pov: you put your fav on a sex ban ft. caldarus, march & balor (x gn!reader)
warnings: mature themes, very suggestive with smut included: oral sex (receiving), doggy style, gender neutral sex/smut — w.c: just under ~1k each — this was a requested piece!
Caldarus: 5 seconds
Lately—and although it wasn’t his fault directly—Caldarus had been far more distant from you than you would have liked. Most of the time, he had his nose half-buried in scrolls now that he was catching up on his own history, and having a physical body must have been an overwhelming burden to carry after so many years of being in his stone form.
When you had proposed to help him find his way, and that you would start by offering a break from anything physical so that he could relax a little, you could see his composure shatter as soon as the last word was said. That gentle, yearning expression of his fell within an instant, and was replaced with a look of pure panic.
Right away, he tried to self-reflect, just in case he had done something to contribute to this outcome. “Have I done something to upset you?” he blurted out at once, his voice unsteady. His mouth hung half open as he wished to ask you so much more, but had to refrain to pace himself.
You shook your head. “No, Cal, you’re fine,” you started, ready to explain your reasoning, but by that point, he was already fretting.
“Then why do you wish to go on a break for something we both actively enjoy?” he asked, tears rising to his eyes. “Have I not been satisfying you properly?” he asked again, without giving you time to consider the first question. “I know I have said that being in this new form is strange to me, but I have been doing my best to—” he stopped himself, coming to stare at you with wide, startled eyes. “If you’re not happy, then please, let me try and do better—”
At last, you were able to catch him, rendering him silent for just a moment. “Cal, breathe. It isn’t that,” you assured him with a patient, grounding tone. Your hands reached out to take his into your own, keeping him from trembling. “I’m only suggesting that so you can get more settled in your form. Maybe sex has just been… too distracting lately, when you should be focusing on other things?”
“D-distracting?” he echoed, tilting his head to the side. His long, teal locks fell like silk, catching on his robes. “How could something so pleasant be distracting?”
You brought his hands to his chest, trying to explain it the best that you could. “Because you’re still learning how to even live in this form, aren’t you? Maybe you should be reading more—which you’re already doing, mind you,” you added with a light teasing tone that didn’t quite land on him. “Maybe if you didn’t have to think about intimacy for a while, you would be happier?”
His brows knitted in genuine confusion as he tried to process your words, his tail coming to nervously swish around against the tiled floor. A shaky breath left him as he tried to form a response, initially failing to do so. When he tried once again, he was slightly more successful in maintaining his voice, even if it sounded as nervous as before.
“I don’t understand why you should propose something like that at all, is what I’m lost on,” he said, trying to keep himself steady before continuing. “A good part of living has been the ability to explore everything,” he said, dropping his hands from yours, coming to cup his palms around your face instead, his touch searing hot, “and a significant part of that means exploring you—especially you,” he added before taking a deep breath. “Yes, I will admit that I am greatly enjoying catching up on the history of an era long gone, but it would be a waste if I couldn’t experience you alongside those things, of which I get to learn of your pleasure—and mine,” he added, his face darkening as a certain sort of heat spread across his features. “I apologise for how messy I have been as of late, but do not wish that for a second at all that I desire to be parted from you.”
You considered his words, already feeling silly about suggesting a break at all. “Alright, Cal, I’ll not propose something like that again, but… you’ll have to meet me halfway also, here. I know you’re new to a physical form, but can you… initiate more?”
Caldarus caught your implication right away, dropping his hands from yours at once as he reached to pull you close to him. One hand came to rest on the back of your head, crushing you against his chest, while the other settled over the middle of your back. He hushed you softly, petting you with soothing motions.
“I always, um, wish to,” he admitted quietly, his face looking guilty as he forced himself to confront these thoughts and feelings. “Always,” he added, but then immediately ceased just as his hands found your hips, as if embarrassed. “I am new to this,” he admitted after. “It will take me a while before I can… request so openly,” he added, his golden eyes, however, sharpening as they settled on yours. “Unless you show me—tell me—exactly how you wish to be desired?”
At his plea, you tiptoed up to meet with his lips, pressing a kiss to his mouth, walking him back a few steps until he met with the cool press of the wall, nearly tripping over his tail in the process. Without thinking much, he reciprocated the gesture, kissing you back as if it were a secondary instinct.
“I want you to try being more assertive,” you suggested, pulling back just a little, coming to meet with his flushed face.
“A-assertive?” he repeated, blinking down at you as if he were unsure all of a sudden. “I-I can try,” he quickly said, accepting the challenge.
Within a matter of seconds, he tried to hoist you up, pulling you to meet with his impressive height head-on, encouraging you to find stability by wrapping your legs tight around his waist and to secure your arms around his neck. He kissed you again, his head tilting to find your lips. “Like this?” he asked, seeking your validation.
“Yes,” you nodded along. “But you’ll have to assume that I like everything you do, so no asking questions.”
A heavy gulp passed down his throat as a look of visible nervousness broke out on his face, nodding quickly. Without prompting you any further, he walked you back towards his bed, gently pushing you down against the mattress, coming to hover over you with his clear hardness pushing against you. His skin was scalding by now, searing into your skin through your clothes as he loomed over you. The heat that spread from his body was almost too much, and his eyes burned with want.
“I desire you so utterly,” he admitted at once. “I wish to show you just how much.”
A warm bloom of something hot and anticipatory anchored in your gut. You watched with bated breath as he moved down you, your body half draped over the bed, and your back sprawled out over the mattress. When he met with your lower end, he paused to take off your clothes, coming to stare at your bare form a second later.
“Exploring your body has been… heavenly,” he stopped to admit, his hands slowly parting your legs. “I wish to show you my appreciation.”
Before you could respond, his mouth was already sealed tight between your legs, his tongue tracing along the sensitive skin. Your back arched on reflex, your chest rising outwards with your fingers clawing at the sheets, almost tearing them in the process. His mouth felt so eager, so willing, as he worked on you.
“You taste incredible,” he praised, his voice low and gravelly, his face buried in the apex of you. “I wish to explore you like this—taste you like this—all of the time.”
“C-Cal—” you gasped out, your hand shooting down to grab his hair, instead stabilising yourself as you settled on one of his horns. At your touch, he pushed himself even further in, his motions becoming almost violent in their intensity, eager to have you become putty in his hands.
For if you wished for assertiveness, he would give it to you—he would have you surrender at his mercy and then take care of the mess he had created, melting under what he was responsible for making you feel. He loved how your body responded—how human you were, and to be denied this pleasure all because of misguided consideration—would have ended him entirely. He did not want that. No, goodness, no. He wanted to show you just how important it was to him—how important you were at all.
The intensity of his attention deepened, and by now you were building up to something you could no longer hold back on. Your legs quivered with anticipated release; a warm tingle rising from your coiling gut, the rising pressure gripping your insides. Your hips bucked slightly forward, filling him even further with the taste of you. Your legs were close to giving out entirely, flooding him with your much-anticipated release not even a minute later.
You panted heavily as you felt yourself come, your breath still hot, your vision a blur of stars and whatever else. When you looked back down at him, a new expression settled on his features. Pride, maybe?
“That was incredible, Cal,” you admitted. “How silly of me to even suggest a thing…”
He smiled at you then, wiping your residue off his chin. “All forgiven,” he said softly. “But please, don’t think such things again.”
~~~
March: 2 days
March had a bit of a problem in bed lately, in which he was perhaps trying to prove something to you that you didn’t see the point in. For whatever reason, he kept on trying to last as long as possible, to the point where neither of you would come. It almost felt like an attack on your self-esteem after a while, because he would keep on going until he reached physical exhaustion, unable to finish, leaving both him and you blooming with mutual frustration.
When he proposed, earlier on, another night that you were certain would lead nowhere, you turned your nose at him in an instant.
“Nuh-uh,” you pouted, turning away from him in bed, rolling off to your side, leaving him looking visibly stunned. “It’s just gonna last forever, and then we’ll both be sweaty and frustrated.”
March blinked at your back as you mumbled under your breath, his brows creasing in frustration.
“Now, just what the hell are you talking about?” he asked. “It’s all about the feeling anyway, isn’t it?”
You huffed under the blankets, pulling them over your head to block him out. Maybe you were being immature, but you were also tired from being neglected, the release you were craving so badly.
“Yeah, I like the feeling, but I like the build up too, March,” you blurted out at once, all of your pent-up feelings spilling into the open, “because it means we get to cum, which we haven’t been doing—”
He blinked at your outburst, suddenly lost for words.
“So, I propose that we have a little break until you last less in bed,” you suggested, suddenly feeling silly over how odd it sounded.
A breathless scoff left his lips. “As in a break from sex?” he asked.
You hummed agreeably, turning around and letting the covers fall, coming to face him once more. You could see him look visibly frustrated under that mess of red hair, glaring at you with disbelief. His jaw was pressed tight as he bit his tongue, fighting to keep his composure in check.
“You do know that I only try to go for so long because I think you like it, right?” he asked you, sounding a touch defensive. “You’ve never told me you dislike it, so you’re putting a ban on sex, why, exactly? Don’t you think you’re being unfair?”
At this point, though, you were so far deep into it that you had no choice but to stand your ground. “Yeah, and I’m giving you a break from having to try that hard,” you replied. “Give you a little chance to barely last a second in me.”
March could only stare at you as you gave him the strangest ultimatum he had ever heard before, sagging his shoulders, dropping into bed.
“Well, alright,” he muttered after, not sounding too pleased, but not willing to entertain the matter further. “A week, then. Whatever.”
However, long after you had woken up, and long after even a day—let alone two—had passed, March was already losing it. Somehow, that entire outburst of a conversation felt like an attack on him personally, and you were criticising a vital part of him. Yes, he was going for a longer time because of the noises you were making, but he didn’t do so with the intention of prolonging his release, let alone putting it off at all. He straight up just didn’t know you didn’t like it.
By the end of the second day, therefore, with visible frustration written on his face, he confronted you as soon as you were both off from work.
“So, you want me to fold for you then, huh?” he asked you as soon as he saw you getting ready to head in, his voice loud and assertive.
You blinked and looked around, just in case anyone else was nearby. Thankfully, it was just you two.
“March?” you replied.
“You want me to barely last when I’m in you, is that it?” he asked you again, unable to help but tease you a little. The distance between you both quickly closed as he walked right up to you. His voice lowered when he was right in front of you. “You want it that bad, huh?”
A scoff of a laugh tore from your lips. “It hasn’t even been a week yet.”
“Yeah, it hasn’t,” he replied, mirroring your scoff. “If you really want me to fuck you stupid, though, I’ll be glad to,” he promised, his hands coming to settle on your waist, pulling you close to him.
You blinked at him, laughing breathlessly. Your eyes were now a little too fixated on the rest of him as you spotted a look of genuine yearning fixed in his gaze and the way his arms were so tightly bound with tension that his veins pulsed beneath his skin. He was a little grimy, too, his flesh slick with sweat and peppered with grit after standing behind the furnace all day long.
“March, I—” you uttered, your words suddenly lost.
“You want it just as bad, huh?” he challenged, his voice softer now.
“If you remember our talk, then yes—”
He interrupted you quickly. “I’m going to be so intense, he quickly promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “Both of us will barely last.”
Then, after a pause.
“That sound good to you?” he questioned.
A choke of a gasp left your lips, shuddering from the way his hot breath rolled against your skin as he spoke. “Y-yes,” you obliged, already determined to scrap that silly notion of a plan, ready to dive into his promise.
March smiled widely, then leaned in closer, whispering into your ear, “So, how do you want it?” he asked, pulling back to look into your eyes, before proceeding anyway, the answer finding him a second later. “Or, no, wait. How about I get you on your hands and knees and see how far deep I can go before I can’t take it anymore?” he offered, promising you something that was built from pure sensation.
“Yes, please,” you found yourself blurting out.
March let out a soft breath, walking you back into your shared house, letting you both inside as he guided you through the interior. He turned you over at once, positioning you so that you landed on your hands and knees, wasting no time in helping you out of your workwear, already making quick work of his own. Just as swiftly, he pushed his bare form against the soft give of your ass, groping the mound roughly, making his interest abundantly clear. His cock throbbed against your entrance already, letting you feel the heat of his arousal pulse right at the edge. “Ready?”
You sounded out a soft hum of approval, your words already lost.
Letting out a breathless sigh, March guided himself into your entrance before slowly—almost agonisingly so—easing himself into your core, letting you adjust to the sensation of him, before beginning to move. He went slowly at first, just like you were initially used to, before his hands curled around your hips tighter to find purchase, and he started to snap forward in impactful lunges.
Your breath was pulled from your lungs as he continued to bury himself as far into your sex as he possibly could, finding that each time, the air felt stolen from you. This repeated motion began to loop as he focused on deep, heavy strokes rather than just speed alone, already starting to lose his composure from being so tightly buried within you. The friction was so delicious—the noises you uttered were so intoxicating—the build-up was already happening.
Though first, it was you who surrendered—something hot and tingling spreading through your lower stomach that had emerged in deep, sweeping pleasure—radiating hotness across your form. You cried out his name as he followed up second, lost in the sensation of his cock twitching from within, scalding ropes of built-up pressure finally spilling deep inside of you.
The force of his peak was so great that for a moment, when he pulled back, he went slack before steadying himself. You, on the other hand, were not so subtle, and your knees went weak over the bed, resulting in both of you stumbling over one another, becoming hopelessly entangled.
“A-again tomorrow?” you asked, drunk on the sensation.
A breathless laugh left his lips. “I’ll try,” he gasped, his voice all gravely and low, “maybe for this kind of intensity, breaks are actually needed.”
You laughed, too, supposing he might be right. “Yeah, maybe.”
~~~
Balor: 1 week
When you had first proposed a sex ban for Balor, likely after becoming a bit too tired of hearing his business ventures where they had no place to be repeated—such as the bedroom, right before you were about to have sex—he thought you must have been joking. He thought you were being a bit of a tease, maybe wanting him to grovel before giving him what he thought you both wanted, but then, he found out that you were being serious.
Even after he had dramatically begged for your forgiveness—at his knees, no less—asking for your mercy, you confessed that you were not joking at all. Your expression remained fixed and stern, and you revealed to him that you were at your limit.
At that, he finally, albeit reluctantly, obliged. If you were upset with him and wanted to have a break from intimacy, fine, he wouldn’t push you into anything you were uncomfortable with, but it left him feeling empty in the following week. For one, it was already impacting his life in a way he did not like: suddenly, everything seemed off—even his sales were not built up with such a spark anymore. When speaking to his friends about anything at all, he found himself all dry and closed up. All he cared about in the last five days was making things right with you.
Come Saturday—your usual date day—he was already hoping to amend his wrongdoings, keen to never repeat business talk in the bedroom again, by taking you out on a date and treating you to a nice, big meal, but you were nowhere to be found.
This, alone, already impacted him more than he wanted it to. On a personal scale, he was the one who was used to being the distant one in personal relationships, but this was something far more serious than anything casual. He wanted to have a life with you, so if you were genuinely upset, then he, too, was upset with himself. He did not want to run from this problem, finding that if he were to resolve whatever he had caused, he would have to confront you and fix this.
By the time he had come home, he was a mess as he dragged himself to bed—to you—his eyes glinting with apology as he fell to his knees at the edge of it, his hair dull, his gaze entirely fixed on you.
“Let me start by saying that… you are so important to me,” he began, the apology evident in his voice, his hand reaching out to take yours, kissing you by the knuckles. “You know that, right?”
You allowed him a small, sleepy nod. “I mean, I hope I am.”
“You are,” he insisted, his tone firmer that time. “I shouldn’t be talking about others when the focus should be us, I recognise that now,” he said, reflecting on his earlier actions, feeling regret surface. “All I want at the end of the day is you. Only you.”
“Balor, I understand… if maybe the sex ban was too much,” you began, already backtracking.
“No, you’re right,” he said, holding his ground. “It forced me to think back on what’s a real issue in our relationship. I have been acting too… selfish in our talks. It’s always been about me, my business or about vendor drama, and… that was stupid of me,” he admitted. “I want to amend all of this by making our time in the future about us—only us—no more business talk. What do you say?”
You nodded gently. “I’d like that a lot.”
Balor smiled, lifting himself only slightly so that he could crawl over the bed, coming to hover over you. He pressed his body down against yours, testing for your reaction, before anchoring himself downwards, planting a heavy, deep kiss over your lips. His breath was hot against your skin, his touch was light, explorative, as he felt all around you.
“Let me just focus on you,” he murmured.
At his touch and promise, you lifted your hips to allow his fingers to hook over your underwear, his fingers catching on the elastic. Slowly, then, he fumbled with his trousers, taking out his already erect cock before guiding himself to the entrance of your sex. Leaning back a little, he spat over the heat to coat his tip, before slowly pressing it against your opening, easing it inside with shallow thrusts until your heat enveloped him.
A soft groan of appreciation left his lips as he lurched forward, coming to rest both of his palms on either side of your body, bracing himself over the mattress. Your hips remained pointing upwards as you took him in, your legs spread wide, feeling him push and pull as he bucked into your core. Low, breathless moans were drawn from you with each impact from the sensation of him filling you so deeply.
Balor found himself quickly losing control as the pleasure rose, succumbing to the rising bliss from being buried within you, finding that a week away from you in that regard had already been too much. He leaned back at once, tugging your legs back, keeping your thighs apart as he started to rut into you with abandon. Rough grunts of aching need spilt from his lips as he pounded into your body, his movements quickly becoming an erratic mess as his end neared—of which happened so much quicker now that his focus was purely on you.
“Fuck,” he hissed out. “Almost—”
“Balor, oh god, please—”
At your plea, however, he found himself succumbing immediately, feeling something hot travel in a surge of release, spilling completely inside of you. He could feel his length pulsing, draining him completely of the anticipated release. His whole body was overcome with sweat—a slick sheen coating his forehead and chest before pulling out again—slowly—hissing again, but due to the loss of sensation that time, before collapsing right over you.
Your release was in time with his—squeezing out the pleasure at once—before your body too, collapsed over the bed, feeling his breath race to catch up as he recovered. You, too, heaved from the aftershocks.
“Don’t ever have me stay away from you for so long again,” he muttered sleepily, his nose buried into the crook of your neck, his words coming out as muffled. “And, let me take you out tomorrow,” he added hurriedly. “I didn’t get there earlier today.”
“Y-yeah,” you panted out, “sounds good,” you agreed, your eyes fluttering shut as your head fell back against your pillow, feeling completely sated.
People know that the whole "don't portray [harmful action] because viewers might recreate it" thing is a rule for children's shows right? It's supposed to be shit like "don't show peppa pig playing with fire so we don't get sued if a kid watches it and burns their house down." Not like, fanfiction for adults.
Feels very hilarious that the only person who said "OATH KEEPING PALADINS CAN ONLY BE PLAYED WITH STRICT LAW AND ORDER OBLIGATIONS" in response to my criticism toward BG3 is the only person who misgendered me.
:3 And I'd like to say that my Paladin oath DOES permit me to destroy that person with my giant sword...
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