eyes to soothe the new light sensitivity. Halsin nods and leans to blow out the candles lit in a row next to him, arms snaking around you, guiding you onto your side with him. He runs his fingers through your soft hair and gently scrunches the hair in random spots on your scalp to relieve pressure. You sigh contently, allowing your lids to flutter.
...
It's been about a week of begging Halsin for release, being disappointingly turned down every time and your core aches from the moment you wake up, to the moment you lie your head on your bedroll at night. It's very unlike him to turn away moments of pleasure with you, especially after he confessed his feelings during the Teifling party. He was very open with his intentions and it made your head spin. He took you that very night. Large hands grabbing and prodding and begging for you, touching every inch of your willing body. Sex with Halsin is euphoric, to be blunt. Otherworldly. With Halsin's age and experience taken into consideration, it's no wonder. His words still ring in your ears every day.
"I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now. I want more than to fight at your side, or sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine."
You lie in your bedroll, the thin veil of sleep still shrouding your tired eyes, but you're trapped in a dream. It's early morning, the rest of the camp still quiet, little snores breaking the dewy silence. Astarion tip toes past you, watching your body writhe in your sleep, clearly dreaming of something dangerous. He smirks and nudges you with his foot. You sit up in a panic, chest heaving, sweat beading up on your forehead and you shoot a look of surprise at Astarion. The vampire crosses his arms over his chest.
"Dreaming of me again, pet?"
"Oh, fuck off. You wish."
You scoff, shooing the man away with the back of your hand, both of your hands coming up to smooth your sweaty hair back and you groan. You quickly pull your nightgown over your knees, shielding yourself from the vampire's prying gaze. Astarion saunters off with a giggle. The small commotion stirs Halsin from his tent and he waves a soft "G'morning" to Astarion, the vampire returning the gesture with a similar wave. You squeeze your thighs together, noticing a very familiar warmth between them. Fuck. You're soaked, night garments basically ruined from the rather intense dream you had. Reaching down, you swipe the slick from your inner thigh and lift your hand up to inspect, the clear substance stretching into thin ropes between your fingers. You grin, not at all noticing your lover standing behind you now, pupils blown wide. He huffs and your bones nearly eject from the skin and muscles that hold them inside. "Sh-Shit." Halsin reaches down and grabs your arm, hoisting you up from your bedroll effortlessly.
"My tent. Immediately."
His tone is deep and hoarse with arousal. You obey and follow the elf to his tent, yelping when he throws you to the bedroll like a ragdoll. You love when he's rough with you. Primal need aches in your belly. You spread your legs for him while he clumsily fumbles with the clasps on the tent flaps. Eventually giving up, he turns to you, mouth salivating at the sight of you so open for him. So ready. He shakes his head, palming at his already erect cock through his leggings.
"Undress for me."
You nod, making a show of sliding your nightgown up and over your head, tossing it beside you, your absolutely soaked underwear coming next. You hook your thumbs into the soiled fabric and tug downwards, painfully slow. The elf grunts in approval, eyebrows knitting together. Once the fabric is at your knees, you slide one leg out, the other flicking the underwear into the air and towards Halsin. He catches them and quickly presses them to his nose, inhaling deeply. You beckon him closer with a slow curl of your index finger, a lust filled grin thinning your otherwise full lips. The air in the tent is warm, the scent of your heat getting Halsin absolutely drunk. He stumbles forward, collapsing overtop of you, large frame pressing you into his bedroll as he aggressively grinds his throbbing cock into your naked mound, desperate for any kind of friction. You wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, closing the gap.
"Halsin p-please.."
His grinding halts, body sliding down yours. You whine at the loss of friction and grab for his hair, shoulders, ears, whatever you can get your hands on to pull him back to you, desperate to feel him against you again. He nuzzles his nose into your soaked cunt, breathing you in, hands sliding to your inner thighs to firmly press them apart to anchor you in place. Your hips buck upwards into the tip of his nose, finding a moment of friction against your deprived clit. He exhales heavy against your slit, his hot breath coasting over your wet skin. Wiggling desperately beneath him, your hands fly down to his hair and he chuckles.
"Oak Father preserve me.. You'll be my undoing."
A quick flick of the tip of his tongue ignites a flame in your core that you cannot control, fire burning hotter and hotter up your spine. Grasping fingers tug and yank at his caramel locks and he grunts against your cunt, the vibrations only assisting in your molten hot pleasure. You burn as hot as Karlach's engine heart. Your climax builds and you yell into the early morning air, teetering on the very edge of absolute bliss. Then the feeling stops. Halsin pulls away, smirking up at you. You kick your legs in frustration and push your hips up towards his face, clit searching for his tongue.
"No, please! PLEASE!"
Your fire dulls to embers and you whine down at your lover, head lifted just enough to meet his eyes. He waits there. Breathing slowly. Each huff of air fans out over your begging cunt. Your eyes well up with tears at the lack of touch. Halsin hushes you sweetly, lips wrapping themselves around your clit once more. He laps at you in slow, painfully slow motions, his head bobbing slightly with the movements of his tongue. The aching builds again and you flex your stomach muscles, walls clenching tightly around the emptiness. The agonizing emptiness. Your sharp nails dig into his shoulders and he groans loudly into your folds. Teeth scrape over your clit, your hips bucking upwards quickly in response and you cry out. "Gods!" Halsin grins and moves his hands under your ass, pushing you up roughly against his tongue as we works you to the edge once more, listening for your change in moans before he pulls away again. You sob. Tears stream freely down your cheeks, back arching up off of the bedroll beneath you and you babble incoherently.
He repeats this process until you're absolutely broken, begging, screaming for him to give you what you so desperately crave. Release. You're positive your other companions are awake now, eating breakfast around the fire to the sounds of Halsin destroying you. The thought definitely arouses you further. He stands over your writhing body and kicks off his leggings, angry and erect cock springing forward. A thin rope of precum drips onto your thigh and you mewl. He bends over to grab your hips, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, nails digging into the same spot on his shoulder before. Halsin hisses. You grin and try to sneakily lower yourself onto his cock, Halsin catching on quickly. He tuts.
"Patience. I want to savor you for as long as I can."
His lips crash to yours, tongue begging for entrance, the subtle taste of your cunt lingering in his mouth. You accept his advance, wrestling your needy tongue with his, a mesh of wet sounds filling the tent. Without warning, he lowers you onto his cock. You moan loudly into his mouth and he follows suit at the grip your cunt has on him. He breaks the kiss to mumble under his breath.
"By the nine hells, you're tight. This is going to be harder than I thought."
Your hands move down his back, nails dragging behind them, slicing long bloody marks into his tan flesh. He throws his head back, bottoming out inside of you before lifting you all the way off of him once more, tip popping out of you with an audible squelch. You keen at the emptiness. Slick drips down beneath you, creating a puddle on the bedroll. Halsin slides in again, then out, then in, teasing your insides. You growl in frustration.
"Fuck me, gods damn it!"
Tears sting in your eyes from the way he's toying with you. You can't take it anymore. Your entire body burns. Aches. Needs.
"I will, my heart. And I'm going to fill you to the brim once I'm done. Only then, can you cum."
Your breath catches in your throat. Halsin had asked to cum inside of you before. And you declined every single time. The idea of potentially carrying a child terrified you. He often reminded you of the resident cleric in your camp, had the need for her become necessary. Now.. Now you're intrigued. You quirk an eyebrow at him and nod slowly, teeth catching your bottom lip. You chew the skin there nervously before settling on a decision. You craved Halsin. Needed every inch of him inside of you. You agree.
"O-Okay.. Just please.."
Halsin slides in before you can finish speaking, the tip of his weeping cock slamming into your soft cervix. You cry out loudly, head falling back, jaw falling open. Your eyes cross, your fingers and toes go numb, you're floating now. Black spots speckle your vision as Halsin aggressively ruts up into you. Your walls flutter around him and he chokes on his breath, hips struggling to keep a consistent rhythm. He nears his end, and you're not far behind. He curses under his breath, grip on you impossibly tight, the indents his fingers leaving on your thighs and ass sure to bruise later. You cry his name into the air of the now steamy tent, the shuffling noises of the rest of the camp making you painfully aware of just how loud you're being. They definitely hear you. Halsin encourages your loudness, nails digging into the flesh of your ass roughly as he continues his thrusting, your entire body bouncing in his arms.
"Gods, I'm close. Beg for it. Beg for me to fill you, just as nature intended."
You pull yourself closer to him, torsos melding into one. Leaning close to his ear you let out a deliciously low moan, tongue working your way along his earlobe.
"Cum inside of me, Halsin. I want you to fill me up. Please.."
Halsin reaches a hand between the two of you, relying on your grip on him to hold you up and his fingers find your deprived clit, rubbing in furious circles. He thrusts one final time. Hot ropes of cum spew inside of you, the large elf grunting in pure ecstasy. He works your clit still, your climax very suddenly slamming into you and you scream his name. Your walls tighten around his softening cock and he slides out of you. You ride the waves, lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as you come undone. He holds you for a moment, cooing into your ear about how well you did for him, how much he loves you, how proud of you he is. You mewl and press tired kisses to his chest and shoulders, asking to be put down. He sets you on your feet and you squirm at the mixture of his cum and yours dripping down your inner thigh, legs barely able to hold you upright. You giggle.
"I need to bathe.. You've ruined me."
Halsin chuckles and pulls his leggings back on, reaching down to retrieve your nightgown and he hands it to you. You slide it on carefully, turning to catch Halsin taking another deep inhale of your underwear. You shake your head and he smirks in your direction, tucking the fabric under his pillow. "I'll be keeping these." He slides his hand into yours and leads you out of his tent, the rest of your companions snapping their attention to the two of you as they're finishing breakfast. Your face turns a deep shade of red and you lower your head in embarrassment. Yeah, they heard you. Astarion stands, moving behind Gale, placing his hands on Gale's hips and rutting playfully into his behind.
"Oh gods, Halsin! Please Halsin! I'm so close Halsin!"
Astarion mocks your loud moans, squeezing his eyes closed tightly as he pretends to cum. Gale rolls his eyes and shoves the vampire backwards, smoothing the back of his now crumpled robe down. Karlach and Shadowheart throw their heads back and laugh, Wyll shakes his head and sips his tea, blinking through the steam. You scurry out of sight of everyone, hand covering your face to somehow shield you from their taunts. Halsin slaps a hand onto Astarion's shoulder, leaning in to his ear, the smell of you still evident on his breath.
"Wishing she'd cry out for you like that, blood sucker?"
1.094 words · Rating: E · Halsin x Astarion x reader · AO3
Tags: threesome, unprotected P in V! (remember: wrap it before you tap it!), coming inside, creampie, dirty talk, chubby reader, they/them pronouns for gnc-reader, laughing while fucking, polyamory
(Oh noo, the filthy smut I imagined in my head turned into ✨love making✨as soon as I was writing it down… Whoopsie)
________
“You’re doing amazing, darling.”
Astarion purred, grazing his lips down your neck and sucking into the soft flesh. He was seated behind you on the bed, his chest against your back, whispering sultry things into your ear. His hands were now on your plump tits, kneading them, teasing your nipples mercilessly, making you moan unrestrained.
Halsin was kneeling in front of you, two fingers working you open, his thumb pressing lightly on your sensitive clit. The druid presented such a gorgeous sight before you, all big and broad and a beautiful hairy chest to die for. His hard cock stood proudly between his legs. The bulbous pink head and thick shaft making your mouth water, you wanted him inside so badly.
“Look how big he is, how he's throbbing for you.” Astarion’s low voice was sending shivers down your spine.
Halsin watched your face closely for any sign of discomfort, he wanted to make absolutely sure that you were ready for him. You moaned, encouraged by Astarion’s words and eager for Halsin to finally give you what you wanted most…
Astarion wasn’t unaffected by all of this. You felt his hardness against your lower back. He was straining against his pants. You tried to turn around to get your hands on him, you didn’t want him to be left out, but he stopped you mid way.
“Ah-ah-ah, this is just for you, darling”, he pulled you snug against his chest and continued kissing your neck. “Let us take care of you, hmm?”
Halsin bent down to cup your cheek with his other hand. He captured your mouth in a gentle kiss, grazing over your lips in languid motions. He was always so careful with you as if you’d break under his big hands. You felt so small with him hovering over you.
You loved the way he made love to you. You always felt so secure and protected with him. But right now with Astarion teasing you, finding your sensitive spots and Halsin’s big fingers exploring the depths of your warm, wet cunt, you were close to your limit.
“Please, Halsin…” you whined impatiently.
“Don’t make them wait any longer”, Astarion chimed in while roaming his hands over your round belly and your alluring tits.
Halsin smiled, “I hear you.” He stole another heated kiss and then he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, making you gasp. “Don’t worry, you’ll get what you desire, sweetheart.”
Fetching and opening the small vial of lubricant, he let a few drops dribble onto your vulva, smearing it into your cunt with the head of his cock.
You and Astarion both made a lewd noise in unison while watching. Astarion’s hands wandered downwards and spread your labia open to watch Halsin nudge his cock inside. Cautiously, he fed you inch for inch of his hard length, making you gasp at the stretch.
Once Halsin was seated inside you, Astarion spoke up once again, voice heavy with lust. “You take him so well, every inch of him…”
”By the oak father, you feel incredible", Halsin agreed with a low grunt that went straight to your swelling cunt. He caressed your thighs and the soft flesh at your waist as he waited for you to get accustomed to his thick shaft.
“Do you feel generously stuffed, darling? Does he fill you up nicely?” Astarion purred close to your ear while he watched.
“Yes… “ You moaned in response. You closed your eyes and threw your head back onto Astarion’s shoulder.
Halsin bent down to pull Astarion into a filthy kiss. Astarion made a surprised yelp that turned into a needy whimper as Halsin devoured his lips hungrily.
He smirked when he broke the kiss, gazing deeply into Astarion’s eyes. “Let’s make sure they’ll never forget this.”
Astarion stared at him and you could feel his erection growing harder against your back. He adored the druid as much as you did and you felt it. “Sounds like a plan”, he whispered seductively.
Halsin grabbed your waist and started fucking you with slow, languid thrusts while Astarion had one hand on your breast and one on your clit, massaging it just the way you liked it.
Halsin looked gorgeous above you. His tanned skin was glistening with sweat, his stomach flexed as he plowed into you, making your tummy and your tits jiggle with every thrust.
Being loved by these two beautiful creatures was like something out of a wonderful dream. Watching Halsin’s adoring expression while he was fucking you, feeling Astarion’s gentle, experienced touch on your hot skin, all of it made your heart race and you couldn’t get enough. You whined desperately as Halsin picked up the pace.
“Fuuuuck…” Halsin grunted.
“Listen, darling, you reduced our handsome druid to profanities, well done!” Astarion chuckled.
You let out a hoarse laugh, but Halsin’s hard thrusts stifled your laughter. You watched his length disappear inside you over and over again, while listening to the lewd sounds and moans that filled the room.
Halsin pounded into you mercilessly, Astarion rubbed your clit harder and suddenly your orgasm hit you with such brutal force and you cried out when deep hot pleasure washed over you and through your body for several seconds.
“Sweetheart, I’m close, where–” Halsin began, unable to finish his sentence, trying so hard to hold it in.
Astarion noticed you were distracted from your orgasm. “Do you want him to come inside you, baby, hmm?” He asked while he was fondling your tits and grinding against your back, chasing his own release.
“Yes, please…” You whimpered.
Halsin was panting above you and with a few more erratic thrusts, he spilled his big load inside you. At the same time, you felt Astarion’s trembling motions coming to a halt as he burst in his pants with a rough grunt.
You made a pleased hum when Halsin pulled out carefully and you watched his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets.
After all three of you had cleaned up, you got back into bed, with you in the middle, Halsin spooning you from behind and Astarion on the other side, facing you. He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead and whispered sweetly: “Hmm, thank you, darling, that was wonderful.”
“My heart, you are so loved…” Halsin peppered your cheeks and your neck with little kisses while he snuggled his big body against yours.
“You make me so happy, both of you.” you murmured as you slowly drifted off to sleep, safe and warm between your two lovers.
______
MDNI divider by @cafekitsune here
tag list: not sure who to tag here, since it's my first fanfic for this fandom, so I'm just gonna tag the ones that agreed to be tagged in everything and some others who are in the fandom and read smut...
A/N: Am I going to use this gif for every nsfw halsin piece? yes. do I care? absolutly not. lol. Anyways, this is based off this request! I hope you all enjoy <3
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. NSFW. Breeding Kink, Halsin wants to get reader pregnant, creampie, unprotected sex, PiV Sex, fingering, Halsin is feral in this one i feel like lol, dirty talk (kinda), discussions of starting a family, fluff, soft at the end.
His hands are like branding irons against your skin, rough calluses creating delicious friction as he slides them beneath your shirt.
“Halsin, what…?” your questions trails off into a breathless moan as he nips at the delicate skin of your neck, all while ushering you quite frantically to his chamber in the grove.
While Halsin and you are intimate more often than most, this is abnormal. Your partner is usually slow, attentive, attuned to your every need. But now…he still seems to be attuned to you but his pace is…feral. It’s needy and hurried, as if he can’t get to you quick enough, can’t press his body to you close enough.
And it seemed to come from nowhere.
The only thing of note that happened that day was that you and Halsin went to visit one of the refugee families who had just had a babe a few days past. A beautiful baby girl that you had been dying to hold since you helped bring her into this world. You and Halsin had spent but a scant amount of time in their home before Halsin was whisking you away.
And now here you are, being pressed down onto a familiar bed, with Halsin filling your every sense, surrounding you with nothing but himself. His fingers are already fumbling with the ties of your shirt, and while you don’t stop him, you can’t help but try to voice your question once more.
“Halsin,” you say, breath catching in your throat as he starts to trail kisses down your newly exposed skin. “What has gotten into you?” you finally ask.
His lips break from your skin only long enough to offer a reply, and even then they still brush against you, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he travels down, his hands slowly inching your shirt upwards in effort to remove it.
“Seeing you with the child, with that small babe in your arms,” he groans as he nuzzles into your hip. “It did things to me that I had never imagined.”
His teeth nip at your skin as your heart rate stutters, arousal pooling in your belly as you realize what he’s saying.
“I want that,” he whispers, voice thick with sin. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to fill you so completely until there is no doubt you carry our babe in your belly…”
His hands have slid down again, fingers hooking in the waistband of your pants, and your hips are coming up to aid him before you even speak.
“Oh, gods…yes-” you moan, your permission leaving your lips without any hesitation.
And that is all Halsin requires.
Your pants are pulled from you, discarded across the room along with your shirt and underthings soon after. You don’t even see how Halsin rids himself of his garments before he is on you once more, his body blanketing yours in a wall of furnace like heat and pure muscle.
You can feel him against your hip, hot and hard as steel, already leaking against your skin. His hands wander to your thighs, fingers digging into the muscle as he settles himself between your hips.
Halsin typically spends an infuriating amount of time with foreplay, saying he often enjoys it more than the deed itself, but tonight you can sense it will be different. He’s eager, more so than usual and you can see the way his muscles strain beneath his skin. The tendons in his neck pulled taught, biceps bulging, the chords in his back tense beneath your hands as you run them down his spine.
He wants to take you. Now.
And if it were any other night you would protest, liking and needing the preparation. But tonight…tonight you can’t wait. You’re already dripping from the way he touched you earlier, from the way he practically dragged you into his chambers, devouring you the whole way. And Haslin finds out as well, one of his hands sliding deftly upwards to sink between your legs, fingers slipping between wet folds before teasing your entrance.
His shoulders shake with a stuttered sigh, his breath warm against your lips as he sinks two fingers inside you.
“You’re already dripping, for me,” he groans, lips brushing against yours as his head falls down to rest on your shoulder. “Tell me you do not want this and I will stop,” he says softly, using what little restraint remains to give you about. “Say the word and I will turn from you now-”
Your fingers dig into his back, things clenching against his hips. “Don’t you dare-”
His fingers leave you as soon as the words escape you, and he rises up just enough to capture your lips with his own as he sinks himself inside you in one fluid thrust. He swallows the sinful moan that rips from your chest, tongue pushing past your lips to drink in your pleasure as he wastes no time in setting a punishing pace.
The stretch of him is divine, the slight discomfort giving way to ecstasy as he moves against you. His arms rest beside your head, fingers carding through your hair as he pulls away for air, only to nose gently at your cheek.
“I can see you now,” he whispers, one hand coming down to rest against your stomach, his lips trailing to your jaw and lower. “Heavy with child but glowing as your body works to bring new life into this world.”
His hips snap into you then, causing him to brush up against that sweet spot inside you with each consequent press of his hips.
“Oh, fuck - Halsin-!”
You can feel yourself hurtling towards your end, desire burning in your veins as that all too familiar coil pulls taut in your core. Your very being sings with pleasure as Halsin touches you, his lips like liquid fire against your already burning skin.
Thick arms move to slide beneath you, wrapping around your waist and tilting your hips upwards ever so slightly until he’s pressing into you so deep you see stars.
“And they will know - everyone will know who you belong to,” he says, voice strained as his hips start to lose rhythm.
You feel his lips brushing against your ear, breath warm as he whispers the words that are your undoing.
“Everyone will know that you are mine.”
Pure starlight explodes behind your eyes as you come undone, clenching around Halsin as he works you through your orgasm with short stuttered thrusts. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, nails leaving deep red marks along his back as you fight to pull him impossibly closer.
Halsin comes with a shout of your name, warmth spilling inside of you as he continues to move his hips slowly against your own, working you both through your highs until you’re both equally spent.
His chest presses deliciously against your own as he sags down into the bed, your skin slick with sweat and much more. But Halsin doesn’t seem to mind, pressing gentle kisses to your temple, your cheek, before finally capturing your lips in a proper kiss.
You sigh against him as he kisses you, his lips soft and gentle in comparison to his earlier frenzied actions. His arms slip from around you, moving instead to run up your sides and down your thighs that are still wrapped around his hips.
You are the first to pull away, but Halsin seems reluctant to remove himself from you, pressing whisper light kisses to your cheeks, your jaw, and down to your neck. Sliding one hand up his back and over his shoulder, your fingers carding through his hair as you scratch lightly at his scalp.
“Halsin is this…do you truly want this? Children?” you ask, voice soft.
The man above you lets out a soft sigh, forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder before coming back up to press another kiss to your lips. When he finally pulls away to answer your question, his hazel eyes are soft and sparkling with a vulnerability you don’t often see in the older elf.
“To say that I have not had a desire for a family would be a lie,” he says quietly. “But I did not know just how deeply that desire ran until I saw you holding Anya’s child. Seeing you like that, caring for a babe with a smile on your face made me realize how much I truly crave that. With you. I wish to have a family with you, my heart. But only if that is something you desire as well.”
Your chest aches with absolute joy as he speaks, eyes starting to water at the sincerity of his words. While you’d never voiced the thought to Halsin, you’d also thought about having children with him. You’d always just assumed he wouldn’t want to be tied down, always destined to wander. So, to hear that he wants this too - with you no less, it makes you feel ready to burst with happiness, your chest tight in the best way.
You nod, lips splitting into a grin. “Yes. Yes, I want…I want that with you too, Halsin. So much.”
The grin that adorns his face is enough to rival your own joy, and you’re unable to stop the squeal of utter delight as he peppers your face with kisses.
“You continue to make me the happiest man on this earth,” he says as his forehead comes to rest on your own. “I do not deserve you.”
“Yes, you do,” you tell him, reaching up to cup his cheek as a sly smirk tugs at your lips. “But…if we want to start a family…I’d say we better keep trying.”
Halsin laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips before pressing his hips into yours again. And you have a feeling you won’t be leaving your bed until the sun shines in the morning.
Summary - A short, fic in which Astarion has a very familiar nightmare and has to deal with the fallout. (tw: past abuse/impl. nc)
No, no, no. No! He had escaped. He was past this terrible life.
This couldn't be happe-
"He's yours to use as you see fit." Cazador laughed, his harsh grip of Astarion's coiffed hair burning his scalp with its sheer ferocity and strength. "And he'll be as pliant as a whore. Truly, there is no task which he is unfit to endure because he understands not to disappoint me."
His mind under the utter control of his master, Astarion could only scream his anguish internally as he nodded his consent against his will; his blank expression even going as far as to smile invitingly as his knees pressed into the cold stone of the floor with enough pressure to hurt.
It was a scene so woefully familiar that he could already feel the pains which he would endure over the coming hours. The stretch of his limbs, so overwrought that the slightest tension would snap the strong bone. The agony of being ripped apart, again and again as he were used as a common whore, a plaything for his masters whims. The tearing of his abused throat as it welcomed whatever was to be thrust within in as his lips unwilling fluttered with lustful encouragements and desperate pleas for more.
Always more.
With his masters open blessing, the small envoy of men descended upon him like ravenous wolves set loose upon a particularly defenceless sheep. They did not fear his strength, nor his fangs, as they saw him for what he was. Truly, he was unaware of which master they served but whatever news they had brought to Cazador was enough to please him into providing his favoured pet for their free use as thanks.
Besides, he had dared to question a direct order from his master and a transgression like that, a crime so great could not go unpunished.
Something raw snapped free of his throat as one of the men pushed his knees apart until the bones creaked and ached; the cadence of the noise was one which could easily be mistaken for the lust he was being forced to perform, like a marionette with its unseen strings toiling away, but as Cazador met his eye, Astarion could feel his masters glowing satisfaction at his hidden distress.
His cock moved involuntarily, growing hard under their rough strokes and calloused hands as scalding bile rose in his throat before being forced back down with desperate swallows. Naked as a babe, his pale skin was dull in the dim lighting as his hands remained pinned uselessly by his side.
In a blink, he was forced backwards the strength of the throw knocked the wind from his lungs. The livid scarring which encompassed the pale skin of his back pressed roughly against the stone, every small movement which disturbed it making it feel like he was being flayed alive anew as the first of the men reached for the latch of their trousers.
"Astarion." A sharp voice pulled him from his terrors with a violent start as his anxiety spiked at the sudden intrusion. Without thought, his mind still fighting against the violent ghosts of his past, his clawed fingers lashed out, finding instant satisfaction in the sensation of tearing flesh as he thrashed against the fabric of the thin bedroll which housed him.
He would never go back.
He would endure a thousand deaths before being brought to heel once more.
It was only when a familiar scent hit him, the sweet allure of the blood that had recently become his only ongoing source of sustence that his eyes snapped open in an instant, banishing his tormentors fully to the shadows of his mind.
In that same moment, he was confronted with the blurred face of his beloved as they gazed down at him, their body kneeling off to his side. A hand was messily clutched at their face, palm only just able to stem the trickling blood which flowed from the fresh set of gashes which his sharp nails had scored through them.
"Astarion!" They called again, voice urgent as a soft hand pressed against his chest to both center and calm him down. "It's me. Only me. And you're safe - you're safe here with me." The words were familiar and hushed, a respectful desire to not alert the others in camp to the situation at hand fully at war with their obvious desire to make him see reason before he could harm anyone further.
"My love?" He muttered, his hands retracting to his own chest as though scalded by what they had clearly done - the harm they had brought to the one who had only shown him kindness. "What in the hells- what ha-"
"You were having a nightmare." Pulling their hand from their face, shame lanced Astarion's heart like a spear as he surveyed the extent of the damage his enhanced strength had carved through their lovely skin. Even through the allure of the spilled blood, fresh bile rose in his throat as the tension in his body refused to dissipate.
"I was? Oh, that seems unlikely. Probably an overreaction on your part, darling."
Even to his own ears, his voice sounded strained and at least an octave higher than it should have as he quickly deflected from his own perceived weakness. His chest felt painfully cold as his body attempted to curl in further on itself, phantom pains ghosting along his skin like a thousand tiny needles piercing him all at once with his many weaknesses and failings.
Refusing to rise to the bait, he couldn't bear to look his love in the eye as guilt stole the breath from his lungs. Not that he had never drawn their blood before, but like this? Something hot tickled at his eyes and he rapidly blinked away the onset of shameful tears which threatened him.
He was better than this.
"Would you like a story?"
A gentle hand placed itself on his forehead, allowing him to adjust to the touch as he tilted his head almost imperceptibly into it. It was an unspoken acknowledgement of his struggles, an acceptance that he didn't quite understand but found himself depserate to cling to in his weaker moments.
Eyes clamped shut, Astarion refused to open them as his head nodded in one swift, sharp movement.
In an instant, a warm body slipped down to join him on his bedroll, their side touching his enough that he could initiate as much contact as he could accommodate or tolerate while he settled in to listen to the offered story with deep, steadying breaths.
"A few years back, I was travelling by a little village very similar to the one we just passed through-"
A/N: yeah uh…I don’t even have a reason for this other than I have my own personal HC that Dammon would be into bondage lmao. But like…the pretty kind. Hope y’all enjoy :3
Word Count: 6.1k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY! NSFW. Smut, PiV sex, cunnilingus, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, bondage, rope bondage, restraints, discussions of a safe word but it;s never used, aftercare, fluff.
The weathered leather book is heavy in your hands as you examine the title.
A Pleasurable Deal.
The text immediately strikes you as one you’ve seen before, and heat rushes to your cheeks when the memory of a banned books list in Sorcerous Sundries comes to the front of your mind.
You remember Gale lamenting the list, saying no texts - no matter how obscene - should never be banned.
You hadn’t given much thought to the list until now, as the book sits in your hands. And the fact that you found it hidden away in Dammon’s side table.
Despite having been with the blacksmith for months now, you’d never seen this specific tome. Either because it was a new item he’d acquired or…a well loved one he'd kept hidden away.
You’re assuming it’s the latter if the worn corners of the leather cover and the bent pages have anything to say.
You move to put the book back, not wanting to intrude on your partners privacy, but as you move to slide it back into place, another book catches your eye. This one tucked behind several other blacksmithing texts.
It looks rather ornate, the black binding inlaid with gold colored trimmings.
Before you can stop yourself, you’re already reaching for the book, fingers sliding along the smooth cover and pulling it from its place.
Your eyes fall to the cover, eyes widening as you read the title.
A Madam's Guide to Pleasure.
The cover falls open before you can think better of it, your eyes immediately flicking to the small piece of paper sticking out from a section farther into the book. You yearn to flip to that page first, but your eyes instead fall to scan the table of contents.
Your face gets even hotter as you read over the various section titles. Everything from the basics when it comes to sex to the more debauched.
Finally, you flip the pages to where the paper sticks out, only to have a few pieces of folded parchment fall into your lap to reveal the title of the section they were tucked into.
‘Bondage’
The otherwise wicked ideal behind the term is hidden by the pretty flowing script on the page. Your eyes follow the words easily, slowly feeling your heart rate pick up as you take in the text.
You’ve only made it halfway through the section when you remember the papers that fell into your lap. Setting the book down gently and open to the page you left off, you reach down and unfold the pages.
The first thing you feel is shock followed by a sudden stab of arousal as you take in the charcoal images sketched onto the pages.
It’s Dammon’s work, you’d be able to tell his artistry from anywhere thanks to the hundreds of sketches he’s shown you of blacksmithing plans.
But these…these are not blueprints of swords or daggers or armor. No…
These sketches are something else entirely. Light and dark lines coming together as he depicts various different types of bondage scenarios.
None of the pictures are lewd in anyway besides their obvious connotation. In a way…they’re quite beautiful.
You see the vague shape of a body, legs tied together with an intricate weave of rope and knots, as if it’s meant to decorate the wearer rather than restrain them.
Almost all of the drawings seem that way, the rope and bindings tied and wrapped in a way that’s almost artistic.
The one that catches your eye the most though, is a page that depicts the front and back view of a woman kneeling and sitting on her heels.
The sketch of her from behind shows her hands bound behind her back, the ropes binding her arms together in an intricately woven pattern that spans from her wrists all the way up to just beneath her shoulders.
The other view seems to be part of the same design, the ropes snaking to the front of her body, twining delicately over her breasts, sternum and chest in complicated knots and patterns.
You’ve just reached up to trace your finger over the sketchings of rope, when a startled call of your name rips you from your reverie.
“What are you doing?”
Dammons voice is raised louder than he usually speaks to you, face several shades darker than usual as he practically lunges for the items in your hands, a look of utter fear and panic on his face.
“Oh, gods,” he mutters, hastily collecting the papers before shoving them back into the black bound novel. “You weren’t supposed to see that, I-“
“Dammon it’s okay! I promise-“
He turns to you then, book clutched tightly in his hands, as he looks at you with something none other than utter betrayal. “Why were you going through my things?” He asks.
You shake your head, heart sinking to your stomach and dispelling any feelings of arousal the drawings drew forth.
“I didn’t mean to, I came up here looking for one of my books and I saw you stored some in here and so I thought-“
“You thought you’d go through my books instead?” He asks, voice now tinged with accusation as he stands, the book still clutched tightly in his hands.
“I’m sorry Dammon,” you say from your position still kneeled on the floor. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“
“I-I’m not upset, I-“ the tiefling cuts himself off, running a hand down his face as he lets out a sigh, avoiding your gaze. “I just…need some air.”
You watch helplessly as Dammon turns and leaves the bedroom, a pit of guilt stirring deep in your belly.
————
Dammon spends the rest of the day in the forge, which isn’t unusual, but it feels like an intentional choice today. One you don’t begrudge him considering you snooped through his personal things.
It’s well into the evening before he comes into the house, and you’re just finishing up dinner. You watch him between plating your meals as he hangs up his blacksmith apron next to the door before heading to the water basin to wash his hands.
You’ve just placed the last of the food onto your plates when he approaches you, taking one of the plates from your hands with a quick kiss to your cheek.
A small weight is lifted from your shoulders at that small action, and you follow him silently to the kitchen table, taking your habitual seat to his right side.
The meal is pleasant enough, you tentatively asking about his forge projects and feel the tension lift as he tells you about them. It goes on like that - like normal despite the nagging in your mind.
You don’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up the earlier incident. But you also don’t want to leave it how it was. You owe him an apology, a real apology, and…there’s something else you want to talk to him about too.
You finally find the courage to bring it all up as you and Dammon clean up after dinner, you drying the washed dishes as Dammon puts them away.
“I’m sorry about earlier, Dammon,” you say softly, not missing the way his shoulders tense as he takes a plate from you, eyes avoiding yours once more.
“It’s…It’s alright,” he says with a sigh. “I’m not angry or upset with you, not over something so trivial. I was just…” he lets out a dry chuckle. “I supposed I’m a bit embarrassed for you to have come across such things. I know they aren’t…Common desires.”
He’s still turned away from you when he finishes, stashing the last dish before his hands fall to his sides. You immediately reach for him, taking his hand in your own as you urge him to face you.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you tell him, feeling that familiar heat creep up into your cheeks as you contemplate your next words.
“I actually…Liked them. The drawings, I mean.”
Dammon’s eyes finally snap to yours then, bright blue iris’ completely visible to you as he stares at you wide eyed, mouth slightly agape.
“You…what?”
You take your lip between your teeth coyly, courage slowly building up in your chest as you move to slip your arms around his waist, hands resting on his low back as returns the lose embrace.
“I liked them,” you repeat. “It looked…beautiful really. The intricate designs and knots and I…”
You pause then, shyness creeping in one more as you look up at your lover.
“I think I’d like to try it sometime. If that’s - if you’d want too, of course.”
You can practically see the way Dammon’s heart rate picks up, cheeks darkening with blush as his breath stutters.
“You’d…You’d try that? With me?”
A small chuckle slips past your lips. “I hope it’s with you.”
In an answer of his own, Dammon captures your lips with his in a fierce kiss. It’s needy and desperate and filled with a relief only you can understand as he pulls you tighter to him.
“I love you,” he mutters against your lips before pulling down to trail kisses down your jaw. “We can’t do it tonight,” he says. “I need to prepare.”
You try to hide the small swell of disappointment, but Dammon must sense it anyways, nipping at the spot just below your ear as he tugs you closer to his body.
“I’m still going to ravish you tonight though. For making me the happiest man in Baldur’s Gate.”
You smile, pulling him up for another kiss before he whisks you upstairs. Anticipation for tonight and what’s to come in the future simmering low in your belly.
—————
It’s only a few days later when Dammon brings it back up, asking if tonight you’d like to try what you all had discussed. When you agreed, a bit too eagerly, he had just let out a small laugh before laying out all of the boundaries.
He had you pick a safeword in case you wanted out of the restraints, as well as asking you about anything you’d be uncomfortable with. In the end you’d just told him you trusted him completely and once again stated your excitment.
Which led you here, blindfolded on the edge of your shared bed in nothing but your smallclothes.
Dammon had tied the soft silk fabric around your eyes before leaving the room to fetch something, asking that you not remove the blindfold before he got back. You obeyed easily, but as the seconds turn into minutes, you feel yourself start to grow impatient.
What is taking him so long?
Your fingers twitch against your skin from where your hands sit on your thighs before moving to be by your side instead, toying with the soft sheets beneath you. Every creak and faint footstep has your ears perking up, waiting in anticipation for Dammon to return.
Finally, you hear his familiar footsteps coming up the stairs and to your shared room, the floor boards creaking beneath his weight. His steps are softer than when he left, the sound of bare soles on the wood greeting your ears as he approaches your position.
He must have taken off his shoes. And you silently hope he took off other things as well, wanting to feel him at least a little bit before you're restrained.
“Are you still alright?” he asks, his voice much closer than you anticipated.
You jump slightly as you realize he’s right in front of you now, and you can feel the subtle heat radiating from his body. You nod, reaching out instinctively to touch him.
He allows it, sighing lightly when your hands bump against his bare stomach, flattening against the taut muscle there before sliding upwards. You can feel the faint ridges and bumps unique to his skin as you continue upwards, gliding over his chest before coming back down again, mapping him in your blinded state. You only stop when your fingers meet rough fabric - the waistband of his pants.
You hear the faint sound of his tail brushing the ground intermittently, and you can’t help but smile as your fingers curl beneath the band of his pants. But before you can get any further, familiar calloused hands stop your own, pulling you away from his skin.
“If you do that, I’m afraid we won’t accomplish what we planned to do tonight,” he says breathlessly.
You are still amazed that such simple touches drive him crazy, but you can’t help but relish in it, because you feel the same anytime Dammon touches you. As if your body can’t get enough.
Tonight might be the night that it does.
“Can you give me your hand?” he asks, and you hear him rustling around with something.
“Of course.”
You offer him your hand and he takes it, turning it palm up and placing a long thin object in your palm. He curls your fingers round it, and when he offers no complaint, you reach up with your other hand to further investigate what it could be.
“It’s the rope I’m going to use,” he informs you as your fingers trail along the braid material. “It’s…This is why we had to wait. I had to find someone who…dealt with these kinds of things.”
You let out a small hum as you run the rope through you hands, and you slowly begin to understand what he means. It’s smoother than any rope you’ve ever used, so smooth in fact that it feels like silk. It’s sturdy too, not too thick but not so thin it will dig uncomfortably into your skin if it gets tight. It’s like it was created for this purpose alone.
And perhaps it was.
You’re no stranger to the more debacuhed happenings in the city. Hells - you’ve been inside Sharess’ Caress. They probably use rope like this in abundance there.
“It’s so…soft,” you say finally, reaching out to offer the rope back to him.
“Yes I…” He trails off for a moment before continuing. “This isn’t supposed to be painful,” he informs you, and you feel the bed dip beside you, his voice shifting to your right side. “It can be of course but…Not tonight. It’s more about the control I suppose. The art of it.”
You nod as you feel a warm hand settle on your hip. “That makes sense. The drawings I saw were beautiful in a way and also…” you trail off, heat creeping into your cheeks. “Let’s just say I was never put off by the idea once I saw it.”
You can hear the way Dammon’s breath catches, his nails digging into the flesh of your hip ever so slightly. “I should have suggested it sooner, it seems.”
You smile, leaning in to where you think his body is. “You should have.”
He lets out a sigh, and you feel the way it brushes against your temple as he speaks.
“Well…We’re here now,” he says, slowly dragging his hand from your hip up your back before settling on your shoulder. “Are you ready for me to start?”
You let out a breath of your own, anticipation bubbling in your veins as you shift in your place, eager to get started. “Yes, I’m ready.”
Slowly and with whispered instructions he guides you so your are on your knees on the bed, sitting on your heels as you face away from him. Once you’re in position his fingers skim up to unhook the clasps of your bra, sliding it gently from your shoulders before tossing it somewhere off to your left.
“If you wanted me naked you could have just said so,” you tease, smiling when it earns youa chuckle from teh man behind you.
“That ruins the fun,” he says, and you finally feel the cool slide of rope against your arms. “This is…a lot of this is about the anticipation,” he tells you, breath ghosting over your ear as he gently guides your arms into position behind your back. “The gentle touches, the slow act of tying the rope, the build of what’s to come…”
He has you bend your arms behind your back, forearms almost crossing as he starts to slide the rope beneath them, wrapping it over just a few times before starting to tie the first knot, securing your arms together.
He continues like that for long agonizing moments. The cool rope sliding against your heated skin as he pulls, tugs, and knots the smooth cord into a masterpiece only he can see. The design soon travels from your forearms upwards above your elbows, as he begins to connect your arms together once more. He threads the rope beneath your right arm, hands ghosting across your back as he brings it over to your left, looping it over your bicep and back again, creating an intricate set of loops and ties that secure your arms behind you further, pulling your shoulders back to just the bare edge of discomfort.
Dammon was right. This is about the anticipation.
Because with each slide of the rope, with each brush of his fingers or ghost of his lips on your skin, you feel a new pang of arousal pool in your core. You shudder with each pass of the cord on your skin, breath hitching with each knot he tugs into place.
And Dammon, who’s never known to keep his hands from you for too long, can’t help but to touch you in between. His sharp nails ghosting along your skin, kisses pressed to your shoulder as he mutters words of praise…you can feel yourself getting wet already, and he’s barely even touched you. Not in the way you desire most, at least.
A whimper slips past your lips when he finally pulls away from you, the last piece of rope in place agasint your arms. But his absence doesn’t last long before he’s back again, his arms snaking around you as a new rope presses against the delicate skin of your lower belly.
“Are you still alright?” he asks, warm breath ghosting over your cheek as his head comes up beside yours to look down at your exposed body. His chin tucks perfectly against your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your cheek, waiting patiently for you to answer before he continues.
When you do find your words, they come out small, a mere gasp on your lips.
“Yes,” you assure him. “I just…wish you would touch me. I didn’t…this is more than i expected.”
You feel him tense behind you, his hands stilling. “We can stop at anytime-”
“No!” you almost shout, leaning back into your lover in a silent plea. “Please, don’t stop. I only meant…I didn’t expect to react so strongly to just this.”
Dammon clicks his tongue, letting out a low hum of understanding as his hands start to move again, the rope sliding softly against your skin.
“If it makes you feel any better…” Dammon trails off, wrapping the rope around your front again, allowing him to press himself against your back, the hardness of him pressing into your low back. “It’s having the same affect on me.”
His words, and the feeling of him hard as steel pressing into your skin is enough to send another bolt of pleasure through you. You expect him to pull away to continue his work, but he does no such thing, instead aiming to stay pressed as close to you as possible as he works on his art.
Each moment feels agonizing as he slowly winds the ropes up your body, fingers braiding and knotting the pieces together, fingers brushing against your skin, but never doing much more.
Your breath leaves you in shallow pants, and you can’t help it when you press your hips back into his own, desperate for any kind of touch, any friction to sooth the ache simmering in your veins.
A small groan leaves Dammons lips, and you feel a small tug the the ropes around your arms. “We’ll get there,” he whispers, leaning down to brush a tender kiss to your shoulder. “You’re doing so well, my love. I’m almost done.”
You fight to hold back the whine that threatens to slip past when his lips retreat from your skin, but you do, instead moving to lean back against him as he looks back over your shoulder once more to see his work.
You can feel the way the cords constrict around you, knotting in the center of your body as it travels upwards and spans out to wrap over your ribs and around your back. Soon enough you can feel them start to settle beneath your breasts. His hands barely brush the plush mounds as he ties a secure knot between them before taking the two ends up and over your collarbones to secure at the back of your neck.
He ties the last knot, a quiet sigh of admiration leaving him as his hands skim over his work, calloused palms ghosting over your skin.
You feel the bed shift, his warmth leaving your back. You wonder for a moment if he’s leaving again, but you continue to feel him move, until you think he settles in front of you on the plush mattress. The bed creaks softly as he settles, and despite the blindfold, you can feel his eyes boring into you, admiring his work much like he does that which he produces in the forge.
Dammon is a lot of things, and a proud man is one of them.
He’s never boastful or arrogant. But he loves his work - he’s always proud of what he can accomplish. And it seems that extends to you as well.
You don’t flinch when his hand settles on your cheek, thumb brushing the skin their gently, as he continues to admire you.
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, his other hand coming up to cup one of your breasts gently.
A gasp slips past your lips as he runs a thumb over the stiff peak of your nipple, nails scratching the sensitive skin deliciously as he pulls away to trail further down your body. He traces the ropes he tied into place, fingers slipping beneath them every now and again to tug gently.
“Is it-“ another gasp interrupts you as his hands slide down to brush over your thighs instead. “Is it everything you imagined?”
Dammon leans forward then, his hands slipping around your hips as his lips fall to your shoulder before trailing down lower to nip sharp teeth at your collar bone.
“It’s even better,” he breathes. “You’re more magnificent than anything my mind could conjure up.”
A moan leaves you as his mouth finally reaches your breast, his teeth scarping against the sensitive swell before taking a pert nipple between his lips.
“Oh, gods…” you gasp, arms tugging at the rope as you instinctively want to reach up to cradle his head in your hands.
But the restraints keep you in place, completely at his mercy as he continues to lavish your skin with praises and gently love bites.
You’re burning up now, blood boiling in your veins and desperate for anything Dammon wishes to give you. Something he seems to sense as both arms move to slip around your back as he gently lowers you to lay back on the bed, his lips traveling lower the whole way.
Your arms are trapped beneath you in this new position, adding to the arousal pooling in your belly as you lay completely open and bare for the man before you.
His teeth tug at the rope around your hips, hands moving to spread your legs so he can settle between them.
“Are you still alright, my love?” He asks, fingers creeping slowly up your inner thighs.
Gods you love him. You really do. But in this moment you want nothing more than for him to ravish you, to tear you completely apart before putting you back together again.
He can be sweet later. Right now, you want him to fuck you.
“Yes, yes, Dammon I’m fine,” you assure him, bucking your hips up into his hands. “Just please…fuck me. I cant wait any longer.”
You would usually be embarrassed by blatantly begging like this, but the feel of Dammons mouth on your wet center removes any and all thoughts but him from your mind.
His tounge parts your folds running up to tease the small bundle of nerves that sends bolts of pleasure through you.
You squirm in Dammon’s steel grip, your back arching as he devours you, his fingers digging into your thighs, nails no doubt going to leave behind evidence of his hold on you come morning.
His name falls from your lips in a lewd prayer, as you buck your hips up into his mouth, seeking more despite the way his tongue moves ravenously against you.
You feel his hands slide up to the rope around your hips, fingers slipping beneath the cord as he uses it to tug you closer to him, as if he wishes to drown in you.
His nose nudges at your clit as his tounge prods your entrance, desperate to taste you, his moans sending vibrations through you that make that coil in your belly pull impossibly taut.
“Fuck,” cry out when he slides one hand to rub expect circles on your clit. “Dammon, I’m close I-“
An expert flick of his fingers cuts off your warning, sending you hurtling over the edge into oblivion as Dammon continues to work you through it.
Incoherent babbles of his name fall from your lips until you finally say back into the bed, chest heaving and legs twitching as Dammon continues to lick at you, certain to leave nothing behind.
You want to push him away, but without the use of your hands, you squeeze your thighs around his shoulders gently, urging him away from you.
He obeys with a small sigh, his hand sliding up your body, as his lips follow suit, leaving a moist trail of kisses in his wake before he’s finally pressing them to the underside of your jaw.
“You’re doing so well, my love,” me mutters against your skin, fingers toying idly with the smooth cord beneath your breasts.
You smile as you turn your head to capture his lips with your own, tasting yourself on his tounge before pulling away just enough to speak.
“Can you…Will you take the blindfold off?”you ask. “I’d like to see you.”
Dammon lets out a low hum, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your lips before reaching up to tug at the silken fabric.
While the sun has long set, the bedroom is still well lit, lanterns and a few candles lighting the space enough for you to need to adjust to the brightness.
You blink a few times, leaning into the hand Dammon places on your cheek as his face comes into focus.
You’ve never seen anything so breathtaking.
His lips are tilted up in that small smile of his, pupils blown wide with lust as he looks down at you. His cheeks are flushed and errant strands of hair fall from his usually well kept style.
You yearn to reach up and tuck them back, to card your fingers through his hair or trace around the base of his horns, but you’re once again reminded of the impossibility of that as your arms tug uselessly at your bindings.
It’s then that you start to recognize the ache in your arms, your hands tingling as they start to fall asleep form their position pinned under you.
You shift beneath Dammon, and he notices immediately, brow furrowing in silent question.
“Does it hurt?” He asks, voice laced with concern.
You shake your head. “No it doesn’t hurt. It just-“ you let out a small chuckle. “I think my hands are falling asleep.”
Dammon nods, and immediately goes to help you sit up, but you stop him with a shake of your head, an idea popping into your head.
“Wait.” You tell him, nodding your chin up towards where he was previously sitting. “Sit back.”
He gives you a curious look, and for a moment he hesitates, but he obeys, scooting back to sit on his heels between your legs.
You notice the hard bulge in his trousers, and any hesitance about your idea flies out the proverbial window.
With less effort than you expected, you manage to roll over onto your stomach, gathering your knees below you enough to raise your ass in the air, presenting yourself to the man behind you.
The sharp intake of breath is enough to tell you that Dammon understands your presentation for what it is. And soon two warm hands settle on your hips, trailing up your sides before coming back down again.
The warmth of him surrounds you soon after, his chest pressed against your back and arms as he leans over you, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulders.
“Are you sure?”
You let out an exasperated sigh, turning your face so it’s no longer pressed against the sheets.
“Dammon I swear to the gods, if you went through all this and don’t fuck me-“
His lips leave yours in an instant, the heat of him disappearing from behind you as you hear the faint rustle of fabric from behind you.
His hands settle on your hips again, nails biting into the skin harsher than before as you feel the head of his cock nudge at your entrance.
You expect him to check in with you again, expect him to ask if you remember your safe word or any amount of other precautions. But he doesn’t.
Instead he presses into you in one swift thrust, his cock guided easily by your earlier orgasm.
But it still never prepared you for the size of him. He always stretches you perfectly, the small ridges and bumps unique to his race adding to the sensation of him sinking into you.
The groan you let out is sinful, and you can’t help but turn to muffle it in the sheets.
But Dammon isn’t having that.
A strong tug in the rope between your arms has you pulling up from the bed, the force of the movement pulling you further back onto him until your hips are flush with his own.
“Don’t hide from me,” Dammon says, tugging at the restraints again, sending him deeper and making the rope dig deliciously into your skin. “I want to hear you.”
“Oh, gods. Dammon…”
His name falling from your lips finally makes him move, pulling out of you before thrusting back in with one solid movement.
Your name falls from his lips as he sets a punishing pace, something so different from the reverent way he worshiped your body earlier.
He curls himself over you, his chest pressed against your back as he plants one hand by your head on the bed, his sharp nails digging deep into the sheets as he holds himself over you.
He nuzzles his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, nose nudging your jaw as he takes your earlobe between his teeth and tugs.
Another whimper escapes your lips as he continues his mind blowing pace, hitting that spot inside you as you writhe against the ropes fully now. Hands clenching and unclenching as you press your hips back into his own, seeking your second release of the night.
“Gods, Dammon, please..”
you're practically sobbing now, tears wetting your lashes at the intense pleasure that courses through you and the slight frustration of not being able to touch anything - touch him.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his free arm wrapping around your hips to hold you to him as he presses you down, further into the bed his cock pressing impossibly deeper inside of you at the change of position.
“Let go for me,” he says, voice sinful in your ear.
His words, and his fingers that slipped down to rub at your clit send you into oblivion for the second time.
You clench around him, crying out his name in a desperate plea as you squirm against him, veins alight with utter pleasure.
Dammon is not far behind you, just a few more stuttered thrusts and he comes in you with a groan of your name from his lips, his chest rumbling against your back as he sinks down into you, breath coming out in short labored breaths against your cheek.
Your mind is blissfully blank as you sink into the plush bedding beneath you, completely boneless as your lover adjusts his weight above you.
You whine when you feel him pull away from you, the room seeming so much cooler without his body next to yours.
“My love…?” His voice feels a million miles away as he brushes a few strands of hair from your sweat soaked forehead before pressing a kiss there. “Are you alright?”
You chuckle, but it comes out hoarse and weaker than intended.
“You just…gave me the best orgasm of my life. I’m more than alright.”
You watch through bleary eyes as Dammon blushes, his earlier dominant demeanor disappearing into the Dammon you know and love.
“I’m going to untie you.”
You nod, trying to help as much as you can in your blissed out state as he helps you to sit up, maneuvering you until you sit straddling his lap so he can more easily work at the ropes.
He moves quickly, fingers deftly untying the intricate knots and letting the ropes fall away from your skin. When he loosens the ropes at your back, your hands fall to your sides, a dull ache running from your shoulders down to the tips of your fingers.
You must have let out some kind of noise or flinched, because as soon as the ropes fall away, Dammon’s hands are on your arms, calloused palms running up and down your arms as he tries to sooth the aches and indentations left behind.
“They were too tight,” he mutters softly. “I’m sorry, my love I-”
You shush him softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips to quiet his concerns. “I’m alright, Dammon. I promise,” you assure him, smiling as he continued to rub at the light indentation marks left by the ropes. “I liked it,” you finally admit. “I really liked it.”
His minstrations pauses momentarily, hands sliding down to wrap around your waist as he pulls back enough to look down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly. “You’re…not just saying that to please me, are you?”
You can’t help the playful groan that you let out, followed by a small chuckle as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest.
“Only you could give a woman the best orgasm of her life and still question whether she liked it,” you tease, practically feeling the way Dammon rolls his eyes at you.
A small squeal escapes you as Dammon wraps his arms around you more securly as he flips you onto your back again, head hitting the pillow as he hovers over your, lips turned upwards playfully.
“If you think that was the best…I think I have more work to do.”
Your brows wing up in surprise, lips aprting slightly as your mind runs wild with the possibilities. “Is that a challenge, you’re proposing?” you ask.
Dammon smiles, humming low in his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to your jaw. “It might be,” he aquecies. “But for now, i’d just like to hold you and maybe run you a bath. If you’d be so inclined.”
Warmth swells in your chest at his words. Even after something most would consider debacuhed, Dammon still manages to be the sweetest thing in the room. You turn and press a quick kiss to his lips before reching up to wrap your arms around his neck.
“I’d Love nothing more.”
He smiles and plops down next to you on the bed, gathering you in his arms as he does so. His chin rests on the top of your head as you nuzzle into his chest, your leg tangling with his own until you’re both settled comfortably against one another.
Comfortable silence fills the space, Dammon trailing light patterns on your back, as you do the same on his chest - both of you just taking a moment to bask in the other's presence. Until Dammon finally speaks up.
“Thank you…for trusting me enough to do this,” he tells you softly, voice gentle.
You nod, moving to slip your arms around his waist, scooting closer to him. “Of course,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you, Dammon.”
You feel his lips press against the crown of your head.
Summary: After a fight with a hag, the rest of the party wakes up to find you still fighting for your life. Astarion feels himself at a loss, afraid and helpless in a way he has never felt before. And it's all your fault.
A/N: Just a gentle reminder that I have not played the game, so in terms of the exact placement on the timeline, it's a little sketchy. Just know that this is well before the events of I Want It All, and we'll call it good. And, as always, PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!
Word Count: 6.2K
If Astarion never saw a hag again, it would be too soon. Just one was more than enough for several lifetimes. The bitch was not only a sore to look at but hit like a brick wall. Even after a full night’s sleep aided by Shadowheart’s magic, he still felt stiff all over.
The rest of camp wasn’t much better. The sun was almost fully overhead by the time everyone stumbled out of their bed rolls. All morning banter was replaced with mumbled greetings and not so subtle groans. Even Lae’zel remained quiet, seemingly too occupied with her own discomfort to comment on the weakness of everyone else.
Astarion counted himself grateful for that. He didn’t think he could endure a lecture on top of an aching back.
“Here we are,” Gale said, a little too cheerfully. “I know last night's excursion was rather strenuous, but if this doesn’t cure what ails you, nothing will. No offense, Shadowheart.”
“I would take offense, but I’m frankly too tired to care,” she countered, dryly.
Gale gave a good natured laugh before handing her a bowl of something hot.
The pout on her face fell away as soon as she took her first bite. The rest weren’t far behind, the low murmur of pain turning to something more pleasant.
Astarion observed, doing his best to push down the bite on envy in his chest. He could eat, technically, but it went right through him, not even granting him the temporary relief of a full stomach. If it didn’t smell appetizing, he wouldn’t mind so much, but it did. Yet another minor torture of his existence.
Eventually Gale did turn his gaze to him, that annoyingly persistent enthusiasm faltering.
“Do you…ah, require a refreshment?”
Deciding to have some fun, Astarion gave him his best seductive smirk.
“Very much,” he purred. “However, if you’re the one offering, I’ll pass. I’ve got someone much more appetizing in mind.”
He turned his head towards your tent, and immediately frowned. You still hadn’t made an appearance. Granted you were always one to rest in, but this was getting ridiculous.
Gale followed his eye line, grimacing as he came to a similar conclusion.
“Might need to hold off on that. They got it pretty rough last night.”
“I’ll go check on them,” Wyll volunteered, pouring a fresh bowl of stew. “If anything will get them out of bed, this will.” He then turned to Astarion, giving him a hard look. “Try to keep your fangs to yourself until they’ve eaten something.”
He answered with a mocking pout. “Oh mother, must I?”
Wyll didn’t raise to the bait, rolling his one good eye before making his way towards your tent.
Something odd twisted inside Astarion. He was struck with the sudden urge to trip the man. Childish perhaps, but he just couldn’t stand that tone of altruistic condescension. He would have spoken up if Wyll hadn’t beaten him to it. He was rather partial to the idea of you and him sharing breakfast in bed. It would only be breakfast, but he wasn’t in a position to try for more. At the very least, it would be a convenient excuse to check on you himself.
Gale hadn’t been exaggerating. You had gotten the brunt of the hag’s attention, running between everyone to provide whatever aid you could. By the time you made it back to camp, you could barely stand, skipping your nightly check-ins in favor of falling straight into your tent and a soundless sleep.
This troubled him in a way he couldn’t properly explain. It wasn’t like he needed you to tuck him in, but he had grown accustomed to your face being the last he saw before closing his eyes. He knew the others appreciated it as well. It was how you had found yourself as the leader of this merry band. You weren’t the strongest or the most powerful, you simply took the time to care.
It should have bothered him more. Gods knew he clashed with Wyll and Karlach on more than one occasion concerning their bleeding heart heroics. Perhaps it was because your heart always put the party first. You’d extend it to others, but never to the point it needlessly put them and, more importantly, him in danger.
You just…helped, with clear eyed understanding and so little fanfare it made it easy to forget just how much you did, until the moment you couldn’t.
He blinked hard, mentally yanking himself from wherever his mind was leading him.
He wouldn’t feed on you today, he decided. There had to be some boar or deer around. It’d be best if they stay put another day anyhow. No need to rush into the next life or death scenario.
“Shadowheart! Gale!”
Everyone turned, to see Wyll running from your tent. The two spellcasters were up the next second, all exhaustion rushing from their bodies, readying for a fight.
“What’s going on?” Gale asked.
“I don’t know. Something’s wrong with Tav.”
“What? How?” Shadowheart interjected. “They were fine last night. I healed them myself.”
Wyll shook his head. “That may be, but they’re not waking up.”
“We better have a look then,” Gale said, with an authority that left no room for argument. He took the lead, the two others falling quickly behind.
Astarion stayed where he was, frozen. There was a hard twisting in his gut. He could feel the hair rise on the back of his neck as the sudden need to run shot through his veins. He recognized the symptoms; fear was an emotion he was intimately familiar with.
Before he realized what was happening, he was on his feet, taking long strides towards your tent.
It couldn’t be as bad as Wyll was making it sound. Admittedly, you had been run rather ragged, but nothing the rest of them hadn’t felt. Perhaps he had taken one bite too many. This was nothing. You were fine. You were supposed to be fine.
He stopped at the threshold, pushing aside the flap.
Whatever breath he had in his lungs rushed out in an instant.
The first thing that hit him was the smell. It clung to the inside of his nose reeking of damp sickness. Your body was drenched in sweat, your hair plastered to your forehead in soaked clumps. He swore he could feel the heat of your skin burning. Your breath came ragged as if someone had wrapped an invisible hand around your throat and was slowly choking the life out of you. He could see how your body twitched and jerked. It was taking both Shadowheart and Wyll to keep your limbs in check as Gale mumbled some enchantment over your body.
His hand gripped hard on the fabric. He needed to take a step back. He had little experience with disease, but it was plain enough that whatever this was didn’t play by any rules he was familiar with. The survivor in him screamed to use this perfect distraction to grab whatever he could carry and run. Still, he didn’t move.
“What’s wrong with them?” he said, his voice rough even to his ears.
“I don’t know,” Gale admitted, clearly disturbed. “I haven’t seen anything like this before.”
“They were fine,” Shadowheart insisted. “I healed them, and they went to bed. Nothing else happened.”
“There were a lot of spells being thrown around last night. Maybe they were hit with something the rest of us weren’t,” Wyll suggested.
“Oh Gods,” Karlach said, just behind Astarion’s shoulder. “Do you think it’s the tadpoles?”
Something heavy sunk straight into his stomach at her words. It certainly was a possibility. They all knew the symptoms, but why now? Why you?
There was a slight rustle of movement just behind him. Lae’zel by the smell. A quick look out of the corner of his eye saw her standing just behind Karlach. Her back was stiff and her expression hardened in a way he had come to recognize.
He never moved faster in his life.
Before anyone could react, he ducked under Karlach’s arm, knocking Lae’zel off her feet. Her sword scattered clear of her grip, skittering into the grass. She fell with a hard thump as he used the momentum to trap her under the weight of his body and dagger at her throat.
“Now, what were you planning to do with that,” he said, as smooth as a knife.
Her surprise was evident, but quickly overtaken by a low growl straight from her chest.
“Unhand me, or I will unhand you.”
“Might need the sword for that.”
“Oi! What’s going on?” Karlach said, finally turning towards the scene.
“If it is the tadpoles, we cannot risk them turning,” Lae’zel snapped. “I am prepared to do what is necessary.”
Red blinded Astarion’s vision, a hiss escaping his lips as they pulled back to show bared fangs.
“Necessary?”
“We don’t know that yet,” Wyll said, stepping beside Karlach. “Just think a moment. If it was the tadpoles, wouldn’t all of us have felt something by now?”
Lae’zel ignored him, her eyes turning straight to Astarion’s. Her expression lost none of its fury, but there was a coldness to it that forced an air of calm.
“You know I’m right,” she held.
His jaw clenched. He did know. If even one of them turned into a mind flayer the rest were bound to follow. Killing you would be the logical thing to do to preserve his own survival. Still, it wasn’t your neck he was poised to cut.
“Nobody is killing anyone!” Wyll interjected. “Gale and Shadowheart will figure out what’s wrong with Tav. In the meantime, we are not going to do anything we would sooner regret.”
“Astarion?” Karlach said, cautiously.
There was a long pause. He could feel their eyes burning the back of his skull, but neither stepped closer. It was easy to imagine what he looked like; half crazed, teeth bared and blade ready. Not his best moment.
With what grace he could muster, he pulled away, quickly putting some distance between himself and Lae’zel.
She got to her feet, decidedly not reaching for her weapon as her eyes moved between the three of them.
“They live for now,” she allowed. “But if Tav does turn, you know what we’ll have to do.”
Astarion’s spine stiffened. The dagger twitched in his hand, just in time for Karlach to step between them.
“Walk away Lae’zel,” she said, sternly. “I’m not kidding.”
Lae’zel’s brow furrowed, her face twisting in disgust. “Tsk'va,” she cursed. “Cowards. All of you.”
She turned then, picking up her sword before making her way back to her tent.
Once she was a good distance away, some of the tension left Karlach’s shoulders as she pulled her attention back to him.
“You okay?” Karlach asked.
“Well, I certainly haven’t made any new friends,” Astarion said, his voice tighter than he intended. He glanced over at Wyll. “I take it still no answers?”
Wyll gave a long sigh. “Gale said he’ll need more time to detect the exact cause. He doesn’t think it’s the tadpoles, but there’s no telling just yet. Luckily, Shadowheart was able to calm them enough to sleep. At the very least they’re no longer at risk of hurting themselves.”
“So what do we do?” Karlach asked.
“Wait. This isn’t something we can fight. Gale and Shadowheart will do what they can, but ultimately, this is Tav’s battle.”
Astarion bit back a growl as red once again danced across his vision.
Wait? That was the fabled Blade of Frontier’s brilliant plan? Hells below was everyone in this camp completely useless?! He didn’t need to be a cleric to know what was happening. He knew what dying smelled like and none of them, not a single one, could think of an actual, tangible solution besides wait?
Forget tripping the man, it was taking every single ounce of restraint to keep from strangling him.
Draining the last of his patience, he turned on his heel, and made his way towards the treeline.
“Where are you going?” Wyll called.
“To go kill something,” Astarion spat. “Unless you want me to stay here and do it.”
Wyll looked like he was going to say something that would put his neck in Astarion’s teeth, but Karlach spoke up first.
“We’ll make sure Lae’zel keeps her distance. Don’t wander too far.”
Astarion didn’t have an answer. He just managed a tight nod before continuing out of camp and out of sight.
He didn’t know how long he walked. He just knew that by the time he stopped the sun was much lower in the sky. The sounds of his companions deafened in the overgrowth leaving him well and truly alone.
A shuddering breath escaped his lungs. Whatever strength in his limbs left him. He only just managed to catch himself on a tree as his hands began to shake.
What in the nine hells had he been thinking?
Well, that was the trick, wasn’t it? He hadn’t been thinking. Fear had been driving him and he had done as he always did when fear took over; he found a way to survive, damn anyone who got in his way. The difference was, it wasn’t his life that was in danger. When had your survival become so vital to his?
He knew he was reliant on you to keep him safe from Cazador. You were the only one who trusted him. Without your vote of confidence, chances are he would have been left to his own devices a long time ago. He needed you alive if he were to maintain the protection of the others. And he had put that protection in direct threat by holding a knife to one of the group’s best fighters.
He let out a frustrated groan, rubbing his face in his hands.
Fuck, this was a disaster. He had never been particularly gifted when it came to strategy. It was difficult to anticipate consequences when he never knew what fresh hell awaited him in the morning. Compound that feeling by two hundred years and it was no wonder all his plans fell apart.
Even if you did survive, he still had no way of guaranteeing you would stay loyal to him. All his attempts at seduction had failed. You certainly enjoyed his company, and he was sure you gave him more attention than the others, but he didn’t know what you wanted. Every single day he waited for you to name your price and every single day you failed to answer. It was driving him to insanity.
No wonder he had been so quick to draw his blade. Any grasp he had on safety was already hanging by an invisible thread.
He let out a deep breath, forcing himself to calm. There was little he could control at the moment, but he could control himself. It was a new sensation, one he was still getting used to. He’d have an easier time of it once he fed.
Blood of thinking beings was out for the moment. He’d have to settle for something big and preferably angry. There would be nothing elegant about this hunt.
He got his wish. While he might have preferred a bear, the raging boar did well enough for his purposes.
It was an ugly kill. He didn’t just bite the beast. He tore into its neck so deeply the bones of its neck became exposed to the open air alongside bloodied muscle. His hands did the rest, ripping it fully open so the innards spilled out onto the forest floor. In the end, he didn’t even get much blood out of it, allowing the earth to become wet with carnage.
He breathed it in, hoping it would somehow erase the smell of your convulsing body from his mind.
It didn’t work.
Even with fresh blood in his mouth, he could only think of your labored breaths and racing heart. The relief of sated hunger became tainted by the taste of sickness on his tongue.
He forced himself back on his feet, not bothering to wipe away the blood as he stumbled further into the forest.
There was nothing he could do. He’d sooner drain the life from you than save it. It was baked into his nature; a disease in his own right.
If he just had a target, something he could trick or kill, it would be different. Instead he was left to wait; useless…powerless.
His hands clenched, his nails digging into his palms to the point of pain.
Surely he didn’t need you so badly. If you died, he would just have to refocus his efforts on somebody else; Shadowheart perhaps, or even Gale. He wasn’t about to get sentimental now. He would survive you as he had done countless others. This wasn’t his end.
He found a deer next, performing the same ritualistic slaughter. Blood filled him. He could feel his mind becoming clear, but it wasn’t enough. He moved onto a burrow of rabbits, then a badger, and even a weasel. It was only when he caught himself seriously contemplating gutting a squirrel did he realize how futile it was. All the blood in the world couldn’t make up for his inherent weakness.
He had grown too dependent on you. It was making him sloppy, unbalanced. Maybe you were better off dead. He would be free then.
That was the point of this whole venture wasn’t it? To be free. Free of Cazador. Free of fear. And here he was ready to chain himself to another just because they’d shown him a bit of kindness. What was that kindness worth when the loss of it inspired a terror he'd never known before.
A fury rose within him, one he clung to like a lifeline.
This was all your fault. You brought him to this. How could he possibly forgive you?
He let the anger fester as he took the time to clean himself up. Blood caked his hands up to his elbows with tendons stuck under his fingernails. It took several washes in a nearby stream to get it all out. He counted himself lucky his shirt had managed to escape most of the viscera. The last thing he wanted was an interrogation.
He needn’t have worried. It was well after dark by the time he crept back to camp. All was still, in the same way a body became when holding its breath.
He spotted Gale easily enough as he poured over some tome, his lips moving along with the words. Lae’zel and Wyll sat together, polishing their weapons without exchanging a word. Shadowheart looked to be meditating while Karlach sat next to the fire, brow furrowed while throwing the occasional stick into the flames.
Aside from the faint scrap of stone on metal, not a sound came from any of them.
Against his own will, his gaze turned to your tent.
It struck him then, why the quiet filled him with such dread.
By now a steady flow of strings should be teasing the edge of his ears. You seemed convinced a half inch of fabric was enough to muffle your rehearsals. None of them bothered to correct this assumption. On more than one occasion, he found himself forgetting the book in his hand as he listened to you work out some new melody. There was something about the way you played, as if each note lifted a burden on your soul. And if the night wasn’t filled with your music, it was touched by your voice.
You had a way of sparking conversation, sharing countless stories while encouraging the others to do the same. You knew when to listen, when to comment and just when to laugh to make the telling all the sweeter. He spent more time than he cared to admit thinking about how to pull that sound to your lips. He found it had the same effect on him as your plucking.
Then there were the rare times, when banter dwindled and everyone became lost in their own thoughts, he could make out a song just under your breath, an unconscious hum to accompany your work.
It brought a comfort he couldn’t describe, one he hadn’t realized he needed, until it was gone.
With quick steps he made his way to you, slipping into your tent with not even the barest rustle of fabric.
He’d never been in your tent before. If it were any other day, he’d be taking the time to examine every inch of it, but all he could focus on was you.
You were so still. An improvement from before, but not an especially encouraging one. It was clear from the perfectly arranged pillows you hadn’t moved since Shadowheart put you back to sleep. The only hint you were alive was that barest intake and outtake of breath.
His jaw tightened, his body tensing as a growing panic rose within him.
No, this was good. You were stable, for now. He still had options, more time to plan. He didn’t have to make any decisions tonight. Best he left and waited to see what the morning would bring.
You took a sharp intake of breath, slightly deeper than before. Your eyes twitched behind your lids and then you settled.
He paused, glancing to the entrance, half expecting somebody to come rushing in. He was surprised nobody was in here with you, or at the very least watching the door. He had slipped by without so much as a “hey you”. Any vagrant could just wander in.
He could end it right now. All it would take was one quick slice. The picture became clear; a single surprised gasp, the smell of your blood and then…silence. Forever.
Bile rose in his throat. He shut his eyes trying to will the image away as that new desperate terror threatened to drown him all over again.
Damn you. Damn you to every circle of the hells!
The gods were mocking him. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. He couldn’t just like you. No, he had to go and start caring.
A small whimper broke through his thoughts. Your head jerked, your brows pinching in distress.
Shadowheart. He needed to get Shadowheart, or Gale, or Wyll. Hells, she may not be able to touch you, but Karlach would undoubtedly have a better bedside manner. Besides Lae’zel he was the worst person suited for this. Gods, what was he even doing here?
You took a sharp intake of breath, flinching away from something only you could see.
He was on his knees the next second.
Your body settled, but your breathing came hard and fast. At least it wasn’t rasping.
His hands hovered over you, unsure of what to do. He had officially given up on the idea of leaving. He’d just have to improvise the rest.
Hesitantly, he let his fingers brush across your forehead, pushing aside a few of the loose strands. You were hot to the touch, but he took comfort in the fact you weren’t sweating as you were before. Whatever had taken hold of you that morning, it seemed to have loosened its grip.
You began to calm, a soft murmur of contentment stumbling from your lips.
The irony was not lost on him, but it didn’t stop a part of him from melting at the sound.
“Now that’s hardly playing fair, darling,” he whispered. “I’m trying to be angry with you.”
You didn’t answer except for a sigh as you turned your head, following his touch.
He allowed himself to linger for a moment before placing the back of his hand against your skin to feel it properly. You really were much too warm. The relief you were expressing no doubt came more from his body temperature than his caresses.
Slowly, he pulled away as he glanced around the small space. There had to be a water skin in here somewhere. Surely the idiots would know better than to leave you to burn yourself from the inside out.
A soft groan caught his attention as he spun back to you.
You shifted under the blankets, rolling back and forth as if to get loose of your cocoon. Your eyes darted quickly behind your lids. Another huff of breath and then, all at once, there you were.
“Tav?” he breathed.
Your eyes were bleary. Your skin was sallow. Your hair was a mess. Everything around him smelled of sweat and sick. And for a moment, he swore he could feel his heart beat again.
A hint of a smile touched the corner of your mouth, your brows rising slightly.
“Tav? Must be pretty bad then.”
He had to laugh. It was a short, strangled thing, and just about the only thing he could do to keep the stinging in his eyes at bay.
“Worse,” he said, managing to gain some hold on himself. “Of course, it must be said, your worse is most best.”
You huffed out a small laugh of your own, which quickly turned into a series of dry coughs.
He straightened in alarm before quickly spotting the water skin hanging on the center pole of the tent. Thankfully it was full, allowing him to waste no time lifting your head as he guided the water into your mouth.
As soon as the liquid met your tongue you scrambled for more, pushing yourself further up to guzzle the rest.
“Easy,” he warned, pulling back the container. “Can’t have you choking to death after all of that.”
You gave a slight sputter, proving his point as you caught your breath. “Sorry. Just thirsty.”
“Clearly,” he quipped. “Do you need more?”
You averted your eyes, your expression turning suddenly sheepish. “Please?”
As tempting as it was, he decided to save his teasing for later. It was always more fun when you could give it right back anyway.
He lifted your head, resting it on his lap before guiding the lip of the lid back to yours.
“Slowly this time,” he cautioned.
Your muscles tensed with restraint, but you followed his lead, taking no more than he gave.
He tried to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. His mind flickered to his own thirst and, for a moment, he could see his own desperation reflected in your eyes.
Something stirred inside him; an ache he didn’t recognize. He’d do just about anything to keep that look from marring your face ever again.
Once you’d gotten a few more mouthfuls he pulled the water skin away, setting it down on the floor beside you.
“Thank you,” you said, your voice still a little rough, but an obvious improvement.
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “To anyone.”
“Don’t worry, nobody would believe me anyway,” you teased.
“Truer words.”
Without really thinking, he let his palm rest on your forehead. He had already gotten a sense of your temperature, but the way your eyes closed as you relaxed into his touch was too good to pass up.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like a band of goblins decided to make a riot of my insides,” you admitted, before turning your gaze upward. “What about you?”
“Me?”
Your mouth turned in an apologetic half smile. “No offense, but you look a bit ragged. Did something happen?”
He blinked, surprised by the sudden flash of anger your question inspired. Of course he was a bit ragged. You had started this morning on the verge of death, the knowledge of which had been torturing him for near on…oh, who bloody cared how long. And yet you had the audacity to ask if something happened, as if that wasn’t enough; as if you weren’t enough.
It must have shown on his face, as your brows furrowed in concern.
“Astarion?”
He mentally shook himself, pushing down the emotion as best he could.
“Don’t worry about me, darling. Let’s focus on getting you better.”
You frowned, your lips parting as if to say something when the entrance of the tent burst open.
“Hey, thought I heard your voice!” Karlach said, with a beaming smile. “Good to see you awake soldier. Told’em you’d bounce back, just a matter of time. Shadowheart! Gale! Tav’s awake! Astarion is with ‘em.”
Astarion prickled at the announcement. He didn’t need the entire camp knowing his business. He had decided to sneak back for a reason. Surely nobody had seen him.
He got his answer, as Karlach turned back, lowering her voice.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “Noticed you slip in earlier. Thought I’d leave you to watch Tav, but then I heard talking and well…you know.”
“Yes, thank you,” he clipped, hoping the note of embarrassment would be blamed on getting caught and not…other things.
“Thanks Karlach,” you said, smoothing over any lingering tension.
“Don’t even think about it. Few more rounds of healing and you’ll be right as rain.” She then turned her gaze to him. “You got’em?”
His brow furrowed slightly. He could say no. Gale and Shadowheart would need space to do their work. It would be the perfect excuse to walk away and try to forget any of this happened.
He glanced down at you, your head still resting in his lap.
You looked so fragile. It was a word he had never thought to use before when describing you. The sound of it rang with a dissonance that made his hair stand on end. Still you managed a half smile, your head tilting as silent permission to leave if he wanted.
And what exactly would he do if he left; wait in the dark, just as helpless as before. He may not be able to do much, but he could do this. It was better than nothing.
He turned back to Karlach, his purpose clear. “I’ve got them.”
She didn’t say anything back, simply nodding in acknowledgement before dipping out, and allowing Shadowheart and Gale to enter.
Shadowheart immediately took a place beside you, her hands glowing with magic as she got to work. Gale, meanwhile, remained standing seemingly unsure of what to do.
Astarion couldn’t help but notice the way the wizard’s eyes shifted awkwardly between you and him. Some petty part of him felt vindicated in staying. Apparently he had taken his designated spot.
“Glad to see you awake,” Shadowheart said.
“So am I, funny enough,” you said. “What happened?”
“Nasty bit of business,” Gale explained. “That hag didn’t hold anything back. Combination of cause fear, ray of sickness, a few other bits of spell work and bestowed curse to keep them all knotted together. The healing magic Shadowheart gave you last night was able to mend your physical wounds, but little else.
“Luckily once we were able to identify the spells, I was able to untangle most of the effects and pluck that curse right out. All told, it looked much worse than it was. With the hag dead, it appears your body has been able to fight off most of the remaining effects on its own. Honestly, if you were at full capacity at the start of the fight, it likely wouldn’t have gotten as bad as it did. Much easier to recover when all your blood is inside your body.”
Gale’s eyes flicked over to Astarion.
His jaw clenched, knowing full well what the wizard was implying, but he wasn’t about to admit he was right.
“I’ll keep that in mind next time I take an arrow to the shoulder,” you said, dryly. “Just don’t bleed.”
Shadowheart gave a short laugh. “Good to see your sense of humor is intact.”
Astarion and Gale broke eye contact allowing whatever argument was about to ensue to die on their lips. There were more important things to worry about.
“What can I say, I’m a born entertainer,” you said, ruefully before turning your gaze evenly among the three of them. “I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” Gale assured. “When compared to Karlach’s engine or my own condition, this is little more than a sniffle.” He glanced over to Shadowheart. “Anything I can do?”
“Honestly, there’s not much even I can do at this point,” she admitted. “We’ll just have to see how you feel in the morning. One of us should stay with you at least, in case something happens.”
“I’ll do it,” Astarion said, earning shocked looks from both spellcasters. He did so particularly love the look on Gale’s face.
“You’re sure?” Gale said, skeptically.
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’m not planning to sleep much anyway. And don’t worry, I’m just as capable of yelling as anyone else in this camp. Besides, I doubt either of you are going to be much use to anyone in a few hours.”
Gale looked like he wanted to argue, but not before you spoke up.
“He has a point,” you said. “The pair of you have done enough as is. I’m feeling a lot better already. I’ll be fine.”
“Alright,” Gale relented, with a grimace. “There’s some stew in that container there if you get hungry. See if you can keep some food down. And if they so much as twitch in their sleep–”
“I’ll handle it,” Astarion cut off with a sharpness that left no room for dispute.
Gale appeared taken aback. So did Shadowheart for that matter, but Astarion couldn’t bring himself to care. You had in a very polite, roundabout way told them to leave. His job was to make it clear how much better that would be for everyone’s health.
Both Gale and Shadowheart got the message, ducking out without another word.
Astarion waited, counting down a solid minute to make sure nobody else would come barging in. Only when he was certain they were gone did he finally allow his body to relax.
“You don’t have to stay.”
He pulled his attention back to you, his brows furrowing.
“I really am feeling a lot better,” you insisted. “I’ll be alright.”
His instinct was to argue. He wasn’t in the mood for any more quiet heroics from you, but something in your eyes gave him pause.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked.
“I…” You swallowed. The emotion in your voice was clear even from that one word. “You don’t–”
“Do you want me to go?” he repeated.
For a long moment, you didn’t say a word.
He waited for the predictable guilt to appear, an obvious sign of your irritating selflessness with maybe an apology thrown in on the side. There were hints of it, yes, but something else lingered, moving across your features despite your best efforts to bury it away.
“No,” you confessed, with a yearning deeper than he felt he had any right to know.
He thought back on what you told him, the bits and pieces you shared about your life. It was never obvious, just comments that slipped through, as if by accident.
You didn’t know your mother. Your father was little more than a memory. You never mentioned any siblings. A flurry of names and faces filled your stories from across Faerun, but they never stayed the same between tellings. Now that he gave it proper thought, he couldn’t think of a single one of them you had named friend.
He had to wonder how many nights you suffered through a fever alone, how many times you bandaged your own wounds and kept your own company on long nights in the middle of nowhere.
You hadn’t given him permission to go out of the kindness of your heart. You had expected him to. You just wanted to give yourself the illusion of control over when.
And yet, you asked him to stay.
“Well, that settles it,” he soothed. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Your lips parted as if to say something more, but you closed it again swallowing the words back down.
He counted himself grateful. He was liable to say any number of foolish things if you let him.
Slowly, your eyes began to droop as sleep overcame you once more.
As promised, he didn’t move, not daring to so much as shift your head.
Maybe…maybe this was your price. He couldn’t be sure. He doubted he would ever be sure of anything with you, but maybe this was what you wanted; somebody to care.
It was a dangerous notion. He had never provided anything real before. The concern he felt for you now was against his will. If he started caring for you on purpose, who knew where that might lead; the things he would be willing to do, all for you.
He blinked the thought away. He was getting ahead of himself. A little went a long way, especially with you. Honestly, it would be almost too easy; a kind word here, a helpful hand there, and he would have you curled around his finger in no time. It wasn’t so different from what he had done before. All he needed to do was not care anymore than he already did. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He could stop any time he wanted.
It was the thought that kept him through the night, the one he repeated to himself as he came as close to holding you as he dared.
For anyone worried about missing anything in BG3 or replaying the game and wanting to find something they missed there’s a ton of checklists available online and I’m just gonna post the ones I’ve been using for all the acts in case anybody else wants to reference them!
Act 1 of 'Baldur's Gate 3' can take dozens of hours to complete, with a multitude of sidequests and activities. Here's everything you need t
Act 2 in 'Baldur's Gate 3' is a massive undertaking, with a lot of hidden quests and details. Here's everything you'll want to do in the Sha
Act Three is jam-packed with quests for you to complete.
Don't miss any Act 3 side quest and secret available in Baldur's Gate 3 with this guide.
Summary: Halsin is looking a bit tense, Tav offers to massage his muscles and relieve his tension in the best way she can. He wants to return the offer to help relieve her as well.
"I never felt my heart stir like this before you, I haven't loved in so long, and yet there it was...and I was in it.”
-> Part 2 <-
TW: none for part1
Note: needed some big-boy energy. This will be an explicit two-parter so ;p enjoy.
It was one hell of a day, everyone nearly dragged themselves into their tents for a well-deserved rest. Recently their travels have been getting harder and harder as they inch close to Buldars Gate. But no matter, the party seemed to try to keep their cool with Halsin’s and Shadowheart’s healing. Sometimes it was just too much though.
Tav sat by the fire with Karlach, who was rubbing her neck, “All that healing couldn’t get the crook out of this fucking neck. I’ve taken weaker hits that hurt less than this.”
“I agree, we’re all walking zombies at this point. Maybe we should take a break tomorrow. We all look like shit.” Tav laid her back on the floor and stretched her limbs out. Just as she sat back up her glance catches Halsin. He was walking by to pick up some food rations, an apple, and placed it in his mouth before walking away.
“Gods what I would do to that man…He makes me look small.” Karlach let out a small sigh of passion. She then looked at Tav who was lost in thought, “Hey, Soldier! Are you admiring our Druid, hm?” She nudged Tav’s shoulder with a smirk.
“He just looks…tense is all.” She rubbed her shoulder that Karlach nudged and hid her smile a little.
“Cmon you’re totally into him! Have you not laid in bed with him yet? I thought you guys were close..maybe even a little too close. Buuut— if it doesn’t work out for you let me know. I’d love to have a go with him.” Karlach giggled and nodded, “I’m serious, go talk to him.”
“And say what? What if he’s tired and doesn’t want visitors. He didn’t even say a word to us.” Tav was visible flushed. A nervous wreck even.
“Shit I don’t know! Make something up. You did say he looked tense. Touch some of those muscles in the name of help. You’re catching my drift?” She winked and pointed at his tent, “hurry before he falls asleep.”
“Karlach you’re a fucking genius. I’ll be back.”
“Or not.” Karlach chimed and sat up, “I’m heading to bed, don’t enjoy yourself too much, soldier.” Karlach reached out her hand for Tav’s and pulled her up to her feet. “Good luck.” Karlach ruffled up Tav’s hair before heading to her tent.
Tav palmed down her fly-aways before holding her head high. Karlach was right, they were close but they never took it to the next level. Why? She wasn't quite sure why, all she knew was that it was time to have courage. She wiped her sweaty palms on her shirt and made her way to his tent.
"Halsin, you there?" Tav pulled the draped curtains to the side. She saw him placing ointment on a couple scratches on his arms.
His eye darted up and he gave a surprised look, "Oh, Tav..I'm sorry, I would've cleaned up a bit. I wasn't expecting company. Please come in." His tent was littered with books, potions, and random old letters from the grove.
"Do not worry about that but—“ She welcomed herself in and kneeled down next to him. "Let me help you with this." She grabbed the small jar of ointment and started to smear any cuts she could find on his arms.
"You're too kind. I would not have bothered you with something small like this. I appreciate it all the same, thank you." He sat still and did not even budge to the pain at first,
Tav nodded her head. This was no trouble at all, after all, she really did care for his well-being. "If you don't mind, it'd be easier to get all these cuts without this shirt." She tugged on the hem of his shirt.
"Of course, little one." He grabbed the edge of his shirt and lifted his arms up. His muscles were immaculate as always, the sweet scent of eucalyptus wafted off him, and she could see all the untouched cuts. Some were deep, small, and even healed. Bruises of all kinds of healing stages were scattered on his skin.
"Halsin! You know these could get infected right? If you needed help it wouldn't be a problem!" Her face was angered. Her eyebrows furrowed, and the sight was nothing short of hurt.
"I'll manage." he patted her head and smiled softly at her. As if he wasn't in any kind of pain.
Tav shook her head, she was visibly angry, "You're so stubborn, allow me." She reached out her hand and placed it over his cheek, "I want to help you."
"You've helped me enough. I'll forever be in your debt if you keep going like this." Halsin stared with loving eyes. His gaze was soft and warm, and a gentle smile crept on his lips. His eyes sparkled with the joy of being in her presence, and he looked at her with admiration and affection.
"Then you'll just have to make it up to me one day." Tav pulled away her hand, "Now, let's see this back." She adjusted herself to face his back. Tav continued to aid his cuts, and from time to time he winced to the pain. "You know Halsin. Back at home, I dabbled in some medicinal skills."
"Oh really? This is news to my ears, tell me more, dear." Halsin perked up. He loved educating and learning new knowledge to add to his collection of skills. This definitely peaked his interest because Halsin never knew Tav had medicine skills since she was a fighter.
"Well— my people believed that healing was more than just potions. It's important to take care of your muscles and physique." She rubbed her hands together to create friction. She placed the warmth of her palms against his back. Tav began to lightly press pressure into his skin with long slow strokes. "This'll help reduce tension, improve circulation, and relieve any pain. I can definitely feel how tense your muscles are."
Halsin let out small little groans of relief as Tav's fingers glided up and down his spine. She started to apply a little more pressure and could feel his muscles start to loosen up. Halsin was truly all muscle, she's never touched a man with so much density, not for medical reasons and definitely not intimately. For as much as Tav was in awe, she genuinely tried her best to relax him. He deserved it after all. He did not need to leave his home in the name of aiding Tav. She was grateful for Halsin as much as he was grateful for her.
Her hands glided up and rubbed the muscles of his neck. Halsin could feel her breathing against his neck, it felt like hot little prickles that hit the skin. Halsin shivered in response. Tav noticed the goosebumps along his neck, "Does that feel good?" She whispered innocently in the back of his ear. The heat of her breath tickling his skin.
Halsin leaned his head outward to expose more skin, "Mmm, it isn't as merely as good as a healing spell." He complimented Tav. But under his relaxed facade, Halsin was melted with every touch from her warm hands. He was trying to find restraint in himself as an Arch-druid after all. He tried to close his eyes in an attempt to calm down his racing heart, but it only made it worse. He felt like he could feel and smell the presence of Tav. Lewd thoughts crumbled his mind and it made his skin crawl more. As a druid, all his senses were heightened, and the feeling for more clouded his judgment.
Tav noticed the small groans, his skin layered with goosebumps, and felt like his shoulders tensed up once again. She went back to work to massage him some more until she pulled away, and decided to sit in front of him instead. "Let me see your hand?" She said softly as she reached out for one of his hands and rubbed them lovingly.
His hand was way bigger than hers. She thought it was cute how mighty he was, yet how gentle his personality was. Tav thought Halsin was probably touched by the gods themselves with the way he looked. He was truly a masterpiece, a muse. As she rubbed his hands Halsin suddenly intertwined his fingers with hers, stopping Tav from massaging him. Tav's cheeks lit up crimson, and she darted her wide eyes at his gaze. He was holding her hand, one that engulfed her own but she felt so protected by it.
Halsin looked at the woman with an intense gaze, his eyes hazel eyes softened. He was captivated by her beauty, taking in every detail of her face and scars. His heart was pounding in his chest as he thought of all the amazing moments they had shared together. He had such strong feelings of love for her, and he knew deep down that she was the one for him. He was filled with a sense of contentment and joy just being in her presence, and he looked forward to what the future held for them. "I never felt my heart stir like this before you, I haven't loved in so long, and yet there it was...and I was in it. I hope you feel the same, I fear the most these days." He grabbed both her hands and placed a tender kiss on them. "I want to repay your kindness, only if you'll allow me, of course."
Tav eagerly agreed to Halsin's offer, she too felt a connection and a strong mutual attraction. She was a woman who would never take Halsin's love for granted, "I feel the same, Halsin...I'd be happy too."
He smiled and placed a single kiss on her lips. It was tender and gentle, sadly it lasted only a moment before he pulled away, "Meet me at my tent tomorrow night and I will grant you a night of pleasure. One that you'll remember for all your long nights. I want to make you feel good too, my heart."
Facts about Rolan you might have missed, while you were busy saving the world
Spoilers for Baldur’s Gate 3 below!
Here’s a collection of some Rolan facts you may have missed during your playthrough. (These are all from memory, so I will edit this later with sources and exact quotes.)
He is not related by blood to Cal and Lia - You can find this information by speaking with his corpse. All three of them consider each other family, but Rolan seems to hold some insecurities about his position with his siblings. In the same conversation, he mentions having “no one” when asked if he has family and that he identifies as “Rolan, just Rolan” - potentially implying that he’s been abandoned or rejected by his blood family, if they’re alive.
Cal considers Rolan an older brother - If Rolan dies during his rescue attempt in Act 2, Cal confesses that Rolan is his “older brother” and “the person he looks up to the most”.
Rolan loves organizing things - He has overhead dialogue with his siblings where he jokes about wanting an organized, color-coded sock drawer.
You can try to convince Rolan to leave his siblings behind at the grove - Try to convince him to leave Lia behind, and he will admit she’s a pain sometimes, but he could never leave her, not even for his prestigious apprenticeship.
Rolan’s diary changes depending on if his siblings live or die - Self-explanatory. He obviously becomes much more depressed and angry if you fail to save his siblings.
Rolan and his siblings have known each other since Cal was at least eight - They have overhead dialogue where Cal mentions that, when he was eight, Rolan once conjured a cat for him, only for him to find out it was made of fire.
It’s implied that Rolan, Cal, and Lia share a mother figure - If Lia dies, Cal has dialogue with Rolan about throwing a party in memorial for her, “like [they] did for mum”.
Rolan, Cal, and Lia have unique dialogue depending on which of them die - This is self-explanatory, but you can see most of the scenes here. He also appears to have unique dialogue coded in act 3 depending on if he’s angry with you or not (if you disrespected Cal and Lia’s memories by calling them Carl and Liam), but I haven’t been able to trigger it yet.
Lorroakan hates to admit it, but Rolan is more powerful than him - Speak with Lorroakan’s corpse after killing him and having Rolan side with you. He will begrudgingly admit that his apprentice is more powerful than him. Side note, it can be implied that Lorroakan never calls Rolan by his name, as he defaults to “tiefling” or “boy” in their few interactions.
If Rolan has a high enough initiative in the Lorroakan fight, he will use Thunderwave to shove Lorroakan off the tower. Peak revenge.
Some of Rolan’s spells have his name in front of them (Rolan’s Thunderwave, Rolan’s Mage Armor) - Some people have headcannoned this as meaning he had to learn magic by himself, therefore being a Sorcerer. Considering his clothes are a unique color combination for the Sorcerer robes, it raises more than a few questions
Rolan always carries Lorroakan’s letter on him - This one always makes me so sad, pointed out by @sadwizardlover. Throughout the game, the one thing Rolan always carries on his person is the written response from Lorroakan to his letter, posted below.
Lorroakan also beats Rolan up😭 He'll only admit this if Lorroakan's dead though
That’s all! If anyone has any more to add to this list, shoot me an ask✨💞
A/N: Based on this request which was taken from an HC by @somerandomdot who so graciously allowed me to expand on this idea!! If you haven’t already, please go check them out because their HC’s are always so spot on and often times very delicious.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut, blow job, oral (male receiving), suggestive content obviously, a bit of fluff at the end, but mostly just filth.
His skin runs hot beneath your hands, your fingers tracing over taut muscles as you run them over Halsin’s thighs.
The druid had been rendered silent by your request, eyes slightly wide as he gazes down at you from his position propped up against a great oak tree.
It’s fitting, really. Oak father…Oak tree-
“It’s not something I expect of you, my heart,” Halsin finally says, pulling you from your wandering thoughts.
You blink once, lips curling into a smile as your hands slide further up, so close to where you want them to be.
“I know it’s not expected,” you tell him, nails scratching at the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. “I want to. Is that so hard to believe?”
The question remains unanswered for a moment, as if Halsin is fighting some internal battle. And maybe he is.
When it comes to the more…physical side of your relationship with Halsin, he’s always been the giving type. Always seeming to put your pleasure first or even gaining his own pleasure from yours.
For instance, he loves going down on you. Something that took you off guard at first, especially when he almost insisted on doing it every time.
“I desire your taste on my tongue more than a drowning man craves air.”
The memory of his sultry words make you shudder, and brings you back to the present. Halsin’s cock, twitching mere inches from your hands, and your mouth practically watering at the sight.
You want to taste him too - a request that caught the druid off guard in the middle of your little rendezvous.
If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’d never had a blowjob before. But you know that’s not the case, he just seems to not be used to being on the receiving end.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, Halsin lets out a shaky breath, his hand shaking as he reaches down to cup your cheek in his palm.
“You know I can deny you nothing, my heart. Especially when it comes to pleasures of the flesh.”
You smile like the cat that caught the canary, arousal shooting straight to your core at his consent. You’re eager to see what makes the great archdruid tick in this respect.
“Thank you,” you tell him, leaning forward eagerly as one hand wraps around the base of him. “You deserve to be worshiped too.”
Your tongue is on him before he can speak, tracing from root to tip before taking him in your mouth.
He tastes exactly like you imagined he would. Heady, the slight tang of precum and something so uniquely Halsin…It makes you moan.
Halsin responds in kind, an absolutely sinful groan escaping his lips as you sink further down onto him.
You know he’s big from the dozens of times you’ve been with one another. But he feels impossibly larger like this. Your jaw already aches as you stretch to accommodate him and you have to wrap your hand around what won’t fit.
But you aren’t satisfied with that.
Pulling back slowly, you run your tongue along the thick vein running up the underside of his cock, suckling gently on the head.
Another moan falls from Halsin’s lips, and this time his hand cards through your hair, gripping the strands with a strength you know all to well.
“Oak father preserve me…” He sucks in a sharp breath when you sink back down onto him, this time determined to see how much of him you can take.
You relax your throat, breathing steadily through your nose as you sink further down, the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You want to think down further, swallowing him whole, but a sharp thrust of his hips has you reeling back, choking on the length of him.
A stuttered groan of your name leaves Halsin’s lips, followed by a multitude of apologies as he moves to take his hand from your hair.
Not wanting to leave him, you reach up quickly and pull him back, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you move to take him again, blinking away the tears gathered in your eyes.
Another wanton groan meets your ears as Halsin thrusts up into your mouth, hips twitching uncontrollably as you give him pleasure.
“Gods,” he grunts, trying to still his hips as you start to build a rhythm, taking him as far as you can before pulling back once again. “I do not deserve you,” he breathes, words broken by gasps and unabashed sounds of pleasure. “Silvanus blessed me when he sent you to me, a gift of nature itself-ah!”
You feel his nails dig lightly into your scalp, pushing you down onto his length as his hips stutter, and you know he’s close to his end.
You feel him try to tug you off of him, his cock twitching against your lips, but you give a small shake of your head, instead moving to sink as far down onto him as you have all night.
The tip of him hits the back of your throat and goes further, and you swallow instinctively around the intrusion. That action, along with you looking up at him through tear soaked lashes makes your lover come undone with a rumbling growl.
Your name falls from his lips like a prayer as he comes, his seed spilling into your mouth as you eagerly swallow him down.
Once you’re sure he’s spent and you’ve taken everything he has to offer, you slowly pull away, crawling up his body until you straddle his hips.
Halsin is never one to be left speechless - always the more vocal one during sex. But now…Now all that falls from his lips are quiet pants, his chest heaving as you settle against him, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders.
His eyes flutter open after a moment, hazel irises hidden almost completely by lust blown pupils. His hands fall to your hips and squeeze gently, before he brings one up to wipe a thumb at the corner of your mouth.
Your eyes fall to where his now focus, only to see a small amount of his release on the pad of his thumb. Without thinking, you turn to take the digit in your mouth, smiling coyly when Halsin groans.
“You might just be the death of me,” he says, pulling his thumb from your mouth to instead claim your lips with his own.
You let out a small moan when he pulls away from you, his lips marking a trail down your jaw and neck.
“It doesn’t sound like the worst way to go,” you say, voice hoarse with desire.
Strong hands grip your hips once more and before you can blink, Halsin has your back pressed into the cool grass before continuing his path down your body, hands following in his lips wake.
He nips at the sensitive skin of your hip, nose dangerously close to where you’re desperate for his touch.
“I can think of no better way to leave this world than in the throes of pleasure,” his fingers dig into your thighs, spreading your legs so he can settled between them. “But first, I must reciprocate. For if we are to pass on into the gods embrace, it won’t be until we’re both thoroughly pleasured.”
You smile and offer no retort as Halsin follows through on his words.
A/N: thank you for the request @sabersandsnipers! I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy! See the request here.
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: kissing, love confessions, miscommunication, drunk reader, drunk confessions, morning hangovers/blurry memory, Halsin being a gentleman 🥰
The campfire burns brightly in the night, heating your already heated cheeks.
You all finally came across some good wine, pilfered from a wine cellar in a small abandoned town. Astarion practically melted as he read the labels. Practically glaring at you when you asked him what was so special.
“These are vintage darling. Practically liquid gold compared to the piss we’ve been drinking.”
Your other companions had happily helped tote crates of the stuff back to camp then, excited to finally indulge in the best, for once.
And it is the best. The best you’ve ever had for sure. At least in recent memory.
The wine is rich and decadent, passing your lips without that unpleasant burn the cheap stuff gives. It’s sweet and slides down easily - maybe a little too easily.
It turns your brain to figurative mush, your limbs starting to feel heavy despite the uncontrollable giggles slipping past your lips as Karlach acts out another one of her battle stories.
Your inhibitions have started to slip, especially those tied to your tongue. Because along with your giggles you’re unable to stop your flirtatious rambling to the druid sitting beside you at the fire. He is also taking part in the festivities, albeit more cautiously, only having had a single glass to your…
Well…you don’t know how many.
Another giggle slips past your lips as you lean into the man at your side, watching as Karlach flops down onto the ground in a reenactment of her downing an enemy. Wyll goes to help her up but is also unsteady on his feet and soon joins her in the dirt, both of them howling in laughter.
Halsin lets out a laugh of his own at their antics and you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your numb lips.
“I like your laugh,” you say, turning to look up at Halsin.
The man is taller than you even sitting down, so when he looks down to you, pieces of his hair fall forward into his face.
“My laugh?” He asks, a smile splitting his lips as he most likely finds enjoyment in your inebriated state.
You nod, leaning forward once more to rest your forehead against his chest, abandoning your goblet in favor of wrapping the man in a weak embrace.
“I just like you,” your words are slurred as you slump more into the larger man’s embrace. “And you smell good.”
Halsins chest rumbles with laughter beneath your cheek and it just further adds to the buzzing beneath your skin, even more so when you feel his hands grasp your arms gently.
Yet another thing you notice about him. His hands are calloused, roughened with years of using a weapon and tending the land and communing with nature. But he’s so…gentle. His smile, his words, his laugh, his entire being just screams safety.
It’s what draws you to him no matter how much you try to stay away. Which isn’t very much considering he has slowly started to reciprocate your attraction.
At least…you hope.
“I think it’s high time for you to get some rest,” Halsin says, moving to stand from his seat and guide you to do the same.
“What?” You ask, the world spinning slightly as you get to your feet. “But I’m having fun!”
The words are slurred as Halsin slips an arm around around your waist to steady you, slowly leading you away from the fire. You don’t miss the various whistles and hoots from your other companions as he does so.
Halsin smiles, not that you see it as you focus on putting one foot in front of the other as he leads you.
“I know you were, but it will be an ill-fated day tomorrow if you continue to drink.”
Despite your drunken state you recognize the wisdom in his words.
“You’re probably right, but -“ you pause as you struggle to take in your surroundings before you realize you’re being led away from your tent.
“Wait, my tent is that way,” you emphasize by pointing a staggering finger in the vague direction of your tent, a movement that causes your feet to twist up beneath you.
You would have fallen if it weren’t for the druid at your side stopping to catch you before opting to lift you into his arms instead.
“I know where your tent is located, but my tent is far closer.”
You hum in response, your head lolling backwards, eyes meeting the stars above you.
“I can walk, you know.”
Halsin laughs at this, shifting to support your head as he draws closer to his tent. “Your earlier attempts would disprove that statement.”
You pout your lip at him as he finally ducks into his tent. “You’re mean,” you say plainly.
“I apologize, little one.”
His words hold little apology but you don’t point it out as he finally lowers you to your feet, helping as you try to steady yourself. Only when he pulls away do you finally look up at him, and you take the moment of silence to take in the man before you.
He’s still smiling down at you, all while watching to make sure you keep your feet. His brows furrow slightly with every uneasy shift of your body, his hands tightening where they rest on your hips.
Without thinking you reach up, placing uncoordinated fingers against the scars that run over his brow. He stills at this, eyes widening for a moment before fluttering closed as you trail your fingers down. Your hand cups his cheek now, thumb running over where the scar ends just below his lips.
Lips you want nothing more than to kiss right now.
His eyes open then, as if sensing your questioning stare. You’ve both drifted closer to one another during this silent moment, your chests brushing together as you look up at him.
“Halsin?”
“Yes, my heart?”
Your breath stutters in your chest at the new nickname, and you can smell the faint scent of wine on his breath as he speaks.
“Can I kiss you?”
The words fall into silence, and you can practically feel the tension in the air dissipate as Halsin’s eyes close tightly, a sigh falling from his lips as he steps away from you slightly.
Your drunken mind moves before he speaks, making you stumble over your words.
“Oh that’s - I understand. I shouldn’t have asked, that was - I’m sorry I-“
Before you can ramble any further, Halsin has your face cradled in his hands, green eyes capturing your own.
“You misunderstand,” he tells you, thumbs brushing your cheek bones lightly. “I have wanted to kiss you, to touch you for longer than you can imagine,” he admits, eyes softening. “But I do not wish for our first kiss, our first coming together to be in the midst of a wine induced haze.”
He smiles.
“I want you to remember this, and I’m afraid in this state, you may wake tomorrow with no memory of tonight.” He moves to push a stray piece of hair from your face as one hand settles at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I do not want to lose a moment with you.”
His words ease the anxiety roiling in your belly, and you find it in you to nod. The sentiment increases the heat in your cheeks once again.
Halsin smiles at your ascent, and gently leads you to bed. His bed roll is set up on top of a pile of furs which cradle your body perfectly where you all but flop onto it. Your earlier statement of not being tired is quickly erased as your eyelids begin to shut, sleep tugging at your mind as you settle into the soft bed.
The last thing you remember before slumber takes you is the feeling of warm hands trailing your arms before something soft covers you and one brief thought.
He feels the same.
——————
A pounding headache is what eventually wakes you from your slumber. Your mouth is dry, tongue laying thick in your mouth as you try and fail to swallow and wet your mouth. Your eyelids feel filled with sand as you peel them open, only to be met with darkness. The only light is from the sun seeping into the tent in thin slivers from the slightly parted tent flap.
You notice multiple things at once. First being that you’re not in your tent, but in Halsins. The second being the smattering of blurry memories from last night.
Oh Gods…I basically threw myself at him!
You remember that vaguely, asking to kiss him, and then the rest is…foggy. You remember him turning you down and then not much else afterwards.
Pushing yourself up on shaky arms you try to take in your surroundings, letting out a small sigh when you see Halsin isn’t in the tent with you. You can avoid embarrassment just a little longer, at least.
You quickly grab your shoes that you see at the end of the bedroll and after making sure the coast is clear you make your way across camp in the early morning light to your own tent.
The next few hours pass in a blur if periodic sleep and the eventuality of the camp stirring to life around you. A rude reminder that you can’t avoid a certain druid forever.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Karlach's voice pierces the air as she pokes her head into your tent. “Can you take firewood duty? We’re running low.”
You nod quickly. You might not be able to avoid the inevitable but…maybe a little longer.
————
The woods are quiet, this time of day, morning starting to give way to midday as you wander through the trees, gathering suitable logs for camp.
However, the tranquility of nature gives your mind time to wander back to last night, desperately trying to force memories to light. But no matter how hard you try, nothing new comes to light. Just you embarrassing yourself in front of the man who’s captured your affections.
You sigh, before gasping as the toe of your boot catches on an exposed root, your thoughts distracting you from your surroundings. The wood in your arms teeters precariously and just about falls to the forest floor before you feel two strong hands steady you.
“You look as if you could use some help,” a familiar voice says, and your stomach flips as Halsin comes to stand in front of you, smiling down at you. “Here.”
He reaches out to take the wood from you before you can protest, the pile that nearly filled your arms looking tiny against his larger frame.
You want to become defensive, but stop yourself before you can snap. Your anger is misdirected to him when you’re really upset with yourself.
You give the man a small smile. “Thank you,” you say before gesturing back towards camp. “I think that should be enough for now, we can head back.”
Halsin just nods before moving in step beside you as you both make the short trek back to camp. Neither of you speak at first - you too anxious to bring anything up and Halsin is probably too polite to do the same.
At least you thought.
“You were gone from my tent when I arrive back from a hunt this morning,” he says simply. An observation. Yet it feels like an accusation, or at least a question. But you almost feel like you can hear…disappointment in his words. Hurt.
You don’t look at him, embarrassment blooming in your chest again. You shrug. “I just…figured I’d save us both the awkward embarrassment.”
You’re at the edge of camp now, and you stop next to the dwindling wood pile and start unloading pieces from Halsin arms onto the ground.
“I’m sorry about last night,” you finally say, avoiding his gaze still. “I shouldn’t have drank so much and I definitely shouldn’t have put you on the spot and I just thought that if I left this morning it would save you from having to turn me down again and-“
The last piece of wood falls from your hands as you fumble over your words, but a steadying hand quickly reaches out to grab your own before you can move to pick it up again.
Finally, you turn to look at Halsin, and you’re taken aback to see…amusement twinkling In his eyes, his lips tugging up into a small grin.
“So you do not remember last night?” He asks, head tilting to the side slightly.
You shake your head, frowning. “I mean I don’t - I remember some of it. I remember asking to - to kiss you…” you cringe slightly at the hazy memory. “And then I remember you pulling away and-“
Before you can ramble any further, callused hands cup your cheeks and soft lips capture your own.
A memory comes to you then, as if Halsins touch alone makes it resurface. You remember what you thought was his rejection, then his confession, then his kind words after.
“I want you to remember this.”
He didn’t reject you. He returns your affections, and has for some time now it seems.
You finally kiss him back, your hands falling to his waist and gripping the fabric of his shirt in your hands. He pulls you closer then, lips moving against yours in a way that screams desperation. He’s been holding back for so long, and so have you.
But not anymore.
Yet he pulls away all too soon, leaving you breathless and wide eyed as you look up at him, still gripping onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if he steps away.
“I don’t think I could have forgotten a kiss like that,” you say, voice soft.
Halsin laughs, a quiet chuckle as his thumb runs soothingly over your cheekbone.
“I will not forget this moment either,” he assures. “But I did not want to risk losing it to the haze of last evening. These things are better enjoyed with a clear mind.”
You can’t help but laugh, despite the seriousness of his words. “You’re not wrong in that,” you say, reaching up to trace gentle fingers over the scars on his brow.
Another memory flickers to mind and you smile as you watch Halsins eyes flutter closed, just like they did last night.
“Halsin,” his name is a whisper on your lips.
He smiles, eyes blinking open once more. “Yes, my heart?”
Gods that nickname.
“Can I kiss you?”
He pulls you closer, nose brushing your own. “You never have to ask, little one. My heart is yours.”
And then his lips are on yours again, and you're silently glad he made you wait. Because he was right.
Warnings: praising, teasing, p in v, semi-public sex
A/n: Writing for the best boy on my B-day
Gale was happy to move to Waterdeep with you, you were his fiancé after all though honestly the man was just happy that he can live a normal life with you. No more time bomb, no more Mystra and no more of those nasty little parasites. Just you, him, Tera, Scratch and the Owlbear.
Life was perfect and since life was perfect, Gale couldn’t help but want to take you out for a romantic date.
You deserved it after all.
So here he was, standing by the door. Waiting for you to slip out of the room. You had wanted to surprise him, something about a gift from Shadowheart. Hearing the door creak open, the man straightened his body though his heart nearly stopped and suddenly he was a teenager again.
The skirt you wore was short, far to short for something you used to wear just barley covering your ass and the low neckline of the shirt. To him you looked like a goddess. The dress seemed to shimmer whenever you took a step, you looked like you belonged to be persevered in a panting, the stars but the one thing that drew his eyes the most were the stockings you were.
Tiny little crystal’s woven in the fabric like glittering gold. It seemed it hug your curves in the right places and he was finding it that he was having a little trouble finding it hard to breath.
He felt like you were doing this on purpose, in fact he new you were doing it on purpose judging by that little smirk on your face. “Ready to head out.”
“I.” Doing his best to it stutter out a response the man only nodded as he he grasped your hand giving it a squeeze. “Yes…yes I am ready to leave.”
Pulling him along, you were eager to go you though you also couldn’t wait to see just how far you could push your lover.
Gale felt far to hot, his palms felt far too sweaty and why on earth did you have bend over. Why did your ass have it look so good in those stockings. Gritting his teeth he felt his control slowly slipping. His eyes zooming in on a small tear in the stockings.
“Enough is enough.”
Smoothing out the dress, you titled your head to the side. A small smile forming on your lips, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Hmm?”
Giving a quick look around, Gale was happy to see the people far to absorbed in their own things to notice him. “You’ll find out soon enough my dear.” He grasped your wrist tugging you in a nearby alleyway, his hands on your hips pressing you against the stone wall.
“I’m surprised you lasted this long.” You teased as your fingers ran across the bulge in his pants though a gasp tore through your lips as the lips ripped your stockings. “Gale!”
“Now you look far to appetizing.” He whispered against your neck as his fingers teased your slit until he slowly slipped into your warmth.
Grunting, Gale grasped your hips keeping you pressed to the wall. His face pressed into your neck, teeth grazing the skin. The thrusts were slow, teasing , deliberate.
Your head pressed against the wall, your nails digging into his shoulders as you begged the man to go faster. You did your best of march his thrusts, your legs righting around his waist. Your cries covered by Gales lips, his tongue slowly moving against your own.
He let his hands clutch the fabric of your stockings as he slipped his cock in and out of your pussy. A shudder gliding down his spine feeling your walls clench tightly around his cock.
Biting your lip, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. A smile forming on your lips as you dig your heels into his back. You were going it have to wear stockings around him more often.
Here I bring the second and…final? part of my Din'anshiral Verse.
I likes the bits of Sola’s expressions we got from the dragon age 4 preview, and I decided I wanted to see him cry hahaha. Sorry for the extra angsty start of the year post, it hurst so good tho : P
