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hxlyhoax · 4 hours
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Okay, so, looks like Google Docs might actually start implementing their rule about not sharing explicit content. (This includes writing.) How in the ever loving fuck am I supposed to back up 1,000+ stories that equate to 3 million+ words into fucking Microsoft Word????? And efficiently, for that matter?! HELP.
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hxlyhoax · 6 days
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Soft Smile
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Tags: Astarion x tav, Astarion x reader, fluff, just writing about this scene and his silly lil grin, grinchstarion romanticism
***
You blink your eyes open after the most peaceful slumber you have known in months. As your vision adjusts, your silver-haired lover comes into focus, lips curling into the most adoring smile anyone has ever given you. You wouldn’t guess he’s a vampire, the way his smile looks almost silly adorning his beautifully sculpted face. Every movement he made in your adventures was methodical, purposeful. Today, the mask slips.
But he’s in love and showing it to you without his signature mask. For that, you don’t know if you could ever be anything other than grateful, blessed by the gods themselves. Putting such a being on Faerun for you feels undeserved, despite all your sudden accolades. 
“Hello, darling,” he coos, eyes heavy and loving, lips pulled into a smile he can’t help. Nor does he appear to want to. 
You can’t help but grin at the sight yourself, a blush on your cheeks as you softly giggle. 
“What is so funny?” He asks, suddenly a little defensive. Had he not been so mellow this morning, he may have tensed, losing all of the soft features that delighted you this morning.
“No! Nothing is funny, I mean,” you smile, hoping the little reassurance is enough right now. The tension in his body relaxes. “I just really like seeing you like this. Freedom suits you.” If he wasn’t a vampire you could swear a blush washed over his face. Borrowed blood rising to his cheeks, maybe.
“Freedom... I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately,” he says, eyes transfixed on your visage. You imagine you’re probably tired looking and disheveled, opposed to him, so unfairly perfect with his neat, silver curls so early in the morning. “Without the tadpoles and Cazador looming in the shadows, I do wonder what I’m meant to do with it.”
You sigh. You hadn’t really thought about what it would be like for him, never making a choice of his own for centuries, only to find himself able to make any choice he wanted so suddenly. “Well, what do you want to do?” You ask. His demeanor shifts somewhat, lost in thought. 
“It’s hard to decide what to do when you have to return to the shadows. I can’t exactly revert back to my old habits.” Something of a smile pulls at his lips again at the relief of putting that era to rest.
“You don’t have any ideas? Surely there is something you’d like to pursue,” you say, gazing into his strong, crimson eyes. Softer than ever, they project his newfound strength. His ability to overcome his past must have felt like an impossibility for all these years, and you can’t help but admire every wrinkle, every imperfection, and his careless, hopeless grin. 
“I have one
 but it’s silly,” he shifts his gaze away slightly, embarrassed.
“You can tell me anything,” you say softly, stroking his shoulder with your free hand that isn’t leaning on the pillow. 
“I just want... you. Is that okay?” He appears to brace himself for rejection.
“Of course. That’s all I want too, after all.” 
“Ah,” he breathes. “What a relief. As selfless as I am, I do rather like your company.” 
You hope his soft smile lasts forever. You'd protect it at any cost.
***
A/N: short silly thing I wrote on the train. I wanted to do my take on the scene that is fluffy and focused on that goofy smile. Btw I am CACKLING about that pic I made for this. Its so so silly. I cant. Im sorry 😭
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hxlyhoax · 6 days
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THE EYE CONTACT OMG
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hxlyhoax · 7 days
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Devourer
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Astarion x F! Tav
18+ predator/prey, adrenaline, dry humping, restraint, roughness, spit, biting, p-in-v, aftercare, scary vampire sex what can I say
Your beloved vampire has gotten very comfortable with you. But you wonder of he's been holding back some of his more supernatural tendencies...
Masterlist
-
"Love?"
"Hmm?" He intoned warmly, reaching out on instinct to find you as you came up behind him. A book open in his lap.
You leaned down, sating his searching fingers into yours. Kissing his knuckles softly.
"I have a question..."
He leaned his head back over the lip of the loveseat, looking up at you.
"I may have an answer." He teased, eyes round and trusting. Face relaxed. Open.
It still made your heart spin when he looked at you like that. You didn't know if you'd ever get used to it.
Which made your question all the more conflicting and potentially invasive.
"So you're a vampire..." You started.
"Ah, so you've caught on."
You gave him a withering look, only inciting a wider grin from him.
"You don't have to answer this, by the way."
"I have faith that we'll get to your question eventually."
You sighed in defeat to his laugh, stepping over the back of the loveseat. Tucking your legs next to his open lap.
"Do you ever have to... remind yourself to act mortal?" You waved your hand as you searched for words.
You didn't want to use the word pretend but that was closer to what you meant.
"Like in order to not scare people you kind of... pantomime? Gods, I don't know what I'm trying to say."
His voice was low, somber.
"Mask is the word you're looking for."
"Yeah..." You looked at him, trying to gauge if this line of questioning was too much.
"Well, the answer is mostly yes. A lot of my body's behaviors are muscle memory. But it can be a manual effort, depending on the situation."
He bent his wrist up, turning his forearm out. That little pop in the twisting joint.
"I know I broke my wrist at some point before cause there's still that clicking in there. Little remnants. My breathing, my mannerisms, it's kind of the same."
You traced gently along the thin skin on the inside of his wrist, turning to him fully. Bringing his hand to sit center of your crossed legs.
"How would you feel about letting that mask slip a little around me?"
He peered at you, many different emotions flitting across his face. Settling into apprehension.
"Darling, I don't think you understand what you're asking for."
You kissed the inside of his wrist, and he sighed in pleasure, hand settling on your jaw.
"Humor me, then." You paused, looking in his eyes. "I'm not scared, love."
He seemed to fight with himself then let out a scoff, squinting his eyes at you accusingly.
"I can't deny you when you look at me that."
You smiled, nipping at his palm.
He took a deep breath and released it. But it never returned.
His chest stilled entirely, a creaking in the back of his throat.
You hadn't realized how many tiny movements he usually made until they were gone.
It set off the natural alarm bells in your head, sharing space with this statue. Your instinct telling you to get away. You were a hare in a thicket and a wolf was staring you down.
His eyes had constricted to pinpricks, watching your minute movements it small scanning glances.
His mouth fell open as his eyes met your neck. Pupils widening fully out into saucers.
All of the air pulled from the room. His stock still body radiating contained energy.
You stood and his blown eyes watched you, tracking every breath you took, every twitch of muscle. Mouth salivating.
His eyes reflected bright in the candle light, two filmy orange discs.
He slid off of the loveseat, body fluid. Pouring into a deep crouch. Arms held out into his side.
Pupils constricting again, he uttered one creaking word.
"Run."
You took off like a shot, vaulting over the loveseat. Ducking down the hallway in a whip of hair.
There was no way you could outrun him even with your agility. Not when he was like this. But this was a game, one you were more than willing to play with him.
You could feel his presence behind you but couldn't hear it. A wraith on your tail.
Pulling the door open, you sprinted into the garden. Leaping over the rock wall, heading for the treeline.
Adrenaline rocked through you. You knew this was play, but your body didn't. Flooding you with tight coiled energy.
A shadow to your left, then your right. Cold fingers catching your wrist, then releasing. Your hair. He was toying with you.
You knew there was no hiding, your blood running too hot and fast to disguise. Outrunning was a fools errand.
Surprise was your only ally.
Stopping your feet suddenly, you ducked down.
His fingers brushed over where your head should have been.
His momentum took him a little farther, head whipping. Skidding to a stop, back foot sliding out.
He bared his teeth, smiling wide. He should've been panting like you, but he was all liquid. Sliding along the ground, hypnotic. Dipping his shoulder down, preparing to pounce.
You readied yourself, you only had one subterfuge in your book. Better make it count.
He lunged forward, a pale smear.
You ducked down again and slid feet first under his legs, twisting up behind his back.
He whipped around, laughing. His usual high lilting giggle a shriek. Sending shivers down you.
You took off again, his laugh against your back.
You caught sight of a great tree, leaping up and climbing branches in pulls of momentum.
Eyes cutting down you saw him fly along the forest floor, covering the ground in seconds.
Falling to all fours, he scaled up the tree in easy pulls of his fingers, barely holding on. Gravity looking away from him.
Crouched on the last stable branch you had nowhere to go. Effectively trapping yourself.
His eyes rose over the branch, burning orange disks. The moonlight catching his open smiling maw, sharp teeth slick with saliva.
Your heart kicked against your chest, a deep burning desire radiating from your pelvis.
Seeing him like this was dangerous for you in more ways than one. Thighs gripping the branch you were straddling.
"No where else to go." He chuckled, voice all gravel and heat. Near unrecognizable. Crawling towards you, limbs stretching luxuriously, as if he had all the room in the world.
You considered backing up but there was only a free fall for you there.
"You really tried didn't you, rabbit?" He caged over you, his body forcing you on your back. Arched over you, balancing easily on fingertips and toes. His glowing eyes flooding over your vision.
You knew he could smell your arousal, the slick forming between your legs.
"I think I deserve the spoils now, don't you?"
In one pull of his hand, he ripped your blouse open, the fabric tearing. Your breasts springing free to the cold night air.
You gasped and almost lost your balance, gripping into the side of the branch.
"Careful, we don't want you slipping." He purred, pinching a nipple between his long fingers.
You groaned, you wanted more and could tell he was holding back again.
One one motion you pulled his maw open and shoved your wrist inside.
He went statue still again, eyes flashing into yours.
Fingers digging in, he reared back, sharp mouth opening wider than you've ever seen before. A deep cracking from his jaw as he arched open and snapped down on your wrist. Getting in as much of you as his jaw could take.
You craned your head back, whimpering. Hips starting to rock against nothing. The pain pushing into a near unbearable pleasure.
His eyes were crazed, darting across your body in pulses. His mouth salivating obscenely against your wrist, the fluid pouring in rivers down your elbow.
Fuck, you needed him to touch you but you didn't want to break the spell.
You bucked your hips unconsciously, a silent plea.
His eyes zeroed in on that movement and in one motion lifted you by the waist and caged you against the trunk of the tree. Grinding his hips into yours.
Your head fell back, and his mouth latched on. Dragging fangs and suckling down hard on the flesh.
You gripped onto his forearms and he caught your hands and pushed them above your head, snaring them down in one hand.
He pushed your thighs out with his legs, splaying you open. Ripping the crotch of your leggings open, hips rutting into your soaked underclothes.
You were already a mewling mess, panting hard and arching. Just the friction of his cock against your cunt already dancing dangerously close.
Stepping up the trunk, he pushed you even higher.
You were now both suspended in air, only his body keeping you against the world.
Your legs threatened to give out, wrapping them tight around his hips.
He hissed, a clicking sound accelerating in his throat. Pushing your hips back far enough to get his cock out.
Without warning he yanked your underclothes aside and slammed fully into you.
Stars bloomed across your eyes, straining your wrists against his hand. Oh Gods it was too much, but not nearly enough.
His other hand came to your throat, looking at you with his head cocked. Watching every micro movement of your body as he rolled into you.
You could see the strain on his face, clearly trying to reign himself in again.
Taking your blood-stained wrist you smeared it across your face, your breasts. Red painted and defiled for him.
He leaned his head back and bared his teeth, a deep rattling growl reverberating through his chest.
Rutting into you viciously he began biting. Indiscriminately puncturing any flesh he could reach. Hard. Fast. Frenzied. Licking the wounds closed in the same ferocity, his saliva pooling again. Dripping down your neck.
It was all too much, your legs shaking in warning.
Erupting against his all encompassing body, you arched so hard you saw white. Shrieking out indignant pleading moans. The pleasure so agonizing it stole the air from your lungs. A crushing wave pulling you under, water pouring in your open mouth. Writhing helplessly against him.
He bit hard into his own arm, his dark blood dripping down his forearm. Restraining himself from ripping your throat out.
His face crumpled in pleasure, releasing his already bruising arm to push hard against your sternum. Holding you in place. Thrusting in hitching pulses.
As his end hit him, he started breathing again, something close to a death rattle pulling through his chest. Fingernails biting into your hips. A cry between a whimper and a scream ripping through him as soon as his lungs refilled. An obscene amount of his spend already leaking out of your joined bodies.
You held his head in your hands as he lowered you back down. Anchoring him back.
"I need you to breathe with me." Your eyes held his. Breathing in big diaphragm breaths in encouragement.
He followed, eyes still wild. Your breathing a deep tandem.
Breath ragged but slow, he checked over your body. Kissing softly along the bruises and bites. Removing his shirt and wiping you clean of his smeared love.
Fully back to himself, he cupped over your hand against his cheek.
"We probably should have set up a safety word." He sighed.
Smiling cheekily, you pulled him in for a soft kiss. "There's always next time."
He nuzzled into you. A purring sound as he let the air hiss through his throat.
You were delighted by this development. But the bigger question.
"How are we going to get down?"
"Well I'll be spider climbing, you have fun with that."
"What if I pushed you off. What then."
"You could try, little rabbit."
~
(this is my first time doing the you/yours format. let me know what you guys think! yeah woo!)
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hxlyhoax · 7 days
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twitch_clip
clip from a recent Neil Newbon stream when he's spooked by a dark room in the Shadowlands
"Oh wait, I'm a vampire..." *Astarion voice* "I'm a vampire. I'm not afraid of the dark. I like the dark! You're afraid of the dark."
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hxlyhoax · 7 days
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hxlyhoax · 8 days
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One of my first headcanons for Astarion and Tav - and quite frankly the one that made me start writing - was and is that once everything is dealt with they take the time to show each other around their favourite places in the city.
Astarion has spent more than 200 years in Baldur’s Gate, he knows secret places that some have already forgotten. Tunnels of an old cloister where the stray cats of Baldur's Gate seek refuge, the secluded garden with nightblooming flowers, a way up onto the rooftops for the best view of the city.
And he has so many stories to tell too - of noble houses that lost their estates that are now crumbling away, of rebel groups that had the city in a chokehold and scandals that had the whole city gossip.
Every stroll through Baldur’s Gate with Astarion is an adventure - and a history lesson (no matter if you want it or not).
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hxlyhoax · 8 days
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“Knowledge is a dangerous weapon:” Bookworm!Tav, Vampiric Spawn Powers, and Breeding—“Bites” Update 📚
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Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4.6K of banter and breeding
Based on an anonymous prompt
(HBD @lipstickghoulie )
Summary: You have always loved your books and a challenge, when your Vampire Rogue learns his starvation has kept him from his full powers, you take him up on his challenge to teach him the skills that are his due. As you draw closer together, he finds that one bit of information you have failed to teach him
 how to make a dhampire
CW: light mocking of Astarion’s ditziness, Spawn Spidercrawl, catching powers and feelings, flirty touching, creepy silent vampire moves, Breeding talk, no babies just breeding, Mating Pressâ„ąïž
Ao3 link | Series link | Masterlist
📚✹📚✹📚✹📚✹📚✹📚✹📚✹📚✹📚
You always knew he was
 dumb. Thick headed. Unobservant.
Okay, at times the comments from his thick, rosy lips were just plain stupid. “That lever
 must do something
” That was a wonderful moment, one that earned him your eyes rolling so far back in your skull they hurt. “We have some words and some
 circles
. Wonder what they do
.” Another example of his unparalleled intelligence.
Not to mention the countless times he failed to remember any of the major gods and their shrines as you passed through crypts and defiled chapels.
For as handsome as he was, for as sultry and seductive as you found him, he was
 smoothed-brained. But as your journey forced you closer together, you couldn’t help but think some of it may be merely pretense, he was a magistrate after all. He was abused and tortured for centuries, surely that does things to one’s mind. And he was always reading. Every day, every night at camp, his beautiful aquiline nose stuck in a book, crimson eyes devouring the words at a breakneck speed.
One to even rival your own thirst for knowledge.
Maybe it was that you allowed the poor Spawn a chance to drink living, thinking blood for once. Your own. Maybe that was what began to take his little, stupid moments and turn them into something endearing.
Not that he was gracious when you corrected his ignorance. Every time, he gave that adorable, grumpy harumph and then defended his comments, or
 since he started feeding from you, he’d just look at your neck still freshly marked and lick his lips. That really shut you up. Set you on fire.
But it wasn’t until you needed him to reach that last little chest up on the crumbling ledge inside some dank cavern that you realized his ignorance wasn’t wholly pretend.
Astarion, vampire spawn, didn’t know just what he should be capable of. He looked positively befuddled when you told him to just climb the brick wall. His sass had been sharp, “I’m not some spider, darling.”
“But you can spider climb, you dolt,” you had laughed imitating his tone, trying to call his bluff on skills he should have, at least according to what you had read in your book. A Spawn should scale such a wall with immense ease.
He just narrowed his crimson eyes at you, a snarl on his lips as he shook his head. “I have never performed such an act, darling, nor have any of my brothers and sisters, those of us Cazador kept for his bidding. Better check your precious facts in your precious tomes before you throw your assumptions on my prowess
 dear.”
You still shiver at that night. Back at camp. When you ignored the way he bristled as you approached him in front of his tent. He had sneered at you, readying his next acerbic quip for you
 Until you sat so close beside him, settling the heavy book in his lap. Leaning in, you point to the page. Traits and Strengths of the Vampiric Spawn.
You felt him cease breathing, his left hand clutching at the edge of the book growing even whiter. “Astarion,” you breathed. Leaning in more, you looked into his eyes, his gaze scanning the words so quickly on the aged vellum. And then he shoved you by your cheek out of his sightline. He needed to finish this.
“Why, I should be positively remarkable, assuming your book is correct,” he sighed, as if he saw a vision, a dream fulfilled. One where he was powerful.
You nodded as his crimson eyes flashed at you, wide with wonder. “You mentioned Cazador never let you feed enough, and not from thinking creatures.” He nodded, skeptical even as his eyes fixated on your lips. “Well, what you did not know was that denying you a sufficient diet meant also restricting you from your full powers, even as a Spawn, Astarion. You should be able to climb up walls and ceilings, move swifter, lift boulders too much for even Karlach to manage. You should be able to heal almost instantaneously, without potion or feeding.”
“And now?” he replied, that little tremor of hope in his voice unmistakable as his hand traced over the page of your book.
“Well, it’s a difficult deduction, since you have our unwelcome illithid parasite. But now that you are feeding regularly, even from thinking creatures, you should find the effects more than just making you feel
 happy,” you rambled on. Even as you kept talking, his eyes glued their gaze to your neck, your lips. If you weren’t mistaken, they even dipped down the v-shaped cut of your tunic.
“So
 the more I drink from thinking creatures, the stronger and more powerful I will be?” he murmured, a slight grit in his throat as his eyes definitely darted down your bosom now.
“Y-yes,” you rejoined, sliding back just a touch.
And he slid that touch closer, and then some.
“You’ll help me, won’t you, darling? You’ll help me learn these skills? Give me all I require to access my full potential
.” His eyes looked wet, the ruby irises glowing in the flickering firelight. “Please?” he adds with that smirk and that single arching brow of his made you stomach flutter and heart thump so hard in your chest.
“I
” you started, but he only seemed to lean ever closer.
“You know, when I was a Magistrate, back in the City, I would have craved someone with intelligence like yours. We would have been rivals, colleagues
” his eyes dip once more shamelessly up and down your seated body. “Perhaps lovers even,” he breathed. “I always surrounded myself with those of highest intellect, darling. Intelligence is so
 undervalued by many, and knowledge is a dangerous weapon, but I see you, my darling. Won’t you please come to my aid now?”
“We
 we can try,” you had whispered, barely able to the let the words from your lips with how you seemed to seize under the intensity of his stare.
“Wonderful,” he purred, catching your cheek, your chin in his cool palm. “I just hope we don’t have to wait too long
”
You squirmed as his thumb began to brush beneath your lip.
“
to put my new strengths to the test I mean, of course.” He smirked that little bit more twistedly. More seductively. And you knew he heard your heart beating in your artery, your blood rushing under his touch in your veins to pool lower. It was his nature, and you knew more of it than he did.
“Of course
” you breathed. “I’d be happy to help.”
“Then it’s settled,” his voice was thick in his throat, you relished the way his other arm stole around you, clutching at you back to bring you all the closer under his heady spell of charm and seduction. “All that’s left is to seal our new arrangement somehow
”
He pushed that heavy book off his lap, sliding to bring you into completely flushed against him. You’re sure your pulse was raging so loudly, it’s deafened his pointed and twitching ears. That chilled, corpse-cold touch under your chin tilts you up just
 so

You melted, closing that distance between your lips. Every logical thought dispersed in the wind of your desire, that panting breath that passed from your lungs into his.
That’s how this all began, and where it had brought you to this moment, where he clings to the ceiling of a massive cavern filled with both the stink of Gnolls and the vile creatures themselves. Dagger gripped in between his glinting fangs. He readies himself with a look of pure and dark excitement. He loves this. He misses this when it’s just you all back in the quiet of camp, where he tests his ever growing strength and climbing abilities, where he drinks from you every night before he hunts in the dark.
Where he slowly makes you more and more aware of your awakening body the more he touches you and caresses and kisses you. Always every night. Always between your increasingly intellectual discussions about vampiric powers and the moment he sinks his fangs into your skin to feed. He always leaves you after dark, his own belly sated, while you
 you grow all the hungrier. Needier. You want more debate, more analysis, more of his body covering yours as he drinks you down.
But not anything more. Not yet. Even as you knew he was edging closer to asking you for sex. Even if he didn’t know all the
 implications. After all, knowledge was a dangerous weapon.
You shake your head to free yourself from the longing thoughts of past nights and burning expectations of the night to come. You give him the signal, watching him release with flawless precision, dagger in hand now, as he falls from his spider-perch.
The Gnolls never see you coming, not before your endearingly ferocious Vampire Spawn lands with preternatural grace on their heads and vivisects them before you even reach their location.
He pants as you get at least one good shot from your bow, right for the last twitching body on the ground.
It’s not until you smile, satisfied, you notice that Astarion’s pale skin is riddled with scratches and tears from the beasts’ claws. He holds out his arms, rolling up his sleeves and smiling. Enjoying the sight of his vampiric body healing before his eyes. That crimson gaze practically glows as he looks at you over the carnage. “See something you like, my sweet?” he purrs, arching that brow, just for you, as if the others in your party aren’t even there.
“Ahem,” you clear your throat, turning to find the coveted chest of supplies, that Zhentarim sigil on it is no deterrent to you. Not when your Vampire Spawn can charm anyone to do anything now. “We better head back to camp,” you kneel before the strong chest, trying your hand to pick the iron lock.
“Tch,” his voice brushes your ear, physically tickling the small stray hairs that make you gasp. “You know I’m far more skilled with my fingers, especially when it comes to slipping inside
” You shudder to feel him crouching right behind you, his thighs pressed against your ass, his waist brushing your lower back. “
Slipping inside chests, locks, that sort of thing,” he adds louder, just to appease your unease. That dexterous touch has only grown all the smoother and stronger and sneakier now that he has fed well for a while.
He is so sneaky in fact, only one of his hands actually works the lock pick for a moment, the other quickly skates up your leg, tracing the inner seam of your buckskin breeches almost to the peak of your thigh. He laughs in your ear as you muffle a noise under your own palm.
“Soldiers, you really need four hands to pick one lock? Haven't you gotten better, Fangs, now that our fearless leader has let you suck on her and tutor you in being a Spawn?” Karlach chortles, her feet swaying side to side in that perpetual motion dance she seems to do.
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Astarion throws the barb over his shoulder, letting you bury your face to hide the tweaks of ecstasy at the corners of your eyes as his fingers keep moving higher
 higher. “Some silent performance only you get to savor, it seems?”
“If I didn't know better
” Gale’s pedantic voice draws closer.
“There now,” Astarion crows like the proudest rooster of them all, his hand quickly leaving the edge of your mound to twist that pick and pop the lock just as Gale peers from behind. “Look at all this loot,” he groans and stands, satisfied as he folds his arms over his chest. “Good thing you have a strong, well-fed Vampire to bring it back with us. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”
He smirks down at you, hand extended to help you to your feet. Back to the rest, he flashes you that fang-toothed smirk that he knows sets your pulse galloping out of control. Pulling you up, he has to steady you in your legs, near boneless as they are with just that tease of pleasure. “Calm yourself darling, you're making my undead heart hurt sympathetically from all that
 excitement,” he rasps right into your ear once you’re on your feet before him, releasing you in favor of bags of treasure and potions and loot to stuff in his pack.
Your mind is racing as your trod back towards your little camp well off the Risen Road for good measure. Thoughts scramble, worries peak their heads up, and you can’t stop thinking about the rest of what you have learned reading about vampires. Necessary research for you, particularly since Astarion has seemingly added flirtation and seduction into your witty repartee this last tenday. So far, you’ve managed to keep his wandering eyes from those pages when he glances through your tomes. He seems to prefer every little dip of your skin where he can see it at any rate. So far, you’ve managed to keep his hands in places on your body that are not too dangerous, yours on his as well.
But something inside you knows that tide is shifting. He wants to offer you more in exchange for more
 and
 well, if it doesn’t just make your body thrum with life in ways no books had and no previous interests had either.
He has beaten you back to camp, haphazardly tossed the loot for the rest of you to sort out in the center of camp. You know he’s waiting in his tent, now that the sun has begun to trek lower and lower. It’s time for your research, for your indulgence of his strength, and
 whatever else might happen.
His tent is dimly lit as you enter, a mess of blankets and pillows, some fine and some in tatters. Stacks of books in the corners have replaced the blood bank bottles you first found here to clutter his space.
But no Astarion.
You tilt your head confused, settling down on one pillow, more or less intact, reaching for an apple he keeps in his stash of food just for you. Just to replenish you between his own feedings. As you bite into the hard skin, as the juice fills your mouth, you reach for a book, some ancient law book he found in the ruins of that village. Must make him think of his old life.
The pages are old and soft in your fingers, your eyes absentmindedly skimming the long words and complex sentences as you chew.
Peaceful. Until you realize it’s far too quiet.
You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, that feeling of being watched creeping up your spine. Turning, mid bite, you peer into the shadowed corner of his tent behind you.
Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the dark, just a hint of glinting teeth as he smiles and drinks in your fear and surprise. He laughs to hear you hiss as you jump in your seat. “There you are,” he croons from his darkened corner. “I’ve been waiting.”
“F-f-for what?” you force a smile and force your breath to steady all at once. He slides closer, settling down right beside you, and you notice your worn book in his hand, the smile on his face is sultry.
And predatory.
And for a moment, you regret teaching him as much as you have about his untapped powers.
“When were you going to tell me about your little bit of
 research
 on the side?” his voice is chilling, his brow arching as he flips the book open right to the back.
Right where you had been trying so hard to prevent his eyes from skimming, his ambitious brain from devouring the knowledge.
Your body is hot and rigid, and you know from the way his pointy ears twitch, he hears your pulse. You know from the way that his nostrils flare that he smells your arousal, the slick that dampens your underthings just to be this close to him again after his little stunt today.
“If my observations are correct
 and they usually are
” he purrs, even though the stack of evidence to the contrary is vast. But you bite your tongue as he continues, your heart leaping at the topic he is about to breach. “You sound and smell eager to discuss this topic if dhampires, my darling.”
You swallow, watching so heated and frozen as he slides so gracefully to place the weight of that tome in your own lap, his fingers removing the half-eaten apple from your fingers to toss to the side. Then he brings their sticky, juicy tips to his mouth to suck them clean.
You moan, unbidden, at the wet and vigor with which his tongue cleans every crevice of those digits.
“Now, I’d hate to be left wondering just why my intelligent, little darling would withhold such a vital
 potent
 part of my unrevealed powers as a vampire?” he sets your hand back on your thigh, a little extra brush of his fingers, returning to trace that seam inside your breaches as he had before. “Is she
 curious? Afraid? Is this why she has been just so hesitant during our
” he grips your chin, turning your head with commanding force until there is nowhere else to look but his deep crimson eyes, “
late night trysts?”
“It’s not something one just
 brings up, Astarion,” you try to flatten your tone, even as that one hand still traces up and around your thigh. “It’s just not
 done
”
Something about his eyes softens, “It would be important to discuss, you know, for there is more that I would like to share with you than just witty banter and blood
” his tone dips low into a rumble. “It’s not something I would have known, not a concern I would have shared until I knew of it
”
“There’s more to it than you might know,” you squeak as his fingers press into that slot between your legs. “Now that you’re well-fed, you’ll feel actual
.”
You swallow the word. His touch presses hard enough into your folds through your breaches to make them soaked. And you, wanton you, you give a breath and a buck of your hips to keep his fingers there.
“Pleasure,” he smirks, eyes scanning your face as your force your eyes back open, halfway at least. “Yes, I gathered as much. The more I feed, the more I come alive
 alive enough to perhaps even bestow a new life
” he squints a grin at you, your mouth slack as he draws that touch just as hard again, “
perhaps one day.”
You arch your body, trying to slip closer. Your secret is out, your anxious thoughts over clandestine information dispersed in the air. And so, the next words from your mouth just build on all that you had been swallowing down.
“Yes, perhaps one day
” you sigh, leaning back on your hands to try to give him full access to your cunt. “Perhaps one day, we could test out those powers together.” Your voice shakes with excitement, it’s pressed with the sincerity you feel for him.
“Oh, my love,” he smirks and reaches both arms around your waist. That newfound strength pulls you flush into his lap, until your molten, silk-soaked center presses against where he’s hardening. “You always know what to say
 Seems like quite the power that will take much preparation and proper timing
” He brings your fingers back to his lips as he kisses them softly. “I’d have to feed on more than just a bear and more than just sips from my little treat, sweet as you are
”
You nod, once or twice, before losing yourself in the bliss of his tongue on the tingling inner skin of your wrist. Barely more than a lap before his fangs pierce your skin and suck you down. Your very essence, your living blood pools in his belly, you feel it coursing in his veins. It fills him and hardens him beneath your hips in an instant.
“Well, practice makes perfect you know,” he croons, bloodied lips barely hovering off your own. “I can tell from your scent you are not
 in season
. And I have only had the single little taste.”
You pant, writhing at the scratch of your clothing, you long to rip it off and toss it where your book has long since been abandoned. “Sounds right to me,” you hiss, arms tucking around his neck to lower those arrogant stupidly handsome lips to your mouth.
Astarion’s throat rumbles with a growl, the taste of your blood fresh in his mouth as he rolls you on your back. Primal. Feral. He’s your powerful vampire, blood in his body, lust in his brain. And you want to put it all to the test—your own little experiment to match his enthusiastic desire for you. His touch is lightening fast and strong, pulling off your clothing, swift and sure and careful until every inch of your bodies are bare.
Strength hums in his muscles, even as his hands gently caress your cheek, your neck still sore from all his feeding. His body presses you into the pile of blankets that cover his plank of a bed. His hips grind your belly, your thighs are pulled almost against your chest until you’re spread wide open for him. But for every jolt of his cock as it prods above you and drips his early cum on to your belly, his kisses on your lips are sweet, gentle. A silent movement of gratitude for all your willing aid. Those fingers drag their slightly warmed touch around your breast, kneading it tenderly. With every arch of your back, you can almost catch the base of his cock inside your folds.
And you shake. You quiver. You’d had a few lovers, mostly boring and few and far between. But never has your body burned for anyone like it does for him.
As if his vampire touch is calling your blood to pool beneath it. Not one traditional strength, but with Astarion, you aren’t totally sure he doesn’t have some unnatural ability to command your body. To make your blood pound and sing just for him.
“What a good girl,” he rasps, a grind of his hips to send that cock near your navel, over your skin. “I can feel your heat for me from here. Just waiting to be fucked full.” His mouth descends quickly but carefully, only taking a single nipple in his lips. Sucking hard, he pops off with a loud wet noise.
Almost as loud as your moan.
“So ready, aren’t you?” His question weighs you down, your eyes half shut to savor the way he drags back with that length, sliding it in just an inch or so into your aching sex. “I’m waiting
” he growls, and you sob as he pulls even that little bit of his tip back out.
“Yes, hells below, yes,” you pant, hands flying to claw into his ass. Pulling him towards your throbbing core.
That blunted tip prods just barely inside you again. “You want me to fill you?” he rasps.
You nod, your teeth biting your lip hard enough to bleed.
“You want me to fill your belly like you let me fill mine with your sweet blood?” he grips his arms around your shoulders, pressing harder into, cock sliding in another little bit. “Fuck you so many times, my cum will drip from you for days?”
“Yes, Astarion
” you breathe, his mouth devouring your words, ready to swallow your cry as he does, finally, fill you.
You feel the gravity of his body crushing you, his legs braced with every tendon taught as he snaps his hips into. It’s so deep, so driving the way he fucks. And every thrust slaps your flesh and smacks his balls against your ass, but you love it. His breath dampens your collarbone, arms wrapped so tightly around you, you can do nothing but hold on for dear life. Your thighs burn from how they’re bent into your stomach almost, your folds leaking with arousal, and the drag of his cock touches every part of your walls and slams against your channel’s end.
He licks your shoulder, wet tongue lapping up to the artery in your neck. Where it pulses and dances in time with his beat inside you. Flushed and boiling, speared on his length, you pant, suffocated deliciously until you burst. Your visions swimming and muscles contorting in his press, you scream for him. You can hear your arousal, your slick, coating his thighs as his thrusts only increase with speed.
Lifting his head, he sweeps a hand down your sweat-drenched belly, palm bracing just below your navel. His push is relentless, hard and gradual enough you feel it behind your belly, how he gives you resistance from outside against that constant ramming of his cock at your deepest point. It’s enough to throw you into another coil of bliss instantly. “Good girl, so wet and dirty and waiting to be filled
'' he finally speaks through his panting. And he pushes on your belly once more, grunting with each fuck as he comes undone.
As he thrusts and spills his seed, prodding the full length of him to the deepest point yet. You can feel it almost sticking through your skin as he pulses. As he spills, burst after burst, he still rams that end of your cunt.
Beads of sweat drip from his forehead as he looks down your body, and how your skin is wet and flushed and marked from where he gripped you so fiercely.
He smiles and licks his lips. You try to clamber out, but his hand only comes to rest on your shoulder. “Ah ah,” he tutts his tongue at you, slipping out, only to take two of his fingers to play in your mix of cum, slipping it back inside you over and over again. “You’ll need to practice too, and you’ll need to rest to keep all of me inside of you.”
You shudder, a smile wide on your mouth, aroused and embraced, half hidden behind the back of your hand as you cover your face.
“Tch,” he chides you, pulling that hand from your face, “none of that, my darling. I’ll watch every bit of your blush darken your cheek until you’re ready to go again.”
“Again?” you choke. Your hips already feeling stretched and sore, you lay them flat and try to ease the aches.
“Oh yes,” he purrs, “you’ll have to build your strength the old fashioned way, my treat. Now,” he gives your ass a little smack on the side as he lifts it, “on your knees, darling
”
You finally take a breath, freed from his wiry, heavy frame. One cool hand settles between your shoulder blades to have you rest your head on his bedding. But that other hand pulls your hips up, slipping through your juices and teasing your clit until you buck back against his belly. You breathe contentedly, savoring the way his fingers caress you, worship you.
You close your eyes, wriggle your hips, already craving that stretching fullness inside you. A future with him at your side during the day as your strong, well fed vampire
 and on your back and knees and belly and any way he would want you during the long nights with your virile lover.
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hxlyhoax · 9 days
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— woe to the lamb that disputes the wolf
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â€ș astarion x f!reader
wc: 1k+
a/n: i think for a vampire it’d be pretty fun to have someone willing to get chased through the woods, sort of like enrichment time in his enclosure
warnings : predator/prey, dry humping, blood drinking, he's feral in this, outdoor sex sorta, idk if I missed anything lmk
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You knew it had been cocky the moment the words left your mouth, floating through the air like motes of dust in the wind but your pride would never allow you to snatch them back, keep them held tight against your chest in denial.
There was no room for anything to matter but the pounding of your feet against the dirt. Not the sharp sting of branches catching at your arms, pulling light tears in the flesh, nor the growing kaleidoscope of bruises on your legs from tripping over yourself and various roots as you tore through the small wood surrounding Rivington.
Adrenaline, all encompassing like a wave battering you against rocks, meant you paid little attention to these crucial slip ups.
The wolf at your back was drawing ever closer.
Despite being soundless in shadow the mere suggestion of his presence was unrelenting, never allowing even a moment of stillness. You had used an elixir of elven elegance just attempting to stay ahead but you could feel your stamina depleting from running at a consistently breakneck pace ever since.
Yet you pushed on, knowing you had to be close to the agreed upon finish line.
It had been all manner of foolishness to make a bet with a vampire on who could outhunt whom under the cover of night. Seeing the sly grin paint his face should have told you the victor would be predetermined the moment you both set your sights on each other. But alas your curse to bear was believing even for a second that diligent training could trump supernatural ability.
A hunter was only as good as their weapon, and only as reliable as their senses.
Right now you have neither in any abundance.
He’d even agreed to give you a head start, which had only inflamed your ego at the beginning but now you were grateful for the pity. It had been generous, given the fact that you’re outclassed in terms of sheer speed and accuracy.
All the advantages you believed you had burned away, crumbling like the ashes of ignited paper, when you'd been forced to deviate from the path you’d set in your mind. It was artful, the way he directed you by making you believe he was about to lunge out at you from the dense pockets of foliage, baited you with sounds that disgusted his location, forced your mind to play nasty little tricks on you, and you played the dutiful mouse being led through the maze.
Fear wasn’t anything foreign to you, and while you knew rationally that this was simply sick fun, the primal part of your brain failed to grasp the message. And he used that to his full advantage.
A chorus of victorious laughter broke your fragile concentration, seeming to come from your left flank and the world went sideways in a fraction of a second.
Even though he'd held back it did little to mitigate the force of impact, nor the face full of dirt you got as he pinned one arm behind your back with his breath fanning the back of your neck. It sent shivers like shockwaves down your spine as his teeth grazed the shell of your ear.
“Look what I caught-”
You flinched involuntarily but the automatic response didn't mask how your thigh muscles squeezed, something he felt without a doubt as he straddled you.
His smug aura emanated enough that you didn't need to see him to know he was grinning, could feel the way his fingers twitched like live wires as he held you fast.
“You win,” you gasp out, wriggling in his hold but meeting light resistance.
You still upon feeling his nose nuzzle downward against your neck, the tiniest whimper escaping your lips as his tongue swipes across your sweat damp skin. The groan he lets out at the taste is enough to nearly make you cum in the spot.
“And what do I get for my victory?”
Your lungs seize in your chest, a burning bloom of embarrassment and desire that grasp hold of your tongue in a vice grip.
“Whatever you'd like,” he gives you just enough slack and room to turn over on your back before grabbing your hands, lacing your fingers together in a choking clasp. “To the victor go the spoils, isn't that right?”
It's like the world is suddenly cast immobile in rich, mellow amber; a perfectly frozen diagram of a beast of myth right before its jaws open wide enough to swallow the world.
The way his pupils dilate until only a thin ring of crimson is present expands in your vision until it's all you can see, all that is present coupled with the brutal hammering of your pulse that you know is audible to him.
The drag of his tongue against his teeth plays out before you in a slow crawl, his movements like seeping honey and as your adrenaline reaches its crescendo his lips press against yours.
Cold, frenzied, sloppy.
It's a kiss made of teeth, tongues, and spit as his hips grind against you and your fingers claw at the hem of his shirt. You can't help but whine into his mouth, and every noise is swallowed down like fine vintage as he pushes icy hands beneath your shirt, shamelessly groping the planes of your flesh, kneading at your breasts. It isn't long before he's nearly panting over you, pressing his erection against your clothed cunt so firmly it robs you of breath yet again.
Under the ever watchful gaze of the trees you're both stripped of shirts, his lips mapping the contours of your throat as if he hasn't traveled the road a thousand times, as if he couldn't find your veins blinded.
You are the feast table he needs no guidance towards.
In the throes of delirium you almost don't feel the initial pinpricks of his fangs until the pain blossoms as they're driven further through layers of skin, the wounds widening to accommodate and relinquish a greater flow of the red gold that floods his mouth and drowns his tongue.
When his lips close around the wound to suck your hips buck up against him, fingers sinking into the hardness of his shoulder blades as you two rut in the dirt: a mass of sweat, blood, and arousal so primitive it only heightens the obscenity.
His own hands hold you steady as he basks in every touch from you and every movement of your hips, nearly garbled whimpers against your neck and you can tell just the friction alone has him teetering on the edge.
Through the euphoric haze a wicked thought takes root in your mind as your hand slides down between your bodies, caressing him through his trousers and coaxing him to a premature end.
You feel his fingers tightening in your hair, a subtle plea that you're quick to answer, the motion of your hand becoming urgent as he grinds against your palm and moans shamelessly into the now numb patch of flesh at the side of your throat.
When you feel the little quakes and shivers racking his body, the warmth spreading against the fabric, and the hushed garble of your name you know it's not he who has won.
In a kiss drenched in the second hand taste of your own blood you can't help the self satisfied grin that overtakes your lips.
In the smattering of moonlight shot through gaps in the branches you relish in your small victory, already eager to challenge him again.
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hxlyhoax · 10 days
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Male Companions and Parenting
Here is some headcanons for the male companions (and Zevlor) for Baldur's Gate 3. This is a continuation of the Pregnancy headcanons I wrote previously. If you want to request anything just send me a DM!
Zevlor
His son is a spitting image of him except for his eyes, his eyes are your eyes.
When he holds him for the first time his son's tail wraps around Zevlor's wrist and he feels like his heart will burst.
He's a strict parent but he makes sure that his child knows that they are loved.
He wants to be there for everything, every step, and every word. He wants to be involved.
If his son starts to become interested in weapons or fighting it gives Zevlor a heart attack. He doesn't want that life for his son.
But seeing how important it is to him, seeing how his eyes light up when he is fighting, Zevlor makes sure he is properly trained. Nothing but the best.
He will constantly tell his son how proud he is of him.
"You should have seen him today, Sweetling. He was great. He will be amazing." Zevlor sat on the edge of the bed, looking at you with a grin on his face. "Our family is amazing."
Wyll
When he holds his daughter for the first time, he feels like laughing. His wonderful, beautiful daughter who looks like the perfect mix of the two of you.
He is the dad who has tea parties and helps paint her nails.
Wyll would gladly take her with him when he goes to train, showing her how to properly hold a (dull) blade the moment she is big enough.
He cannot tell her no; she doesn't even bother to ask you for something when she can go to Wyll instead and get what she wants.
The first time he sees his teenage daughter in a proper evening gown for a ball his heart drops cause he knows she isn't his little girl anymore.
He's not the best dancer but he does his best to teach her how to show up everyone on the dance floor.
"Darling, do you see her? Doesn't she look marvelous?" Wyll's eyes go from the dancing figure of your daughter with some noble's son to you as he takes his hand in yours. "Maybe we should take the hint and dance ourselves."
Astarion
His handsome son with his silver hair and red eyes but your skin color.
He is the only one who can get your son to stop crying as a baby. Not even being held by you can quiet the wailing child.
His son may be a troublemaker from the moment he could walk but Astarion would only encourage it. Very much an 'As long as you don't get caught' way of parenting.
Would have no qualms about teaching him how to pick locks or how to use a dagger. One must always be prepared according to Astarion.
He does not like his child being out at night without one of you, even as he gets into his teenage years. If he isn't home by sundown Astarion is ready to go out searching for him.
Astarion makes sure to encourage his son in anything and everything he wants to do. He would gladly buy the world if that is what was asked of him.
"He did well today, Lover. You would have been proud of him." You hummed softly in acknowledgement, not looking up from your book as Astarion walks over to where you sit in front of the first. He smiles before bending over and laying a kiss on the crown of your head.
"Of course, he's your son."
Halsin
When your twins are born Halsin swore they would ask for naught. Holding them both in his large arms to his chest as they slept.
Your son looked like you but had Halsin's hair and eyes while your daughter looked like a clone of Halsin just with your eyes.
Halsin learned early on to keep an eye on them, from the moment they could walk they were running off into the forest. They would often come home covered head to toe in mud.
He makes sure to teach them to respect all creatures, even the gross and icky ones.
It is not uncommon to find one of them on his shoulders. In fact, they often would fight over who got to ride on his shoulders so he had to make them take turns.
His son takes after his father, bringing home random critters much to his father's amusement.
His daughter is on the quiet side, liking to stay by his side and enjoy nature more than the company of people.
Would be over the moon when his daughter felt the call to being a Druid and his son a Ranger.
"You are so proud, Halsin." You walked to his side, taking his large hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand.
"More than you could ever know, my Heart."
Gale
Gale loves his daughter from the moment she is born but he is not a baby or toddler guy.
When he is left alone with her for the first time as a baby you come home to both of them crying.
He does his best which includes taking said daughter with him to any lectures he gives and when she babbles, he acts as if she is answering or giving input.
"Excellent point, Darling! Now, to continue..."
He makes sure she is dressed properly for whatever the weather and makes sure she is always in style.
Tara is her favorite babysitter hands down and Tara is more than happy to follow the young Miss around.
The first time she tells you and Gale she has a crush on someone you have to hold Gale back from threatening the poor soul with a fireball.
Gale makes sure to teach your daughter how to be proper and that includes how to rip someone to shreds with their words.
Gale puts a huge emphasis on education, he will make sure that she has the best tutors and will even tutor her himself if she asked.
"She is doing simply amazing, Dearest. You would never guess she has only been studying for a few years. I say she will soon surpass all the others in her class!" You gave your husband a soft smile as he continued to sing your daughter's praises, happy as can be.
Want to buy me a coffee or commission a short story? Find me here: https://ko-fi.com/littleleonlion
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hxlyhoax · 10 days
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18+ minors dni
â˜…ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»â˜…ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»â˜…ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»â˜…
bartender!dick grayson who spots you leaning against the bar one night in a tantalising red dress, trying to shrug off some drunk loser who keeps insisting you let him buy you a drink. dick steps in to suggest that maybe the guy’s had enough for one night, and it’s time to head home. he pauses there, but his eyes finish the sentiment—leave, or I’ll make you.
bartender!dick grayson who gets to chatting with you once the asshole’s gone, quickly realising you two have some pretty serious chemistry. he offers to make you a dirty vodka martini, claiming it’s his specialty. “it’s on the house,” he promises with a wink.
bartender!dick grayson whose eyes darken slightly as he watches your lips tease the rim of the glass, barely noticing the way you’re staring at his black t-shirt pulled taut over his muscular frame. your skin is hot, and you don’t think it’s from the vodka. he tells you he’s off at 11:30, a suggestive smirk on his face.
bartender!dick grayson who leaves sloppy kisses down your neck as soon as you’re through his apartment door. his large hands roam your body and squeeze the soft flesh of your ass, holding you flush against his muscular torso.
bartender!dick grayson who has your legs around his head within minutes of getting you sprawled out on his bed, your pretty red dress crumpled up around your waist as he devours your needy cunt with all the ferocity of a starved lion.
bartender!dick grayson who turns you over to fuck you from behind, just so he can watch your glossy pussy grip his cock like a vice as he pulls out of you slowly, before sinking back into you hard. he groans at the filthy sounds you make for him, gripping your hips to ground himself.
bartender!dick grayson who gives you the best orgasm you’ve ever had, even though you’ve known him for less than three hours. he talks you through it as you tremble around his length, his tone almost cocky—“fuck, look at you, sweetheart. feels good, doesn’t it? all for me, huh?”
bartender!dick grayson who grits his teeth as he pulls out of you to cum over your pretty ass, knowing he’d much rather fill you up and watch you drip instead. maybe next time, he tells himself with a smirk, knowing you’ll be back again for more.
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hxlyhoax · 11 days
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Baldur's Gate 3 cast play D&D
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hxlyhoax · 12 days
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Neil Newbon as Simon Walker in Hollyoaks (8/14/12)
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hxlyhoax · 13 days
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“I love you.” The first time he says those simple three words, he doesn't mean it. Not really. And he knows you're aware of it too, with the stern glare you give him in response to his smug grin. He's teasing you—or, it looks that way anyway. In reality, he hopes that there's a glimmer, a sliver of your heart that welcomes his enticing and open arms. It’s routine. A habit. It feels more natural to lure you in with songs of promises than to simply tell you what he needs. He hopes you take his hand and ignore the sharp nails digging into your skin. He hopes you fall.
“I love you.” The second time is months later. He thinks he might genuinely mean it this time, considering how heavy his heart feels in his chest as the words leave his lips. But it’s hesitant. You can tell. And ever so patient, you only smile at him, taking his hand this time to squeeze it gently. Ah, that feels nice. Does he love you? Have you grown on his cold, dead heart? The fact that he doesn't want to recoil from your touch is enough if an answer..
“I love you.” The third time is at his grave. He’s confident now. Feeling. Wanting. He wishes he could hold your fingers against his skin forever. He doesn't want to even let go, because he fears you might vanish into thin air, like every other caring thing in his life. You're good. Understanding. Nothing like him. You deserve better than him. But he's always been a selfish man, and even though your presence urges him to be better, he remains selfish when it comes to you. He doesn't--no, he won’t lose you.
“I love you.” He’d feared he would never get to say the words again. He had faith in you of course, but an Elder Brain is no easy feat to defeat. But as he watches the brain sink into the darkest depths of the sea, the others cheering behind him, he feels the sun begin to prick at his skin again. It stings. Gods, does it sting. For a moment, he wonders if he should even run. He's had a taste for the sun kissed glow and he's not sure if he wants to part ways with it if it means he’ll rot away in the shadows forever. But when he feels you hurriedly toss a cloak over his shoulder, covering his face with the hood just enough for him to meet your eyes, you offer him something he doesn't want to ever imagine himself without again. Something he’s still in disbelief he has. Someone to worry for him.
I love you, I love you, I love you. As years pass, the words become more frequent, yet they never lose their weight, no matter how they're said or when. It’s funny, really, how he'd almost feared saying the same exact words just a few decades ago. To Astarion, they remind him that you're still here, allowing him the privilege to let him love you as much as he does.
“I love you.” The last time he says it, whether it be after an untimely death or simply from old age, he’s holding your hand again. He hates that instead of the adoration it’s supposed to convey, he hears more of the wobble in his voice as he realizes his time with you is up. Even though he's said it so many times, he finds that it still wasn't nearly enough. Open your eyes, he pleads to nobody in particular. He breathes. Why is he breathing? He doesn't need to. But the breaths become faster, and he realizes he’s crying too. Curses, how immature. Ah, your hand is so cold, almost like his own. He hates it. Don't be like him. And when he begs, he begs. Squeeze his hand again. Touch him again. Smile at him again. Live again.
Let him love you again.
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hxlyhoax · 13 days
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Bg3 as unhinged posts 19/?
Part 18
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hxlyhoax · 13 days
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It’s in you. Just have to find the best way to bring it out.
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hxlyhoax · 13 days
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