#bard!reader
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I Want It All: Part 1
Part 2, Part 3; AO3 Link
Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader
Flirting, Light Angst, Longing
Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It's easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can't pretend anymore?
A/N: This turned into a monstrosity. For my own sanity I need to break it up into three parts. I also apologize in advanced, the stuff in the preview won’t pop up until part 2. And please, REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!
Word Count: 4.8K
The day really couldn’t decide whether it was going to be terrible or tolerable.
On the one hand, it had been pouring rain for hours, leaving you and your party drenched as you searched for some place dry to sleep. On the other hand, you were able to find an inn with more than enough rooms to accommodate all of you. On the other, other hand, rooms cost money, something that was in short supply.
“How much does that make?” Karlach asked, placing her share into the pile.
Gale counted out the coins. “Enough for our own rooms, but not much in the way of food.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Hold on, this can’t be right. Who forgot to pitch in?”
All eyes turned suspiciously to Astarion.
He raised his hands in surrender. “I put down enough for the room. Food is something…you all have to deal with.”
Lae’zel gave him a hard look, the threat obvious on her features.
“We could always share a room or two,” Shadowheart cut in. “That will at least hold us over until we can find a way to make more coin.”
A devilish smirk formed on the vampire’s lips as his eyes turned to you. “I’m not opposed to the idea. Certainly would make it easier for me to get a little midnight snack.”
You gave a theatrical sigh. “Not tonight dear. I have a headache.”
“Teasing minx.”
“Can the pair of you not for ten seconds?” Wyll complained.
You bit back a laugh, turning your gaze to the dining area of the tavern. Gods you could smell something delicious cooking over the fireplace. When was the last time you had a proper hot meal?
It was then you turned your eyes to one of the empty corners. The solution to the issue of food suddenly became obvious.
“Not to worry everyone,” you announced, swiping the coins from Gale’s hand. “Dinner is on me.”
Before anyone could speak, you stepped towards the bar, making a point to put on your best smile.
A elderly halfling woman regarded you as you approached. “What can I get you deary?”
“Actually it’s a matter of what I can do for you,” you said. “I see you have some instruments sitting much too idly.”
The old lady shrugged. “Not really. Night like this you don’t need music to bring people in.”
Your smile faltered a moment, but you pushed on. “That may be, but nothing keeps people drinking longer and deeper than a good song.”
She gave you a disparaging look. “Don’t tell me, bard right?”
“Guilty.”
“If you don’t have money for the rooms, we don’t comp that.”
You waved the comment away. “The rooms aren’t the issue. However, if you’re willing to part with a cauldron of stew, I’ll consider it payment enough.”
Her eyes remained wary, but you knew you had her as a twitch came to her lips. “That’ll do. Thirty minute set. You eat after.”
She held out a hand which you took, striking the bargain.
It didn’t take long after to secure the rooms. They were nothing fancy, but a mattress was a mattress and with the guarantee of true privacy for the first time in weeks, none of you were complaining.
“How’s this about food then?” Karlach asked, taking a seat at one of the few tables large enough to accommodate all seven of you.
“All taken care of,” you assured. “Just need to pluck out a quick set and we can eat.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Astarion said. “I don’t mind it myself, but your songs have a tendency to be a bit, well…destructive. Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t use that cutting mouth of yours to simply insult the woman into feeding you.”
“As it turns out, I have a little thing called restraint. Unlike some people,” you countered.
“Oh trust me my dear, I’m well aware of that.”
You rolled your eyes, deciding to ignore the slight twist of guilt in your stomach.
He couldn’t seem to help making those kinds of jabs ever since you had declined his offer for a midnight tryst; always alluding to the theme of “untapped passions” or “delayed gratification”. It was starting to wear on you.
Gods knew you liked him. He had so many qualities you admired; insight, intelligence, charm, the way he could make you laugh. The more you learned, the more you wanted to know and the more you were willing to give for answers. The trouble was his idea of a night of passion and yours were so very, very different.
A part of you knew the honest thing to do would be to spell it out for him. You understood him well enough to know he’d respect those boundaries. At the same time, you didn’t want to lose this, whatever this was, between you. If suddenly that night of passion was off the table, all those moments, all his attentions would be lost. He’d be a friend, certainly, but nothing more.
It was selfish. You knew it was. You couldn’t imagine finding the words to explain it to him. It would leave you too exposed, too vulnerable to that insistent burning want that had a way of tearing you apart from the inside out. It was better to leave him to his assumptions of suppression and prudishness. You’d keep your dignity at least.
Pushing those thoughts away, you took your place in the unobtrusive corner and the spare violin waiting for you.
A smile spread across your face as you tucked the familiar instrument under your chin. Since this whole adventure of yours began, you had little opportunity to apply your skills. Music had always been a source of comfort to you. It felt right to indulge in it now, some place safe and filled with warm firelight.
With a flick of your wrist you began, the resonating tone of the strings filling the room.
You allowed your eyes to close as you slipped into the melody. The sounds of conversation and laughter fell to an idle murmur. It was a simple tune, something easy to match the atmosphere, but one you loved all the same. You always found it best to start with something familiar. If the patrons could see you get lost in the music, they inevitably followed.
As the first song came to an end, you chanced a quick glance at your audience.
Most of the patrons still prattled on, but enough turned your direction to encourage you to try something a little more daring.
Your fingers flew, igniting a livelier rhythm. More eyes found their way to you. A pleasant bubbling sensation filled you. They were falling right into your hands.
Rising to your feet, you glided across the floor, moving with the music towards the center of the room.
Patrons shuffled out of the way, transfixed by your performance. Even your companions had stopped their chatter.
Karlach and Shadowheart’s faces lit up in delight. A smile touched the corner of Gale’s mouth. Even Lae’zel and Wyll looked on with admiration at your skills. As for Astarion…Astarion just stared.
You couldn’t quite read what was going on behind those scarlet eyes. It was a look you had caught him wearing more than once, always blinked away before you could fully comprehend its meaning. All you knew was how it made that dangerous hope spark in your chest.
He caught you looking and quickly morphed his expression to its familiar smirk. The bastard even had the audacity to wink.
You rolled your eyes pretending not to have seen. It was all part of the game after all. He pretended to care, you pretended not to fall for it.
A lute suddenly joined you from one of the corners, strumming its way into a new song.
You turned as a cheer rose, encouraging the intrusive lutist forward. He was human by the look of him and certainly skilled in his own right. He took a moment to embellish your solo before taking over with one of his own. Soon enough you joined the conversation again with a counter melody. It wasn’t as clean as you would have liked it. The lad clearly had meant to upstage you, but you made sure to put him in line, allowing the impromptu duet to end in some kind of harmony.
You transitioned easily to a new song as he took a seat, bowing to you as he did.
Remembering your showmanship, you made a point to bow in return, schooling your expression into a flirtatious grin before pulling away. That earned the man a round of cheers from his friends and a few obvious oohs from the crowd; exactly as you intended.
You continued on with the remainder of your set. Requests were shouted from the audience, all the pieces of music moving to and from your fingers with practiced grace. By the end of it, your arms were exhausted, but your face hurt from smiling. Gods you had missed this.
As you took your bow, applause followed you back to your table as well as a handful of extra coin.
“That was amazing!” Karlach said, beaming at you. “How’d you learn to play like that?”
“Years of practice,” you said, with pride. “Had to find an honest living somehow.”
“Well, it was beautifully done,” Gale added. “Maybe next time we make camp you could grace us with another performance. Provided we’re not all about to die of course.”
You shot him a grin. “I could be persuaded.”
The wizard turned his gaze away, his lips turning into a knowing smirk. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet Astarion. Been bewitched have you?”
The vampire blinked as if coming out of deep thought. It was only in those last moments did you realize just how intently he had been looking in your direction.
“Yes,” he said, a little stiffly, “you were quite…good.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Be careful there. You wouldn’t want to overwhelm me with praise.”
He regarded you a moment before a sly smile turned at his lips.
You were almost relieved. That look you understood at least.
“If it’s praise you crave, you need only ask,” he purred. “You, my dear, are an unparalleled talent. Your beauty and grace alone should have brought you into the presence of kings. A true diamond in the rough.”
You snorted out a laugh.
“No good?” he continued. “How about this one; if I die tomorrow and the gods grant me mercy it will be your song that brings me into the beyond.”
You gave him a slow clap. “Brava.”
He inclined his head in a little bow. “But seriously, you were good and you didn’t even destroy the furniture. Admittedly though, I wouldn’t have minded if he had met with a little accident.”
You followed Astarion’s eye line to the lute player chatting with his friends. He perked up as he felt eyes on him. Without the distraction of playing, you could easily tell he was handsome in that sun kissed farmer’s son kind of way. Probably had most of the girls in the village swooning.
He raised a tankard to you in toast.
You met the gesture in acknowledgment.
“He wasn’t that bad,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.
“He was the worst part of your performance,” Astarion insisted.
You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t help but have your fun.
“Oh my darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.
“Certainly I am,” he said, clutching his own chest in turn. “He’s the only person I’ve seen you willing to make sweet music with. And judging from his looks, he would have much preferred it to be a private performance.”
You didn’t bother looking over to the other table to see if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter either way. It never did. Your answer was always the same.
“He’ll have to keep waiting.” You shrugged. “Not my type.”
Astarion’s eyes narrowed slightly, leaning in closer. “And what exactly is?”
You didn’t answer, deciding instead to take a long sip of your ale.
He continued to eye you, his lips pursed as if trying to solve a puzzle. After a few moments he let out an exasperated sigh.
“Fine, keep your secrets, but I will figure it out eventually.”
Your lip twitched up into a half smile. “You may certainly try.”
It was then one of the staff brought out a truly enormous cauldron of the most delicious smelling stew you had smelled in your life.
You didn’t think to wait as you greedily poured a ladle full into your empty bowl. Two full days on the road with nothing but a handful of nuts and berries to sustain you had taken its toll. The rest of the group soon followed, each taking their share. You ate yours so quickly that by the time the ladle had made the circle, you were grabbing for seconds.
“Hungry are we?” Astarion observed.
You paused mid bite, heat rising in your cheeks. You took a quick look at everyone else. Nobody seemed to have noticed how you inhaled your food. They were content enough in their own bowls and conversation. Carefully you swallowed before self consciously setting down the spoon in your hand.
“I am the one who worked for this,” you said, more defensively than you intended.
Astarion regarded you with a raised eyebrow. “Even so, it’s not going to disappear the second you look away.”
“Says you.”
“Clever,” he said, dryly. “Devastating really. What’s next? Are you going to hit me with an “oh yeah” or Gods forbid a “your mother”?”
“I was actually leaning towards, “leave me to eat in peace you pompous jackass”.”
“Oh yes, that’s much better.”
You breathed out a frustrated sigh. Hopefully it would distract from your obvious embarrassment. You had thought you’d tucked those bad habits away.
Years of living on your own had left you going to bed hungry more times than you cared to remember. There was a time food had disappeared from your plate if you didn’t eat it fast enough. Of course, things got better. You found music and people willing to listen. It gave you fire and shelter and a contented stomach on good nights. Still, there were the bad ones and old instincts took over. It took practice not to be as ravenous as you knew your nature to be.
“Do I need to worry about your hunger?” you asked, deciding to change the subject.
“Oh you of all people should know by now. I’m insatiable,” he crooned.
Your eyes narrowed, unamused. “I’m being serious, when’s the last time you ate?”
He shrugged. “Few days. Last time I fed on you I imagine.”
Your stomach gave a sudden guilt ridden twist. If that were the case, it had to have been at least three days ago.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because as much as the image of you swooning in my arms is appealing, I’d rather it be over my charms rather than blood loss.” He nodded his head towards the bowl. “From my own experience hunger and restraint don’t mix.”
You tried to fight it. You really did. Years of instinct and reason told you not to fall for the softness in his eyes and voice. He simply didn’t want to explain a dead body to the rest of the party. It wasn’t out of some concern for your well being. And you absolutely could not allow yourself to believe he recognized the desperation in your actions and not pass judgment. If you believed that, you’d be in much more danger than you already were.
“Excuse me deary,” an elderly voice asked. “I was wondering if I could have another moment of your time.”
You turned to see the barkeeper at your shoulder.
“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Of course.”
You moved to stand, but she gestured you down. It was then you noticed she was carrying a case. It was worn with age, but clearly lovingly maintained as the edges shone with intricate gold inlay.
“I know you already paid for your meal,” she said. “But I was hoping I could ask for one more performance tonight.”
She opened the case to reveal the most beautiful violin you’d ever laid eyes on. The wood was a carefully polished chestnut interrupted with carvings which matched those on the case. The strings shone like gold and the pegs carved marble. You may not be a trained wizard, but could feel the magic pulsing from every square inch of it.
“What is this?”
“It was my father’s,” the woman explained. “He was a bard you see, best in these parts from what people told. He had so many stories and songs. Built it himself to help tell them. Try as I might though, I could never get it to play as sweetly. I was hoping you might.”
You looked to your companions. The obvious curiosity played on all their faces.
With a cautious hand, you plucked one of the strings.
It was perfectly in tune. The sound echoed, rich and vibrant even with so light a touch. The instrument itself seemed to glow as if happy to be played once again.
Slowly, you lifted it from the case, taking the bow in hand. You placed it on the strings and with an exhale drew the first notes.
It was the loveliest sound you’d ever heard.
The vibrations resinated in your fingers, moving through your arm and into your chest.
You decided to start simple, a handful of scales to get the intonations just right.
Color danced across the strings, rippling from your fingers like raindrops in a pond.
“Woah,” Karlach said, her eyes widening in awe. “Are you doing that?”
“No,” you said, pausing your motions, as you let it fall slack in your hands.
The elderly halfing smiled. “My father always said an artist puts their truth into every stroke of the bow. This here helps one’s heart shine. I saw the way you performed earlier, you’re not afraid to play what’s true.”
Color rose in your cheeks, unsure how to take such praise. “Thank you.”
She just smiled, nodding towards the instrument. “Keep playing. See what happens.”
You were suddenly aware of the rest of the party’s eyes turning expectantly towards you. Some with caution, some with anticipation, and one pair of red eyes with unreadable intentions.
Knowing there was no way you were getting out of this now, you rose from your seat, placing the violin securely beneath your chin.
You started slow, picking a tune every beginner memorized in their first lessons.
The music sparkled in front of your eyes, twirling outward in melodic waves.
The hum of conversation began to die down as you spotted the barkeeper beckon for silence.
You continued on, moving to something a little more complex, allowing yourself to let the rest of the room blur in the peripheries.
The sound of boots on cobblestones met your ears. Glancing down you saw stone where hardwood floors had been.
You took another step.
The stones followed.
Around you the room fluctuated between firelight and the brightness of morning. Looking up you could see a clear sky had replaced the hatched ceiling.
A smile spread across your face as you stepped away from your bench.
As if waiting for your queue the rest of the bar quickly moved tables and chairs out of the way, clearing the center floor.
The sun followed as the cobblestones spread out in front of you like a stream. With every flourish, finer details were added. You changed the direction allowing a building to form beside you, then another and another. Images of people faded in and out like memories, coming and going with the flow of the music.
You never felt anything like this before. The strings sang inside you, drawing out a melody you knew was there, but had always managed to slip from your grasp.
You surrendered to its current, following it deeper and deeper until all you could see, all you could touch was the music.
Behind your eyes the streets began to turn and change. Buildings loomed large overhead. You could hardly see the stars. A cold swept through your clothes, the chords of the melody vibrating with the shivers in your hands. The world was so much bigger and you were so much smaller.
No instrument laid in your hands, but still the music played on as if you had slipped into a dream.
You continued to walk unsure of where your feet were carrying you until something warm pressed against your back. Light reflected behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. A melody played, soft and soothing against your own. You turned towards it as the voices of long forgotten conversation and laughter accompanied the strings of a quartet.
Your chords and theirs brushed up against each other, a new light shining in the darkness, but just as soon as it began, it moved away, leaving you on your own once again.
You continued on, brushing against others. Sparks would fly, fire would ignite only for them it fade in front of your eyes.
Your own melody grew more desperate, moving and shaping itself to match whoever you found next only just able to cling onto the barest sense of itself.
An ache grew in your chest as you wandered, always searching, never finding. Something warm trailed down your cheeks. You let it flow, unable to stop. You wouldn’t end the story here, even as swirls of blues and blacks surrounded you. They wrapped around your body, filling your vision and squeezing tight around you until you felt the air being pushed out of your lungs. There was nothing else. Even the music had gone dead.
For what felt like a moment and eternity you sat there, alone in the dark.
A voice came to you then, but it didn’t come from the instrument tucked somewhere under your chin. No melody accompanied it. It was so far away. Something about it was so familiar. It spoke your name like a desperate prayer. You reached out for it.
The air itself moved around you as if you had plucked the very strings of the universe.
A low hum came next bringing with it two pin pricks of light. A red fire glowed in the darkened space, growing until they sat as two eyes burning in the air.
You cocked your head to the side. Your own song started again, cautious as it curled around the eyes, examining them from different angles.
The eyes crinkled at the edges, amused by your persistence.
With a blur of motion, it turned to the side allowing a profile to form and beginning an enticing melody of its own.
You and the face took turns, calling and answering in playful antagonism.
The lines of light continued downward as its counter melody grew in strength against your own, forming the outline of a man.
He stepped towards you, his own head turning to the side as yours had done before, examining you from every angle.
After a moment, he bowed. You curtseyed. And then you did what only felt natural. You danced.
The heat of his touch burned your skin, but you didn’t dare pull away. You had been cold for so long you hadn’t even known you were cold. Even when it became too much, the fear of the darkness kept you in his light.
The man in turn held you close, his song teasing against your own. So unlike the duet from before, this was a true conversation, the pair of you giving and taking in equal measure. You didn’t want it to stop, holding the feeling tighter and tighter until you felt the pulse of his fire inside you.
You looked up to find the embers of his eyes pouring into you. He moved your hand to his chest. A heart pumped beneath and you knew then it wasn’t his own. Just as you had taken from him, he had taken from you in equal measure.
His face came into focus, forming a familiar knowing smirk and playful scarlet eyes.
He stepped back from you, his hand holding yours as he bowed, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.
The song faded away and you were once again in your own body, a violin tucked carefully beneath your chin.
You blinked your eyes open to find the tavern standing as it had been moments ago. Patrons surrounded you, their eyes wide and mouths open. You glanced around the room, quickly finding your companions. Horror struck you as you read their expression.
They’d seen it. All of it.
Before you could register what was happening a wave of applause erupted from the crowd. People began to cheer. You heard awed whoops and hollers. The adoration was overwhelming and completely miss timed. You needed to lie down. You needed to think.
Numbly you bowed before making your way to the side of the room where the barkeeper stood.
You held the instrument out to her, unable to look her directly in the eye.
“Thank you for letting me play this,” you said.
To your surprise she didn’t take it, instead pushing your hands away with a shake of her head.
“Keep it love,” she said. “After seeing all that, feels wrong to take it away from you. You’ve more than earned the right to it.”
You wanted to argue. You wanted to scream. You wanted to curse her for ever asking you to touch the damned thing. Somehow you managed to swallow all of that down, mumbling another thank you before slowly turning towards your party.
There was still a chance to salvage this. Astarion hadn’t seen his own reflection in centuries. He didn’t know what he looked like. You could play this whole thing up to artistic license. You just carried a general feeling of desperate longing. No need for you to clarify its direction.
Making a point to keep your head down, you put the violin away and slid it over to Gale.
“Feel free to eat this one if you want,” you said. It was meant to be a joke, but even you could feel it fall flat.
“I don’t think I can do that,” Gale said, his tone holding nothing but sympathy.
“It really was lovely,” Wyll said, gently.
“Beautiful really,” Shadowheart added.
Your jaw tightened, caught between the urge to scream or weep. Why couldn’t everybody do you the favor of the lifetime and forget they saw anything.
“Personally I don’t understand your choice in the spawn, but–” Lae’zel started only to be hit hard in the arm by Karlach.
“What?” she snapped.
Your whole body cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next.
“That was…me?”
You were in hell. This was hell. You didn’t have to look up to see Astarion’s self satisfied expression. His tone made it clear enough.
In a flash you stepped back from the table, putting as much distance between you and the party as possible.
“I need to go,” you managed. “Goodnight.”
You sprinted out of the tavern, taking two steps of the time to the upper rooms. You didn’t stop until your door was firmly slapped behind you.
Your breaths came hard as your heart pounded in your chest. Honestly you didn’t know how you locked the door. Your hands were shaking so badly as tears blurred your vision. All the emotions the violin had pulled from you returned, overwhelming you in their intensity.
The instrument had done as advertised. It had shown the truth of your heart, putting it on display for the whole world to see. Gods you were an idiot. Why did you even pick up that damned thing?
You kept your ears open, listening as everyone made their way to their rooms. Their murmurs never made it past the walls, but the way they paused as they passed your door made it clear enough they were discussing you. Thankfully they were kind enough to leave you be.
Counting, you waited until all six doors shut before rising to your feet.
As you did, you felt a small pull at the back of your mind. A vision of a door number and the feeling of anticipation sat on your tongue. The invitation was clear enough; Astarion was waiting for you.
You wanted to ignore it, but you knew you couldn’t. There was no use in pretending any longer. The game was over and you would have to face the consequences.
With a steeling breath, you walked out the door. You could only hope Astarion wouldn’t hate you when it was all over.
#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#bg3#astarion bg3#astarion baldurs gate#bard!reader#asexual!reader#asexual#bard!tav#astarion x ace!tav#astarion x evie
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The Adventures of Bard!Reader!!! Masterlist
Cyno x Bard!Reader x Kaveh
A traveling bard from Monstadt has arrived in Sumeru to spread the love of art and dance! What awaits in the nation of wisdom and folly?
Chronological order (meaning I'm putting this in order timeline, not in order of when I publish.)
First impressions
Your welcome to Sumeru is not exactly warm.
Second Male Lead, Enter!
Getting chased by the General Mahamatra is normal for you now, so you gotta switch things up to keep him off your trail!! Meanwhile, you also make your first friend in Sumeru.
It Scratches on the Inside
Friend, work partner, boss, sugar daddy without the Daddy, you're not sure what to call him exactly. He's not an enemy to be sure, at least not your enemy.
One Step Forward, Two Steps To The Right
Cyno knows he should be extremely careful of you, you're sly and clever and always seem to be planning something, but he should have been more wary of the way you've slipped into his heart and mind.
• Crush or Chance?
If he's being honest, Kaveh has a bit of a crush on you. You came into his life and filled it with art and wonder-- that can't be just chance.
• Sweet Dreams are Made of These
Cyno dreams, even though he knows he shouldn't. Cyno dreams of you, of blood, of both shackle and scythe. You or Azar. Who holds his chains?
#series masterpost#series masterlist#bard!reader#kaveh x bard!reader#cyno x bard!reader#my stuff#my writing#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin impact kaveh x reader#genshin impact cyno x reader#cyno x reader#kaveh x reader#cyno x gender neutral reader#kaveh x gender neutral reader#al haitham#genshin al haitham
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wwwaaaaaaaaahhhhhh.... it's 11pm and im in a soft state from drinking wine and it got me imagining the targs with a bard!reader. reader is a bard; a wandering one. she's pretty, she's soft, and she sings magically. no one knows where she came from, all they know is that this cute girl appeared out of nowhere and is really musically talented. nothing else about her is noteworthy (though they think her slightly pointy ears are a little odd, and what's with the single leaf earing hanging on one of em?)
she charms her way across the continent singing for taverns and eventually major houses. Reader goes from singing for money to dining with Lords on a regular basis pretty quickly. It was inevitable that the Westeros' ruling family would express great curiosity towards her. By now she's established herself as one of the best singers in Westeros so why has everyone but the Targaryens had the pleasure to hear her sing? They send her an invitation to perform at a grand feast. It was for the Old King's 65th nameday. Bard!Reader saw no reason not to accept. Besides maybe if she acted on her best behavior, she'd be able to see a dragon. (She really wanted to see a dragon)
the day comes and she shows up. everyone's expectations were high but they didn't really expect her talents to be anything special. and man were they blown away. it was obsession at first sight for several young Targs, though they really couldn't act on it because Reader disappeared with no trace after the feast. They couldn't track her down until it was too late and she was already at her next destination. She knows nothing of what she'd just done, she was just happy she got to see dragons. (Because yes she did get to see a dragon; Daemon let her pet Caraxes) "What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her" doesn't apply in this case because because it will. She wanted dragons? Well dragons wanted her and they're all she'll be around in a lot of the coming years.
i realise this will appear in your inbox a few minutes before new years because im a slow typer so once again: HAPPY NEW YEARS!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉
HAPPY NEW YEARS FOR YOU TOO 🎉🎉🎉🎉
Now Vyn, we went from a Demigoddess to a fucking bard elf reader? Which btw, i still want to continue that story because it's too good.
And all of that happens before the events of DoD, just so the chaos can approach the sweet bard.
They will spend years looking for her and this frustration will pass to the rest of the Family.
Gods bless this woman when they find her.
#ask#yandere concept#a song of ice and fire#yandere x reader#house of the dragon#yandere imagine#house targaryen#bard!reader
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o god who avenges, shine forth
#orv#omniscient reader#omniscient readers viewpoint#kdj#kim dokja#bard draws#in my orange period lmao
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Ayyyy continuation time of this post, but this time with more people in turned with the world!
Neuvillette, the reincarnation of the Hydro Sovereign who has been in your presence before, felt instantly that whoever was paradng as the Creator was an imposter, a fake, but with no real way to prove his intution, he was forced to remain silent, gritting his teeth in anger as he's forced to bow before this filthy pretender
Klee was confused with the arrival of the "Creator" Klee's mother told her that when the True Creator arrived, she's come back, but even the supposedly the Creator returned, her mama didn't show up, and her mama never lies, so this person must be a liar! Klee doesn't wanna interact with liars so she tries avoid them as much as she can!
Venti hears the winds complain to him day in and out about this fake in the position of creator, he knows well that the world rejects this imposter, but he stays in the court of the Imposter, clinging to the arm of the Fake, the others who know the truth look at him as if he's blinded by devotion, but it doesn't matter to him, he's slowly gathering their weak points
A/N Might make more, I enjoy these little moments of doubts
Thanks for Reading
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin headcanons#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#sagau#sagau x reader#genshin sagau#yandere sagau#genshin impact sagau#sagau genshin#sagau neuvillette#sagau cult au#venti sagau#sagau venti#venti the bard#genshin impact venti#genshin venti#venti genshin impact#venti#venti x reader#genshin neuvillette#neuvillette x reader#genshin impact neuvillette#neuvillette#neuvilette genshin#spark knight klee#genshin klee#klee#klee genshin impact
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Adagio
#orv#omniscient reader#omniscient reader's viewpoint#kim dokja#kdj#orv kdj#demon king of salvation#Thank you bard
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You wanna know what I'm surprised I haven't seen more of? Bard Tavs serenading Astarion, or singing him to sleep with a lullaby composed just for him. I'm sure Astarion would eat up all that affection.
This is so cute omg. And also managed to be an actual drabble instead of a novel! As always cw for spoilers!
~
Astarion woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he frantically looked around. But he wasn't in Cazador's torture room. No, instead he was at the Elfsong, safe and sound in a private room. It had been another nightmare, a typical occurrence as of late.
Atarion had assumed that those would stop after the monster was dead, but they seemed to be more frequent than ever. It felt unfair. He had won. Cazador was dead, by his own hand. There was nothing left to fear. Well... that wasn't including the tadpole still trapped in his lover's skull, not to mention his own. And the Elder Brain. And the cult of Bhaal. But in all honesty, all of that felt so small now with his slave master disintegrated. If he could do what had felt impossible, what had been impossible, for centuries, why couldn't he accomplish the rest?
Astarion groaned as he sat up, realizing for the first time that he was alone in bed. But luckily enough you hadn't gone far. He turned to find you sitting on the window sill, illuminated by the moonlight as you scribbled away in your journal.
You glanced over at the sound of his shuffling, your brow furrowed, "Star? Why are you still awake?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Astarion sighed, the coldness of your side of the bed coming into full perspective. He would like that fixed sooner than later, "Now come back to me, it's cold."
You smiled, slipping down from your perch to join him in bed. Astarion wasn't quite sure when such simple actions would stop making him melt like an infatuated teenager. He was starting to think that it would never come to an end.
You laughed softly as he immediately wrapped his arms around you, cradling you against his chest, "You know how I love to sleep in fits and starts. But you don't exactly have the same excuse, do you? You look so tired lately."
Astarion frowned, loathing the fact that his lack of sleep had become so obvious. But then again, if anyone was going to be familiar with his night terrors, it would be you. He sighed, "Just nightmares. Nothing you haven't heard before."
You frowned, "That doesn't make them pleasant."
"No," Astarion laughed softly, "It doesn't. But now it's your turn. What were you up to in the middle of the night?"
"Just some writing. I've been working on a few things."
"Like what?" Astarion asked, sincerely curious. You were quite the talent as a bard, a fact that he was aware of before he fell in love with you.
"A new ballad mostly, with a lullaby on the side."
That sounded well within your wheel house, though this was the first time he'd heard of you writing a lullaby, "What inspired that?"
"You," You said simply, "But I know how you get when I'm all mushy, so I kept it to myself for now."
Astarion hadn't expected that, but that massive smile that broke out on his face at the news wasn't a surprise. He kissed the top of your head, still smiling to himself, "I don't recall ever saying I disliked you being a sickening romantic. Can I hear it?"
You looked up at him, surprised for some reason. Which was frankly silly. Who wouldn't want to hear a song written about them from the person they loved most? For once in his life Astarion was being the normal one here.
"You want me to sing to you?" You asked, sitting up in bed to smile down at him.
Astarion grinned back, "I wouldn't object to it."
"Well in that case..."
And then you started to sing. Astarion adored the sound of your voice, and apparently he loved it even more when you were singing about him.
Little star, so bright and fierce,
Beautiful with eyes that pierce,
But that's not all there is,
He's strong and swift with perfect lips to kiss, a humor that is only his,
Charming and witty, a wish come true,
If only the rest of the world knew.
Astarion wasn't quite sure when he fell asleep that night, but it was to the sound of your sweet, melodious voice and with a smile plastered to his face.
And for the first time in days, he didn't have a single nightmare.
#astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#baldur's gate 3#asks#lyric writing is not my strong suit yall#short and sweet for once#shocking#I got seven more asks to go from this last batch so stay on the look out if you sent one#i am not#a lyric writer or poet#if you could not tell#shhhh don't look at me#bard tav
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Daybreak Ballads
NSFW || Astarion x fem!bard!Tav/reader || ao3 || masterlist
Rating: E, +18 Word Count: +3.5k Warnings: Smut. Orgasm delay. Soft dom!Astarion. Oral+fingering (fem!receiving). PiV sex. Praise kink?
And yet, Astarion did have an undeniably keen eye for beauty and dramatics alike. If he only put a little more of himself into his work, you were convinced people would adore his poetry. He only had to find his intended audience because one thing was clear: as much as you loved Astarion, his poetry simply wasn’t for you. At all.
a/n: This has been in the works for ages and when I wasn't pulling out my own hair over this, it was quite fun to write, I suppose. Special thanks to @tragedybunny , @bardic-inspo and @littlejuicebox for emotional support. The masterful poem at the end has been handmade for Gina. With love. By the pale elf himself.
You’d never said you disliked Astarion’s poetry, let alone that it was bad. When the pale elf had asked for your expert opinion on his poetic endeavours, you’d just assumed it was honesty he’d wanted. So honesty was what you’d given him.
The form of his poem looked messy, unappealing even; its rhythm was off, contorted by wordy lines that lacked any pleasant flow. Astarion’s motifs were obvious at best and trite at worst, and his rhymes were, well, creative, you supposed. But most of all, Astarion’s pieces left wanting for personality. Where was his wit? His snark? His passion? Where was all the fun?
Try as you might, you just couldn’t see yourself performing Astarion’s ballad—at least that’s what you assumed he’d attempted to write—for your regular audience, not with your flute nor your lyre. It just felt wrong to translate his words into song, forced. You didn’t even need to take a closer look to recognize his work as haphazard, dull, and, worst of all, inauthentic.
And yet, Astarion did have an undeniably keen eye for beauty and dramatics alike. If he only put a little more of himself into his work, you were convinced people would adore his poetry. He only had to find his intended audience because one thing was clear: as much as you loved Astarion, his poetry simply wasn’t for you. At all. That, too, you’d told him.
To your surprise, Astarion had taken your admittedly harsh review of his work with uncharacteristic grace—suspiciously so, in hindsight, at least. After all, the vampire could be quite…sensitive. That night, though, he’d just nodded along to your blunt words, an almost arrogant smirk tugging at his lips, promising you to compose a piece to your liking one day.
Just for you, Astarion had said with a wink as he’d retrieved his poetry from your hands, the dying campfire reflecting in the ink of his elegant handwriting. Crimson eyes sparkling with mischief as they’d wandered over your body. His tongue had slowly wet his sensuous lips as if in anticipation of...what?
Just wait and see, darling…
If your brain hadn’t been all clouded by lust earlier tonight, you would’ve noticed that Astarion had been up to something. He’d been throwing you suggestive looks all evening, purring sweet nothings in your ear whenever he’d gotten you alone. Surprised you in your tent when your companions had been sound asleep, the campfire burned low. His hand had practically been glued to the small of your back as he’d guided you to a most charming little clearing, not unlike the one in which you’d first slept with him all those weeks ago.
That Astarion had kept calling this idyllic, moonlit spot his perfect motif had somehow eluded you as you’d been too preoccupied with the telltale heat gathering between your legs. In fact, you’d followed the vampire like an eager little pup, already wound tight around his little finger. The promise of Astarion’s inviting touches and lingering kisses had lured you right into his honey trap—and how bittersweet it was.
Now, shivering from painfully drawn-out desire and cold morning dew settling on your skin, you could feel that cursed smirk brush against your dripping wet core again—a silent warning.
Oh, fuck.
Astarion’s lips closed around your almost painfully swollen clit, sucking at it leisurely as his lower arm pinned your hips against the cold earth as if you were but a sheet of paper threatening to take flight with the next gust of wind. Another gasp echoed from the trees as your left hand clawed at the damp grass underneath you, looking for support but finding little. Your other hand grasped at silver curls with as much success.
Astarion was rather enjoying himself as your body squirmed under his sinful mouth, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your thigh as he adjusted your trembling leg over his shoulder, opening you up even more for his thorough ministrations. You tossed your head back at the gentle but intoxicating shift of position. His name was stuck in the back of your throat, suffocated by shaky moans as the tip of his tongue brought you ever closer to the edge of release.
Feeling the coil in your lower belly tighten, your toes curled against the raised scar tissue on Astarion’s back, eliciting but an amused sigh from him before his lips released your wanting nub with one last lingering caress of his tongue.
You wanted to cry; this was the second time he’d left you hanging somewhere between bliss and frustration.
Shaking from pent-up pleasure, your elbow threatened to slip on the wet grass as you sat up as much as the weight of Astarion’s arm allowed. Through the evaporating clouds of your laboured breath you only just caught a glimpse of Astarion’s crimson eyes gazing up at you from between your thighs; he was all messy curls and unfairly thick eyelashes. Smug smirks turned wicked.
You swallowed.
“Astarion…” you breathed, not knowing if it was a warning or plea, but before the syllables had faded into the fleeting night, his attention had returned to your cunt once more. The tip of Astarion’s nose grazed your clit. You could feel his cold breath against your burning folds, feeling no different than the gentle breeze of dawn tickling your exposed skin. There was no gentle sensation snaking up your spine when Astarion licked down your slit ever so slowly, and for the first time that night, you truly registered how far you really were from camp. You let out a blissful cry, knowing there was not a soul to hear you but the elf feasting on your cunt.
The weight from Astarion’s arm shifted from your hips down your side. His hand wandered along your curves, groping the swell of your ass before it wound itself back up your inner thigh. He pushed your legs further apart, opening you up impossibly wide. You let out an excited squeal you would be embarrassed for by morning, but not now, no. For the better part of the night, you’d been a whining, trembling mess under your lover—always painfully close to release and yet no part of Astarion had filled you as of yet. But maybe he’d had enough now. Maybe he would finally deign to push you over the edge, with his fingers or his cock, you didn’t really care anymore as long as he finally let you come undone.
And, indeed, Astarion’s fingers inched closer to your core, though all they did was trace the course of your pulsing femoral artery he could no doubt sense underneath your heated skin. You relaxed a little under his sweet little caresses and wondered dully if he would soon exchange the fruits of your cunt for proper nourishment.
He didn’t. At least not yet.
Without warning, the tip of Astarion’s tongue teased your entrance, driving you wild. Your hips instantly bucked against Astarion’s face as your hand clenched around a fistful of his soft hair. Finally! This was divine, this was—
Astarion withdrew from you in an instant, ignoring the undignified whine of protest escaping your lips—fuck, you’d been so close! By the self-satisfied look on his face, though, he was well aware of that. For a moment, he studied the heavy rise and fall of your flushed chest, his chin resting right below your navel as you lay beneath him, dumbstruck. His pointer finger still ghosted up and down the inside of your leg, the lazy movement a stark contrast to the blood racing through your veins.
“Oh, darling, look what you’ve done…” Astarion pouted, his sensuous lips moist with your arousal. “You’ve ruined my rhythm.”
His fingers slowly wandered down, down, down your leg and curled around your ankle before he gently let it glide off his shoulder. With an outrageous nonchalance, he sat back on his knees and considered you. Crimson eyes darted over your feverish skin that glistened with sweat and morning dew. They trailed from your parted lips down your collarbone, through the valley of your breast, until they beheld the mess between your legs with blatant amusement. How you wanted to wipe the stupid smirk off his face; how you wanted him to finally take you.
Behind Astarion’s broad shoulders, you could see the sunrise in the distance; a gentle purple bled into the indigo of night right above the treeline. Day would break soon, but you didn’t have it in you to appreciate twilight when, suddenly, Astarion’s arms came down on each side of your head, eclipsing the waking world around you.
His hips settled against your core as he crawled atop you, habitually making you arch your back against his own growing desire pressing into your belly.
“But don’t you worry,” Astarion purred, clearly delighted as he lowered himself onto you until the silken tip of his nose brushed against yours. “Your body is a well of inspiration to me, my little muse…”
Astarion closed the small distance between you with a heady kiss; your mind went blank as you tasted yourself on his lips, the warmed tongue demanding access to you once more. You opened your mouth to him readily, moaned into the kiss as Astarion’s hands wandered up and down the curves of your body. Your head spun. Nobody—nothing—else could ever make you feel like this, and you cursed yourself when you had to break away from him to fill your inconvenient lungs with air.
Spit and slick weaved like cobwebs between your parted lips as you beheld Astarion with dazed eyes, breathing hard.
He was perfect.
From the fading light of the moon reflecting in his serene locks to his kiss-swollen lips that were a sharp instrument of the sweetest temptation. That smirk that promised unforgettable ecstasy, granting it only whenever he wanted. There was no song nor poem you could compose that could ever do Astarion justice, no instrument to capture the intricacies of his soul. He was a masterpiece.
Drunk on his lips, you leaned forward as his fingers continued to run down your middle, along the curve of your ass before taking hold of your thigh again. Your tired legs twitched to wind around Astarion’s hips, wanting to pull him closer to where you needed him most.
But before you could even move an inch, you found yourself lying flat on your stomach.
Astarion’s arm wound around your waist from behind, roughly pulling your ass up against his lean middle before you could so much as gasp in surprise. Wet grass tickled your cheek as you tried to find your balance, take a puzzled look back at him, but you could only feel him bend over you again, his erection poking your lower back.
Astarion’s kiss-warmed lips ghosted over your ear, “Now that you’re in proper form, let’s write some poetry, shall we?”
What?
He tossed your messy braid over your shoulder, pressed a wet kiss to the exposed nape of your neck as your knees struggled for support on slippery morning dew.
“You’ll sing some more for me, won’t you, little songstress?” Astarion breathed against your spine. “I’m sure you’ll make a real show of my newest piece.”
It took you a moment to process his words. Maybe it was the pebble cutting into the palm of your hand or the day’s first birdsong reaching your ear that lifted the fog in your head, but it finally hit you.
Astarion hadn’t brought you here for a tryst in the dirt, no. You were here because he was writing poetry. Except, this time, you weren’t his critic, but his choice medium. Which could only mean one thing: He rather had taken your criticism of his artistic endeavours to heart, and now you would have to pay the price for your honesty.
“Astarion…” you breathed, quick words of appeasement lost in a moan as he started to grind against you. Suddenly, daybreak felt like an eternity away.
“Yes, darling?” He asked, the perverse amusement evident in his voice. “How do you like my work so far? Is it to your refined taste this time?”
Curse the damn elf. You knew what he wanted, what he’d craved all along. What he’d expected from you the moment he’d shared his work with you. And as if you weren’t in a most precarious position already, he really wanted you to say it—praise him and his stupid poetry when he knew how badly your body was aching for him.
Clenching your teeth, you slowly rolled your hips up against his now rock-hard cock. Maybe, if you just got him to fuck you already, you would get away with your pride intact. All of this was embarrassing enough as it was.
Your efforts were repaid with little more than a chuckle, though—and two fingers that started teasing your entrance, carefully dipping into you without even slightly dampening your need.
“Fuck!” You whined into the grass as your hips chased Astarion’s digits, wishing they were his cock instead, filling you as you’d so lusted after all night long.
“What was that?”
Astarion’s movement stopped at once, leaving you empty once again.
“It’s good,” you hissed against the wet ground as tears of frustration threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes. “Your poetry—Astarion, it’s so good, I swear.”
So much for pride.
“Oh, you think so, little nightingale?”
You nodded frantically as he bent over you again, nibbling at the shell of your sensitive pointy ear. Astarion chuckled.
“Don’t get me wrong, this means so much coming from an expert artist such as yourself, darling, but I can’t help but wonder whether this is a professional opinion or empty flattery for the sake of indulgence…”
You could feel his fingers ghost over your clit, knowing he would never touch you without a satisfying answer.
“It’s true—nobody does it quite like you,” you cried, not bothering to specify whether you meant his poetry or his more distinctive talents, and it didn’t really matter.
Throughout your career, you’d gone looking for inspiration in quite a few beds but never had you written better poetry than in your rather short time together with the pale elf. Astarion was unlike any lover you’d ever taken, nor had you ever cared this deeply for another person whatsoever.
“Nothing compares to you, Astarion,” you whispered, truthfully.
“Ah,” Astarion’s fingers slid back into you the moment the words had left your mouth, curling deliciously against your walls—a reward for your generous recognition of his talents, no question. “But I’m sure there’s room for improvement still?”
Hips moving up against his digits, chasing the sweet friction of his cold skin, you groaned. Fine. If he wanted a damn lesson in poetry, he could have one.
“There always is. What’s the point of art when there’s no growth—ah!”
There was a lewd sound as Astarion pulled his fingers from your core once again, though this time you could feel his body shift behind you. The two fingers that had worked you open so well now gently parted your folds. You let out a low moan as you could finally feel the wet tip of Astarion’s cock teasing your throbbing clit, though it was his lips brushing the back of your neck that really made you shiver.
“So what would you have me do, little nightingale? Would you have me put more of myself into my work, again?”
“Yes, gods, please,” you mewled, dragging the syllables out just like you knew he enjoyed. “Put as much of yourself in as you can.”
Astarion tried and failed to cover his quickening breath up with a sharp laugh, finally giving away the strain on his own composure. “Well, you are the expert, aren’t you?”
The iron grip on your hip was the only thing keeping you from toppling over as Astarion buried himself inside you with one forceful thrust. The entirety of his impressive length stretched you painfully wide, and he only granted you one moment to adjust to the feeling of complete, blissful fullness before he pulled out of you again. Grunting, he repeated the movement, faster each time. His deep groans soon turned into a perfect rhyme to your breathless moans as he fucked you franticly.
“Like my poetry now, darling?” He hissed, slamming into you over and over again as your hand found Astarion’s in the dewy grass.
Your fingers wound around his wrist, up his lower arm, grasping for support. Couldn’t he see, feel, hear how much you adored his poetry?
“You’re an artist,” you panted through open-mouthed gasps, your entire body singing him the song of your desire, though you really doubted that he paid it much mind.
Astarion had buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent greedily. His tongue traced the curve of your collarbone; you could feel his fangs scrape against your tender skin every now and then. He was a fast learner, you noted, dully—Astarion was already losing himself in his passionate work.
“Have I found my intended audience yet?” He muttered, more to himself than to you, as his knee hooked under your leg, pushing it up until you lay almost flat on the ground.
“What do you want me to do, darling? Write down how divine your cunt is? Have everybody know what sinful music you make when I fuck you?” Astarion let out a choked laugh. “Fuck that! I don’t need an audience, because they only need to take one look at you and recognize you as a work of mine.”
He wasn’t wrong. You would be deliciously sore when you returned to camp with the scent of your lover lingering on your skin like ink on thick paper. He was already written all over you; you were his creation. Who else could coax such magnificent sounds out of you but him? And who were you, really, to teach him about poetry when all you had to do was offer your body to him? You hadn’t lied when you said Astarion was an artist.
Your fingernails left little half-moons on his pale arm as he fucked you half senseless. You could feel yourself dissolve deeper into pleasure with every relentless snap of his hips, knowing that this was when Astarion was most himself—buried deep inside you, chasing his own ideas and desires. Enjoying himself. Writing poetry.
You came fast and hard. Astarion gasped as your cunt clenched violently around him, his movement growing increasingly erratic. He breathed incoherent strings of pretty words into your ear, pulled your hips down on his cock with so much urgency it left you reeling far beyond your orgasm. He was close, too. His rhythm faltered as he slipped into a frenzy, cock twitching inside you as he lost himself in his poetry—in you.
You brought your arm behind you to find Astaron’s sweat-drenched face, cupping his cheek. He groaned as he leaned into your touch.
“You’re so talented, Astarion,” you said. “Fill me with all you have.”
That was all it took. With one last grunt, Astarion spilled himself inside you. He continued rolling his hips into you for another moment, his pace slowing before he collapsed on top of you.
You let the familiar weight of your lover ground you, enjoyed the way his hands wound under you to caress your stomach, your breasts. Astarion pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before gently withdrawing from you. His seed gushed out of you, leaving his signature on the insides of your legs.
“You really think I have a thing for poetry?” Astarion asked, sheepishly, as he rolled to his side, pulling you with him to rest against his lean chest. “Or does my talent only reach as far as your pleasure?”
The sun had finally risen over the treeline, melting the morning dew from your skin. Drawing lazy circles across his chest, you considered Astarion’s question.
“Talent means nothing without practice.”
He hummed, clearly pleased with your answer. “Care to practise with me, then?”
“Your poetry or my pleasure?” You asked, looking up to search his face.
Eyes closed to the sun above you, Astarion smiled. “It’s all the same with you, isn’t it, little songstress?”
The pale elf pressed another kiss to your temple, pulled you even closer to him as you chuckled at his words.
“I would be quite honoured, Astarion.”
The page had been ripped from your journal. It rested neatly folded in half next to your bedroll, elegant handwriting bleeding through the paper. Bards weren’t morning people—it just came with the job. Though, even as sore and sleepy as you felt, you would’ve never missed the note waiting for you to be found upon waking with the sun. You’d been expecting it, after all. With uncoordinated hands, you unfolded the piece of paper.
“Getting drunk on your
Sweet morning dew, nightingale.
Fucking you—such bliss.”
—A.
You scoffed at the poem in your hands, carefully folding it again before you reached for a small box filled with similar pieces of paper. You added the poem to the growing collection. There was no talent without practice, and Astarion and you had only just begun.
tag list:
@spacebarbarianweird @bardic-inspo @kawaiiusagichansan @darlingxdragon @herautumnmorningelegance @ayselluna
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#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion bg3#astarion smut#astarion x female reader#astarion x f!tav#astarion x you#astarion x f!reader#astarion x female tav#astarion fanfic#bard tav#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 smut#baldurs gate 3#astarion ancunin#emicha writes#wilteddreamsbg3
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Astarion Ancunín x Bard Tiefling Male reader
Headcanons
I’ve been playing Baldurs Gate 3 little by little, and I’ve fallen for this vamps’ charms. I blame Twilight. Reader is a Tiefling Bard cuz that’s what my player character is. I also have only played DnD like twice, so I know nothing about races or canon. If you guys have any cool dnd facts, let me know, id love to hear them.
Heres just some light and overall headcanons, there’s no specific theme.
In the beginning like any relationship started with Astarion, it wouldn’t be romantic from his part in the start. You, being a bard, have met and experienced a lot of people, so you can read between the lines in his actions though.
You aren’t cruel when it comes to helping others, not one to fit the stereotype some people seem to have for Tieflings and bards. You are just perspective, and you’ll need a reason to do something, having been burned so many times in the past by trying to be good.
Early on, before you knew he was a vampire, the two of you could regularly be found sitting a bit away from the fire at night as the others slept. You would play your instrument at a low volume, as the sound helped your allies sleep, and Astarion would stay nearby since you guys were allies.
Overtime it would develop into something more, you two would flirt, and feelings would actually bloom. It even reaches a point where you might start writing poems or songs about Astarion and your feelings for him, though you’d never show them to anyone, especially not Astarion, his ego is already big enough.
Astarion would struggle with the feelings he is developing for you, as we all know he would. In the beginning he would deny it, and try to convince himself that it was just something going hand in hand with lust, or something about being free and in the sun.
As the story goes on though, we all know that Astarion becomes softer and finally accepts his feelings for you. The two of you being shunned in ways from society, him being a vampire, and you being a Tiefling, probably helps build some solidarity too.
After you guys officially get together, hed start making jokes about you writing ballads about him and his excellence, and you’d joke there’s no need for that. In the end he would figure out the songs you wrote about him before you guys even got together, and of course he preens like a peacock.
I don’t know if Tiefling blood tastes different or has different properties, but to Astarion, the first time you let him feed on you, he would never be able to feed on anyone else. You are perfect to him, from the top of your horns to the tip of your tail.
When you guys cuddle your tail curls around him, and it even seems to do it without you realizing during the day. It becomes a joke amongst your friends, much to your embarrassment.
You being a Bard and Tiefling also means higher charisma, you two are probably lethal when it comes to persuasion or anything involving your charms and lies, especially when you work together.
I don’t know if Astarion plays any instruments, since he wouldn’t have been able to do so for all the years, he’s been under Cazador, or I assume so. But even if he did, I could imagine him asking you to teach him how to play your instrument.
You being a Tiefling also means you are warmer to the touch, and Astarion being a vampire means he doesn’t have any body heat. So, he’s like a big lizard or cat when you guys’ cuddle, just curling up in your arms or melting against your chest.
#male reader#tiefling reader#bard reader#tiefling bard reader#astarion#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate#astarion x male reader#astarion x reader#astarion imagine#astarion headcanon#baldurs gate 3 imagine#baldurs gate 3 headcanon#baldurs gate 3 x male reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader#baldurs gate imagine#baldurs hate headcanon#baldurs gate x male reader#baldurs hate x reader#i love tieflings#and i love bards#so of course i had to play a tiefling bard
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If requests are still open: may we have hcs about how the bg3 boys react to bard!Tav serenading them? I just think it would be so cute
A/N ~ I love this idea so much, I just know it deserves frantic bard writing ;-;
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Serenade
Gn!Reader x BG3 men
Masterlist
Art commissions
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
~ Astarion ~
Astarion thought bards were utterly useless until he met you. He had never put that much stock into music either. But the day you sat in front of the campfire with him, plucking your lute to all of the songs you knew, his heart melted.
As the soft melody of your voice filled the air, Astarion found himself captivated by the enchanting sound. His skeptical gaze softened, replaced by a glimmer of curiosity and wonder. The flickering flames of the campfire danced to the rhythm of your fingertips, casting mystical shadows upon the surrounding trees.
Lost in the embrace of your music, Astarion closed his eyes and let himself drive sea. Your voice, like silk, wove together tales of love and heroism. With each note that danced upon the night breeze, he felt a newfound appreciation for the artistry that had eluded him for so long.
Unbeknownst to you, Astarion’s icy exterior began to slowly thaw beneath the warmth of your melodic gift. The walls he had built around himself slowly crumbled, revealing vulnerabilities long buried within.
As the lullaby reached a gentle conclusion, a momentary silence settled over the campsite. Astarion opened his he’s, finding himself gazing into the depths of your own. In that instant, he saw a reflection of his own longings and desires. The connection between you, forged through the simplicity of this moment, was as delicate as a spiders web.
Without breaking eye contact, the pale elf reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. In that simple touch, a current passed between you, a sliver of magic that pulsed through your veins.
Wordlessly, Astarion leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours. Time slowed to a standstill as the world around you faded into insignificance. The flickering flames cast their golden glow hook. Your faces, illuminating the unspoken words hanging in the air.
And then, with a emotion in his voice that you had never heard before, Astarion whispered,
“Play for me again?”
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
~ Gale ~
Gale always knew there was a magical quality to music. He saw you as a mirror image of himself, being hopelessly in love with a type of magic that would never love you back with the same intensity.
Though he’d never admit it to you, he silently hoped every evening that you would unwind by playing a song. As dusk began to fall, the sunset painting strokes of red and gold, today’s hope was no different.
You sat by the edge of your tent, your fingers absentmindedly plucking at your lyre as you tried to think of a song to sing. You caught Gale’s eye and smiled, his gaze finally giving you inspiration to play.
Your fingers began to dance effortlessly across the strings of the lyre, coaxing out a gentle melody that floated on the evening breeze. The magic of your music filled the air, intertwining with the vibrant colors of the sunset as they painted the sky. Gale watched enraptured, his eyes never leaving you.
As Gale watched on, the wizard felt a deep longing stir within him, a longing for something he couldn't quite put into words. In that moment, he realized that his admiration for you went far beyond your musical prowess.
Unable to resist any longer, Gale rose from his seat and made his way toward you. As he approached, the song you played seemed to weave its way into his very being, tugging at the strings of his heart.
You looked up as Gale drew nearer, a soft smile gracing your lips. The notes from your lyre seemed to synchronize perfectly with the rhythm of his footsteps, as if they were guiding him towards you. The music wrapped around him like a warm embrace, filling him with a sense of belonging he had never experienced before.
Finally, Gale stood before you, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of vulnerability and admiration. You hesitated your playing for just a moment before Gale’s broke out in a grin.
“Surely you weren’t singing about a special someone, were you?”
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
~ Halsin ~
Halsin was probably your favorite person to play music for as of late. When he had first joined your camp, he only sat and watched when you brought out your guitar. It seemed to you that he was lost in his own mind most of the time, not allowing himself even the smallest of happy moments.
When you finally where able to heal the deep scars of the shadow curse, Halsin’s tune changed dramatically. Suddenly he was sat by you in the camp at all times, asking about what instruments you could play, requesting certain songs, trying to sing along to your gentle melodies.
What he loved most of all, however, was challenging you. He loved to see how quickly you could create a song. How easily you could string a line of lyrics about any topic under the sun. Tonight, he had a very simple ask.
Sing something that reminds you of the beauty of nature.
You could tell by the look in his eyes, the shyness in his tone, that his question had much deeper meaning to him than just that of a pretty song. No, he wanted to connect with you on a deeper level but couldn’t think of a way to make it meaningful for you both.
Despite all of that, you decided to indulge him.
As the moon cast its gentle glow over the camp, you took a deep breath and let your fingers dance across the strings of your lute. The melody flowed effortlessly from your fingertips, each note carrying the essence of nature's beauty.
You sang of sweeping meadows bathed in sunlight, where wildflowers bloomed in a riot of colors. You spoke of ancient forests, their branches intertwined like lovers, whispering secrets to the wind. Your voice soared, echoing through the night, as you conjured images of cascading waterfalls and shimmering lakes that reflected the starry sky above.
Halsin closed his eyes, completely absorbed in the enchantment of your song. It was more than just music to him; it was a bridge connecting his wounded soul to the world around him. As you sang, his spirits lifted, his heart opening up like a flower basking in the warmth of the sun.
When your song reached its final notes, there was a moment of comfortable emptiness. Halsin opened his eyes and looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. The silence that followed your song was filled with the lingering echoes of your melody, as if the very air was reluctant to let go of the magic you had created.
And then, Halsin spoke. His voice was barely above a whisper, as if he feared that any sound would shatter the fragile connection between you both. “Thank you,” he said, his words carrying a weight of gratitude that touched your heart.
“For so long, I had forgotten the beauty that resides in nature. The curse had consumed me, turning everything around me into shadows and sorrow. But through you, I have found solace and hope once again.”
Tears glistened in his eyes as he continued, his voice trembling with emotion.
“Sing it again?”
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
~ Wyll ~
Wyll adored your music. It took him a few days to work up the courage, but it wasn’t long before he was asking you to sing while the two of you were dancing. His dancing lessons had started out with just him humming a simple melody, but soon, it was your voice carrying the timing of the song.
Those nights meant a lot to you, the ones where he’d sweep you into his arms, begging you to sing for him. Tonight, however, wouldn’t be one of those night. Wyll had taken a bad hit in a battle today, his injury burning every time he took a step.
He was in no shape to dance, and yet, he still found you by the stream that evening, ready to try anyways. It took a scolding and a few pleas, but he finally agreed to postponed that night’s dancing lesson, settling for hearing you play him a few songs instead.
His eyes drifted shut as you started to weave your magic tune, transporting him to a world of serenity and solace. The melody danced delicately in the air, casting a soothing spell over his weary soul. He leaned back against the moss-covered boulder, surrendering himself to the enchantment of your music.
As your fingers caressed the strings of your instrument, Wyll's mind drifted away from the pain and turmoil of battle. Images of lush meadows and cascading waterfalls began to form in his imagination, replacing the harsh reality of the war-torn realm they inhabited. He could almost feel the gentle breeze brushing against his face and hear the distant chirping of birds as they celebrated the arrival of a new day.
Lost in the ethereal sounds that resonated through the forest, Wyll's features softened, and a serene smile graced his lips. The worries and burdens that burdened him melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of peace. In this moment, he found solace within your music a refuge amidst chaos.
You brought him so much peace.
As the song came to an end, Wyll sighed happily, looking over to you with affection across all of his features.
“If I could only put into words as beautifully as you spin a song, I’d tell you what you meant to me.”
#astarion#gale#halsin#wyll#bg3 astarion#bg3 gale#bg3 wyll#bg3 halsin#baldurs gate 3 astarion#baldurs gate 3 gale#baldurs gate 3 halsin#baldurs gate 3 wyll#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x bard#gale x reader#gale x tav#gale x bard#halsin x reader#halsin x tav#halsin x bard#wyll x reader#wyll x tav#wyll x bard#astarion fluff#halsin fluff#gale fluff#wyll fluff
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|| AN3MO BOYS WHEN YOU KISS THEIR HAND. ||
I semi returned from the dead. Have I told you how much I’m obsessed with genshin?! Wanted to get back into writing so here I am. Apologies for the oocness this is the first time I’m ever writing then. Lemme know if ya want more!
Nevertheless Enjoy.
❥ Heizou
As you gently place a kiss upon his hand. Your eyes widen at the sudden motion of Heizou pulling you towards him until your faces were merely inches apart. His green orbs sparkling with mischief within.
"Don't forget my lips." he says smoothly as his eyes gazes towards your lips.Waiting patiently for you to make the next move. You could only gulp before slowly closing your eyes to close the gap. Heizou then deepens the kiss as he places his other hand upon your warm cheek. After a while he pulls away, lightly chuckling at your cherry red face.
❥ Kazuha
"Now, this is a most welcome surprise."
Kazuha smiles fondly at your actions, his bandaged hand in yours.His thumb caressing your palm gently before flipping your hand over and pulling it towards his own lips. You can feel your breath catch in your throat as you see his scarlet orbs interlocking with yours.
"My beautiful eyes, you have my love, I can get endlessly lost in them."
Words flow just as easily as the kiss you placed upon him.
❥ Venti
"Oho?"
Venti swoons as he places his other hand to his forehead. "Be still my racing heart..!" He exclaims, causing you to let out a laugh softly at his exaggerated response.
Before you could pull your hand away from under his, he reaches forward to your other hand bringing them close to his face. He places multiple quick kisses to your hands making sure his lips have covered them all. Before trailing his lips upwards to your arm.
"That tickles."
You giggle as his lips trail from your hand, to your arm, across your shoulder and towards the neck before resting on your cheek. Your cheeks warm as he pulls away only to smile brightly towards you.
❥ Xiao
"What is the m-meaning of this?"
Xiao tries to keep his voice steady as he feels his face warming at the touch of your lips to his hand. Yet he doesn't try to pull his hands away from yours. A smile forms on your lips at his appearance.
"Just wanted to kiss your pretty hand."
"Hmph, you humans..." The words die down before he can finish his sentence as his hand grips yours gently, eyes locked on your intertwined hands. Pulling your hand so that you can stand closer to him.
❥ Scaramouche/Wanderer
Scaramouche freezes as your lips make contact with his hand. You peer up only to see surprise reflected within his orbs expecting him to pull away instantly. He looks like he wants to say something but is holding back.
"A kiss for a pretty boy." You whisper against his skin, his eyes slightly widening before turning into a glare.
"Tch.."
He pulls his hand away, a burning sensation to where you placed your lips upon. Looking away as he pulls his hat down to cover his reddening cheeks.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#heizou x reader#kazuha x reader#venti x reader#xiao x reader#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#anemo boys#anemo bois#skipps writes#kaedehara kazuha#shikanoin heizou#venti the bard#genshin xiao#scaramouche x y/n#genshin impact reader insert#genshin impact imagines
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I Want It All: Part 2
Part 1, Part 3
Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader
Kissing, Angst, Asexual Angst, Allusions to Past Relationships
Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?
A/N: OMG, thank you to everyone who has read the first part. I was not expecting for it to blow up like it did. Hopefully this next part doesn't disappoint. And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!! (Especially those I've tagged. I'd really like to know if you still like it.)
Word Count: 3.0K
How could ten feet of hallway feel like a death march? It was a question you never thought to pose to yourself, until you faced the distance between your door and Astarion’s.
What could you even say to him? An apology was always a good start, but for what? Neither of you made any formal declarations of intentions towards each other. That was the whole point of this game of yours, to keep the other guessing. It wasn’t like you outright lied to him or made promises you didn’t intend to keep.
So why did you feel so guilty?
Of course, you could be working yourself up over nothing. He could just as easily laugh in your face.
With all these thoughts swirling in your mind, you were almost surprised to see the light beneath his door reflecting on your boots.
A lump of panic tightened your throat. From the angle of the light, he wouldn’t be able to tell you were standing there. There was still time to turn around, put it off until morning–.
“The door is open, darling.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. He didn’t sound upset or angry. Hell, he didn’t even sound smug. It was that rare gentleness he only took on when nobody else was looking. There were times it seemed to surprise even him. You didn’t stand a chance.
With a breath, you opened the door.
Warm candle light met your eyes, illuminating the room with a soft orange glow. The room itself was nothing special. Similar to yours it really only held the bed, desk and chair. The only noticeable difference was the widow facing due east, its curtains open allowing a view of the rain pittering against the window.
Astarion had insisted on this room. You understood why now. He always wanted to start the day facing the rising sun.
For a brief moment, you allowed the stillness of the moment to calm you, before turning your gaze to the man himself.
Oh thank the Gods, he was still dressed.
Astarion sat on the edge of the bed, in his most comfortable white ruffled shirt and black pants. Despite his casual appearance he still came off as nothing short of a prince awaiting his court. His lips were posed in a knowing smile as he regarded you, tilting his head to the side. The light of the candles caught his scarlet eyes, making them burn.
“Are you going to keep that open all night?” he asked.
Blinking, you turned to see your hand was still on the door handle. A little too quickly, you shut it behind you.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say.
“It’s quite alright,” he said, his tone only mildly teasing.
You stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to put your hands. How in the hells were you meant to start a conversation after everything he saw? You were a bard for Gods’ sake. Talking was supposed to be something you were good at. Still the silence lingered, becoming worse with every second.
Astarion raised an eyebrow. “What are you still doing way over there?”
You shrugged, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up your neck. “Is there somewhere else you want me?”
He gave you a playful smirk, offering his hand. “Come on. I’d promise not to bite, but…” He trailed off, widening his smile enough for his fangs to show.
Of all things, it was that small flash of teeth which put you at ease. He was poking fun at you. Surely that was a good sign.
Slowly, you walked toward him, taking his outstretched hand. He was cool to the touch. His fingers a mixture of manicured softness and well fought calluses, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. You centered in on sensation letting it the ground you back into the here and now.
He guided you to sit next to him, never letting his touch slip from yours.
“That was…quite a performance,” he said.
You gave a half hearted smile. It was as good a place to start as any, but you couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on the way his hand intertwined with yours. It should have frightened you or at the very least made you suspicious, but it felt too good. You didn’t want to break the spell.
“I wasn’t expecting it,” you said, honestly.
He gave a hum of agreement. “I don’t think any of us were.”
His hand trailed further up your arm, allowing his thumb to brush against the scars on your wrist.
A small shiver went through you. The scars on your neck had long since faded after the first night you let him feed on you. You’d made a point to only let him bite your wrist from that point onward. It was meant to hedge expectations. You’d thought a neck bite would make the act more charged than you intended. What a fool you were. Of course he’d find a way to make even the barest touch feel intimate.
“The melody alone…I’ve never heard its equal,” he continued.
You nodded, unsure what to do with his praise. You couldn’t dismiss it as easily as before. He sounded too sincere.
“Thank you,” you said, softly, “but I’m not sure how much credit I can take. It felt more like the song was playing me.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. How else could you explain such radiance?”
You felt now was the time for you to say something clever, but any words that might have formed fell heavy on your tongue as he moved your wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the raised marks of your skin. Your heart began to pound. No doubt he could feel every racing beat of it.
“Are you hungry?” you said, the words blurting out before you could stop them.
He laughed, the vibrations running down the length of your arm.
“Certainly,” he purred, turning his gaze to you. “But not for blood. I was hoping you’d let me indulge in some other parts of you.”
Panic struck you then, turning in your stomach as your eyes widened. “Astarion…”
“Don’t get shy on me now,” he said. He still held your wrist delicately in his hand allowing the other to brush lightly against your cheek.
Your breath shook and damn you to the hells if you knew exactly the cause.
“I saw you,” he whispered. “I saw what it is you truly desire. It was beautiful, passionate…starving, and all for me.” He leaned it close, the warmth of his breath dancing against your lips. “Am I wrong?”
Your mouth became dry as sand, forcing you to swallow. “Not entirely.”
“Would it surprise you then, to know I want the same thing?”
The sudden urge to laugh rose within you. Gods was this really happening? “I rather doubt that.”
“Then allow me to show you.”
Before you could say another word, he closed the small gap between you, pressing his lips to yours.
It was…nice; really nice, if you were being honest. His hand cupped your cheek, as if it were made of the finest porcelain. There was a care to his touch you hadn’t expected, leaving the door open for you to pull away. The assurance was enough to make you want to stay.
You’d always liked this part. In truth, you craved physical affection; holding hands, hugging, kissing, they had a way of making you feel so much closer to those you cared for. The trouble always came when people expected more.
He pressed further into you, teasing your mouth to spark a reaction.
You needed to pull away. If there was a time for you to stop, this was it. But, it did feel so good. Maybe you could indulge a little longer. It was just kissing.
Your own hand reached out, lacing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.
He hummed in approval, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.
You let yourself get lost in him. It was easy to forget when he held you so reverently. For a moment you could convince yourself this was all there was.
A slight shift in his body. His hands grasping you just a little tighter and next thing you knew you were on your back with Astarion hovering over you.
His low moan poured into your mouth as he slotted himself between your legs and pressed his weight against you.
Fear spiked within you, forcing the air from your lungs. Shit, this was happening.
His lips left yours trailing kisses across your cheek to the underside of your jaw.
“Just relax,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so well for me.”
His lips met your neck and it was taking everything in your power to breathe normally.
This wasn’t what you wanted, but it didn’t feel bad. Astarion was being so tender with you. Maybe, if you went through with it, things wouldn’t have to change. You could still flirt and tease. Hell maybe you could convince him to simply hold you now and again. All you’d have to do is let him have something for himself. It was more than a fair trade. Besides, he was experienced in this, certainly more than others you’d been with. You could do this for him. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before.
His hands moved further down your body, teasing the edge of your shirt.
The memory of that twisted melody came into your heart filling you with dread. The way you had been so willing to morph yourself into what somebody else wanted for the sake of not being alone. Wasn’t this supposed to be different?
“Wait, stop,” you said, before you had time to question yourself.
To your relief, Astarion didn’t hesitate pulling his hands away as if they just caught fire.
“Are you alright?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head, that familiar guilt twisting inside you at his concern. “No. You didn’t do anything, I just…” You swallowed. You weren’t going to cry. Not now. Gods, you were such an idiot. “Could you…could you move off me? Please.”
His brow furrowed, but he did not question you as he pulled himself away.
Cool air rushed over you, pulling a sigh of relief from your lips. For a long time you just laid there, calming the rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood. It was over. It was all over.
With an effort, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. Out of the corner of your eye Astarion watched you, his expression unreadable. You’d expect nothing less from him.
“I’m sorry,” you managed.
“I don’t need an apology,” he said, firmly, “but I would like an explanation.”
Slowly, as if to keep from frightening an cornered animal, he turned his body to face yours, making a point to keep a respectable distance. He really wasn’t going to make this easier for you.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
You shook your head fervently. “No. No, you were perfect. That’s rather the problem.”
His lips turned into a hard line, clearly unsure how to take your statement. His eyes then narrowed, leaning closer to more carefully examine your features.
“You’re not cursed, are you?” he asked, suddenly.
The question caught you off guard, forcing a laugh. “What?”
“You know, something something, any man who touches you below the belt is smited. That kind of thing.”
You shook your head, baffled as to where this conversation was headed. “No.”
He nodded, in consideration “Alright then, any diseases you neglected to inform me about?”
“No.”
“Hells, don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”
“Gods no!” you snapped, feeling your whole body go flush.
“Then what is it? One second you were there and the next…” he trailed off, before forcing a deep breath. “Look, I’m not angry, but if there is something wrong, I’d prefer to know.”
“Nothing is wrong,” you insisted.
“So why the hesitation?” he pressed. “You find me desirable. I’ve made clear I find you desirable. We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks and even have a proper mattress for the occasion. The only conclusion I can come to is there’s something you’re not telling me.”
You opened your mouth only to close it again, wracking your brain on how to start this.
To your shock, Astarion remained silent. It wasn’t the quiet entitled anger you had received in the past or even idle confusion. He looked like he truly wanted to know.
You let out a long sigh. There was no getting around it now.
“I do find you desirable,” you said. “The trouble is, physically speaking…I don’t really.”
He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t think I’m pretty?”
You had to laugh, shaking your head. “Astarion, I promise, you are possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t factor into why I desire you.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No,” you said plainly. “It never has. Not with anyone.”
He cocked his head, his eyes caught between his natural suspicion and genuine surprise. “Never?”
You shrugged.
“Above such things are you?” he said, dryly.
“It’s not as if I’ve taken a vow of chastity,” you snapped. “I’m not trying to achieve some arbitrary moral purity. I just never felt attracted to anyone in that way. I can look at someone and know objectively they’re beautiful or handsome or any number of other descriptors, but that need, that hunger so many people describe, it just never clicked.”
He continued to stare at you blankly before his mouth turned into a hard line.
“So when I was kissing you, just now. You didn’t feel anything?”
“Not especially,” you said, a little guilty. “Don’t get me wrong, it was pleasant. I do like being close to you. It’s just the things kissing leads to I’m not a fan of.”
You didn’t know what to make of the look that shot across his face. He seemed lost, somewhere far away, before blinking back to the present.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked.
“I meant to,” you assured. “I should have. I just…sometimes forget I don’t need a reason to say no.”
You took a breath, willing yourself to calm.
“I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking some part of me was broken. That if I waited long enough or tried hard enough, I’d feel the things I’m supposed to feel. I’ve come to terms with the fact I never will. I’m not upset about it. It just means that what I want, what I desire from another person, it’s different than most.”
He took that in, his red eyes peering deep into yours as if truly looking at you for the first time.
“So, if it’s not my body you desire, what else could you possibly want?”
You stared at him as his expression suddenly hardened. His whole body turned on edge as if waiting for you to cast the ending blow.
“What?” he prompted, sharply.
You shook your head. “You really don’t understand, do you?”
He gave you an incredulous look.
Keeping your movements slow and obvious, leaned closer to him. You reached out, moving towards his hand.
He didn’t pull away, but the guarded expression never faded.
You took that as a good sign, allowing your hand to rest on top of his as you looked him straight in the eyes.
“Astarion, when I say I desire you, I mean all of you,” you said, keeping your tone as clear and open so there could be no doubt of the truth of your words. “I want your attentions. I want your adoration. I want your petty jealousies and loud annoyances. I want your teasing. I want your promises and your secrets. I want nights filled with your laughter and mornings in your arms. I want to feel your heart in my chest. I want to know it beats for me. And in return, I want to give you mine. So no, I’m not especially interested in your body. But for the rest? I’m insatiable.”
He only stared at you. You supposed you should take it as a triumph. You’d found an effective way to shut him up at least; declare your overwhelming love for him.
“I know,” you said, softly. “It’s a lot. I’m a lot. But, you don’t have to worry. I don’t expect anything.”
“You don’t?”
You gave a self deprecating smile.“Despite all evidence to the contrary, I’m not an idiot. I know whatever…favor you gave me, it wasn’t real.”
“That’s not true,” he said quickly.
You gave him a doubtful look.
He grimaced. “Alright, maybe some of it was, but–.”
“It’s fine,” you cut off. “I know what game I was playing. I’m just not very good at it.”
You pulled your hand away, letting your eyes fall from his. Despite the coolness of his touch, somehow your hand felt even colder at the loss of it.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unnaturally unsure of itself.
You tried to smile. “Don’t be. I’ll get over it. I always do.”
Something in his eyes flicked in the firelight. His expression turned contemplative as he looked deeply into your eyes.
“I rather doubt that,” he murmured.
A sharp pain buried its way into your chest at his words, not because they were cruel or came from a place of arrogance, but because they were undeniably true.
You pushed yourself off the bed, forcing down the well of emotion threatening to burst from your eyes at any moment.
“I should go,” you said. “Goodnight.”
You made your way towards the door only to stop at the sound of your name. It was said so gently, like a desperate prayer.
You didn’t reach for it, not this time. It already burned too much.
Without another word, you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you leaving nothing but dark and silence.
Tag List:
@yaimlight, @hallowedandhungry, @bluestuesday, @meggsssart, @murmoruno, @prophetszendo, @cabbit17, @sunset-sunrise-sunshine, @isharaneith, @thisisew, @easy-there-leftovers, @ohhnoimbisexual, @dolceaspidenera, @dork-of-the-universe, @righteous-scamp, @ambrolyer, @our-little-shared-infinity, @baldursgateslittlestar, @pkail, @nanaoise08squad, @becksynthetic, @deliriumcrow, @badgerstorms-art, @taraiel, @writingmysanity
#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#bladur's gate iii#bg3#astarion bg3#astarion baldurs gate#bard!reader#asexual!reader#asexual#bard!tav#astarion x ace!tav#astarion x evie
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Title: Just Barely
Cyno x Bard! Reader ▪︎ Warnings: None ▪︎ Wc: 830+
Bard!reader masterlist • Continuation here
So I've been having thoughts on a sort of Bard!Reader that travels all around, spreading music and song wherever they go, and now they end up in Sumeru. Before the Sumeru quest of course.
Sumeru is not big on unapproved performances!! Especially from foreigners!! You ditched your Akasha ages ago so they can't track you or steal your dreams, and you pop up everywhere!! Singing your insipid little songs and dancing some hillbilly jig the Sages scoff at.
You're not anything significant – except the fact that with your appearance, more people are getting bold about their performing arts, especially that performance theater, so the Akademia decides to make an example out of you. So, they send their General Mahamatra.
Cyno is not one to question rules or orders. The law is just and he will uphold the law and punish those who defy it. And if you're disrupting the natural order then he will deal with you. Only, it doesn't go that way.
Every single time you're in a crowd. You choose your battlefields cleverly, and it doesn't matter how many other matra he has guard the exit posts, you always manage to scurry off. Sometimes you're already gone by the time he arrives, a whisp disappearing behind a corner, sometimes, he'd see you meld back into a rushing crowd with a smile and a wink, and you're gone. It's annoying. He has paperwork to do.
The chase gets to be long enough that his superiors just tell him to keep an eye on you, and apprehend you if he catches you in one of your performances. You visit Port Ormos and sing to the sailors, you visit the Grand Bazaar and dance with Nilou, you strum your lyre for children and bedridden nobles. Apparently, and according to rumor, you greet the Sun and Moon with a song as well. Too many people are fond of you already.
But he can't catch you. You disappear into the waves when you catch a glimpse of him, you dash across courtyards with shrieking laughter and jump out of windows and vanish just before he can get his hands on you, leaving nothing but crackling lightning and strange sear in his chest.
And, what? What will he do? Chain your hands and feet and tell you to stop singing? Cyno can see that this is the life of you. He has seen your feet dance faster than you run and once he heard your voice at the break of Dawn, indistinguishable underneath the bird's morning call but sweet and soft and calling, sending his heart trilling. Your hands flutter over strings, and he jolts when you pluck a note too high.
He sees it now as you sit on the curb near the Akademia, strumming your lyre. You're getting bold now.
He strides over, and the crowd's murmurs fall into frightened awe as he stops before you, and you don't even open your eyes or raise your head.
"General Mahmatra Cyno, to what do I owe this pleasure?" This is the closest he has ever been to you and never mind the way that your eyelashes brush your skin or the way your smile pulls your lips.
"Musical performances are banned on the grounds of the Akademia."
"But I'm not performing…? I'm simply tuning my lyre. Does that count?"
"Yes. Furthermore, loitering is also prohibited."
"Hm. I hate those two rules, you know? They exist everywhere here." Your scowl is pretty to. He does not know why he thinks this.
"They are meant for a reason. They exist for a reason." His hand tightens on his pole arm and he does not like the way his shadow falls over you, or the way you don't raise your head.
"They make it illegal to exist or be anywhere." You continue, unhindered.
"They prohibit the arts, practically ban it, and you want to know why?" You do not wait for an answer. "Because the arts have always been a means of human expression. An act of rebellion. And when we rebel and speak our truth through art and song, it means change, it makes people afraid.
"This is not what we should be frightened of. There will be fires and there will be storms, toppled gods and kingdoms, and there will be darkness again. And songs about the darkness." Your eyes cut up to him, suddenly, and they're not anything extraordinary, whether in color or shape. But you hold his gaze, and that is extraordinary enough.
"Why do you think this makes them afraid, General?"
He grits his teeth, and hears a crackle of lightning by his ear. He doesn't know why he's entertaining you.
"I am not here to debate the worth of the arts to you. Remove yourself from the premises immediately or you will be escorted out."
You just look up at him, and sigh, and draw yourself up, joints clicking. You pop your joints with a furrowed brow as you turn away, but before that you ask a question.
"Cyno," the audacity you have. "Riddle me this. Do you believe that the law is just, or do you believe that upholding the law is just?"
"There is no difference." By the pitying look on your face, you beg to differ.
You leave, and the passing breeze of your departure smooths itself over his skin like a kiss. He doesn't watch you go. His fist tightens.
#my stuff#my writing#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#cyno#genshin cyno#cyno x reader#cyno x gender neutral reader#cyno imagines#small fic#bard!reader#reader insert#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact cyno x reader#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#thoughts#brainrot#genshin impact cyno
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A devil in disguise
Yandere fantasy ocs x gn reader
They're not really yandere in this fic, I'm saving that for later
Tw: none that I can think of, not proofread 🌺
⭐you were just an ordinary villager. Living in a cottage you Inherited, making a living by owning a bakery in the nearby village. You didn't think there was anything appealing about you. Nothing making you stand out. Well, the villagers thought differently. It was mainly filled with different mythical races, making you the only human.
⭐one day you were setting up shop like always, a suitor or two trying to get your attention when suddenly screams could be heard from outside. Rushing to see what was the commotion, a young.. girl? Man? Was fighting off a horde of wild goblins. Littering the ground with their little bodies. They fought valiantly, slashing one after the other.
⭐in the end they came out victorious, but heavily injured. You herded the other villagers away, a bar maiden helping you pick up the adventurer and taking them to your little bakery. She set them down and quickly left as you looked for your first aid, carefully cleaning up the blood and grime off their face.
⭐you did end up requiring to remove their clothing to better patch them up, sincerely hoping they wouldn't feel uncomfortable once they woke up. You stayed overnight in the bakery since your cottage was pretty far and you didn't want to leave the newcomer alone. The sound of fabric rustling woke you up.
⭐ lifting your gaze upwards, you were met with big green eyes staring into your own, faces inches apart. Their blonde hair was messy and a strand draped across their face. They reached a hand out, and booped your nose before pulling away. Intently observing the room.
"uhm.. thank you for fighting off those feral goblins. What is your name, sir or ma'am..?"
"Gideon. What is your name, lovely lady?"
"y/n. It's a pleasure to meet you"
⭐Gideon thanked you repeatedly and offered to help you out for a bit. You agreed, and with the time they spent with you,you learned they were a he. They didn't mind any pronouns, just that they were born amab.
"you see. I was on my way here to wait for my friends when I noticed those nasty green bastards hiding in the bushes. I couldn't just let those vermin attack such a lovely village."
"you're very brave Gideon.. I wish I knew how to swing a sword"
"I can teach you, if you'd like my dear"
⭐ Gideon shows you the basics of wielding a sword, he offered to show you how to hunt game aswell. The first hunt came out.. interesting. He'll have to make you exercise with him daily from now on.
⭐2 weeks have passed now, Gideon was helping you bring groceries into your cottage when you heard a loud yelling coming from not too far away
"GIDEON!? IS THAT YOU?"
⭐ turning around, you spot a girl who seems to be your age standing a few feet away. She seemed tired yet so elated. Gideon set down the basket carrying the vegetables and quickly rushed over to her
"darling! Oh there you are! Where are the others? Are you alright? You're not hurt are you?"
⭐the girl waved off his worrying, about to say something when suddenly she turned her attention to you
"Wow.. well hello there gorgeous~"
⭐the girl walked up to you, wiggling her eyebrows and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. You could only stare at her and laugh in mild amusement. After Gideon thoroughly disciplined her on why she shouldn't flirt with people she doesn't know, you learned that their entire party were on their way to recollect him.
⭐so now you had 2 roommates. It was pretty fun, they helped with chores and kept you company. Darling seemed to really like your bakery, helping every chance she could. They enjoyed being with you, you were so much fun! They knew they'd have to leave as soon as the others came, so One night, the two waited for you to go to sleep. Talking outside near a pond, a bit far away from the cottage
"I don't know Gideon.. they're not exactly built for adventuring with us.."
"yes.. but you weren't built for this life either. We trained you. And we can do the same for our little y/n. They already knows the basics, We'll just need to convince them before the others arrive"
⭐and that's what they did. For the next three days, they kept pestering you to join their party. So don't worry, they'll train you. Aren't you tired of this boring life? Don't you wanna explore? Just find someone to run your bakery for you until you come back!
⭐and that's how you ended up here. Catching a ride on ogmund, the party's barbarian tank. You were happily chatting away, braiding his hair while you were at it. He told you all about his tribe, orc traditions, his past adventures. You nodded along, adding input every now and then
⭐darling was walking alongside you both, chewing on something, you don't know what, and holding ogmund's hand. The orc seemed use to the girls touchy nature. Darling was the party's druid. Specializing in healing and natural magic. Her little ears would twitch, with the occasional flick of her tail. Panther hybrids were so cute.
⭐Gideon was the party's paladin, you remembered they told you about their reasoning for choosing this life. As a boy his family was slaughtered, leaving only him and his younger sibling rougé Alive. Their mothers were brothel workers while their father was the owner. Don't ask them about their family.
⭐rougé was the party's bard. They were a half elf, like their brother and very flirty and touchy with whoever they deemed as a fun pick. Darling seemed to be their main target since she gets easily flustered. You had the sneaking suspicion they often slept together with how their physical affections towards her seemed too intimate. The only reason they didn't come after you so often was because they didn't ogmund to snap their spine in half
⭐mikal was the party's sorcerer. A stubborn little prick, proud and haughty. Just give him a good thwack on the head and he'll shut up. Once, you you were playing with his hair and he stood rigid the entire time. Simply nodding when you'd compliment his beautiful silver locks. It contrasted well with his near black skin. Who knew dark elves were so sexy? (Fucking everyone)
⭐venus was the party's cleric, and boy, darling had massive beef with him. For what reason? You don't know, they just really fucking hated eachother. Venus, out of everyone, was the most reserved. It'll take you a whole to tear down his walls but you'll get there eventually.
⭐from what the party told you, you were on your way to save a couple friends. You were practically buzzing with excitement, your first real adventure! Maybe you'd find a fighting class that suits you best while you're at it.
⭐ blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes staring at you from stop the trees..
#queenie ocs#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#ocs#queenie writes#yandere male#yandere male x reader#male yandere#yandere#Yandere female x reader#Yanderes x reader#Yandere x reader#Yandere poly#Poly yanderes#Yandere girl x reader#Yandere boy x reader#Yandere boyfriend x reader#Yandere girlfriend x reader#yandere fantasy#Fantasy ocs#Yandere ocs x reader#Yandere oc x reader#yandere x you#yandere scenarios#yandere drabble#yandere headcanons#Yandere orc x reader#Yandere barbarian x reader#Yandere druid x reader#Yandere bard x reader
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The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous.
#HEY ITS MORE UNKNOWABLE KIM DOKJA!!!#i finally put clothes on his bitch ass its been so long#anyways you ever think about how no one really properly saw kdjs face for like A While if at all in orv#because i do#i do often#orv#omniscient reader#omniscient readers viewpoint#kdj#kim dokja#bard draws
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"Can you meet me halfway (I'll meet you halfway" | hobbit
pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]
you went out clubbing on new years eve when a gorgeous rich couple hits on you and invites you back to their apartment to finish what you started right on the dancefloor
warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️, modern!AU, threesome, oral sex (male & female), dirty talk, semi-public-sex, soft dom! bard and bratty dom!thranduil, protected sex, fingering, passing out during sex, slight overstimulation, age-gap (reader is of age, though its described that thranduil and bard are older), hairpulling, aftercare,
words: 13,8k
an: this is by far the dirtiest thing i've ever written and my god i'm not a smut writer; i get too flustered over my own writing lmao. Hopefully you can enjoy this out-of-character story even if it isn't new years anymore!
inspired by early 2000s club bangers like Kesha, Britney Spears, Black Eyed Peas (that's where the title came from) and Lady Gaga
+ masterlist +
🌿 reposts and comments or anonymous messages in my inbox are very appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3
"What?!"
"I said," the barkeeper leaned closer and pushed a filled to the rim shotglass over the counter, "this one is from the pretty one to your right!"
With a myriad of people in this club who fit your definition of "pretty" you found yourself on the brink of shouting at the red-haired bartender once more.
This would mark the third attempt, given that the club's 2000s music was blaring to the extent that communication was damn near impossible if you weren't screaming or using your hands trying to get orders across the sticky, littered with neon glowstick wristbands counter.
Before you could ask her who the hell she'd meant, the bartender had turned away, leaving you to figure out the mystery man for yourself.
You lifted the shot glass to your nose and took a deep breath— pure tequila.
At least you would enjoy this one; the last few shots other men had sent over to you had been nothing but disgusting, ranging from vodka to Jägermeister and one you didn't even bother to drink.
The world spun a little when you turned your head over your shoulder and for a second the flashy lights blurred the people crowding the bar into one mass, unidentifiable and mushed together; then your eyes zeroed in on him and pretty didn't even begin to cover it.
Next to the bar, holding out his own shot glass in hands that could've fit three or five of them, stood a man that was intimidatingly gorgeous and decently tall even as he rested his hip cheekily against one of the chairs, elbow on the wooden top while he flicked his fingers against the rim of the glass.
Not even that he was just tall, and he was –surely taller than most of the men standing between you two –, but he had this quality about him that let him stand out of the crowd.
Maybe it was the hair, blonde like starlight and pulled into a long and messy ponytail, with just a few loose strands framing his strong jawline. Or maybe it was the smug look on his face, the smirk that tugged on his lips when you dragged your eyes over the see-through shirt that clung to his well... and oh so– so well-defined chest.
On any other occasion, you would have simply raised the glass and disappeared back into the crowd of dancing people, but tonight felt different.
New Year's Eve had that ring to it. The careless "Fuck it all, it's all going to shit anyway"-attitude.
Any newspaper or media marked today the last day of yet another frustrating, wonderful, soul-crushing, draining, exciting, and overall overwhelming year, full of things you regretted having done, and as you stared at the man meeting your gaze with a questioning arch of a dark eyebrow, you found yourself giving a flying fuck about whether you'll add another mark on that board.
There was a surge of power washing through your body as you toasted the glass in his direction before tipping it against your lips and letting the tequila rush into your mouth.
The alcohol went down burning, hot, and dry and left a warm trail down your throat into your stomach.
"I see you not only bear a resemblance to the devil, you drink like her as well," a sultry voice drawled, sufficiently loud for you to lift your head.
Somehow the man had managed to appear right next to you within seconds and got so close that you were confronted with a very exciting view of his chest.
You eyed it, naturally because who wouldn't take their time looking at the flexing pecs covered in silver glitter and sweat?
Slowly, you dragged your gaze upwards, only faltering for a moment at the sight of a pink tongue running over plush lips. You met his eyes again, this time with no more than half a meter separating you and you were glad your knees didn't buckle like they threatened to do.
"And what are you? Some angel that has fallen from heaven?" Your counter was weak, a bad example of what was usually some excellent flirting, if you dare say yourself, but it's all you could manage with those cerulean eyes staring down at you in interest.
He laughed, thank fucking god, and tilted his head to the side. "It must be fate that we met, is it not?"
"Buy me another drink and we'll see"
Somehow, it didn't surprise you that he simply raised his pointer finger and the server immediately rushed to prepare whatever order he'd signaled her.
"Unfair, I waited, like at least five minutes for some water," you complained, not really putting any real annoyance into it but pouting nonetheless for the effect.
It went a long way because the stranger stepped closer, up into the little bit of personal space one could have in an overcrowded club, and cooed, "What a shame. Who could ever pass such a lovely face and not serve you right away?"
"I don't know," you sighed and smiled at him sweeter than sugar, "I do know that we shouldn't let that tequila go to waste though"
"Then be a good girl and drink up"
Oh, yeah.
Suppose you hadn't already contemplated sleeping with him, that certainly solidified your decision.
This wasn't just fate, this must be compensation for all the shit you've been through this year, wrapped up nicely in 6 feet and more of dripping sex and sultry smiles.
Eyes locked, you both clinked the glasses together before throwing them back. You couldn't help it when your lashes flutter shut.
Once again, the tequila burned all the way down to your stomach, adding to the cocktail of drinks that lowered your inhibitions and made your core throb in excitement.
You would've asked him for salt and lemon if he hadn't looked so unbothered by the pure taste. His lips didn't twitch, while you're sure yours were pulled into a grimace.
"Thank you, Sir," the words left your mouth without a second thought.
Thinking, in general, started to become more of a theory than something you were willing to do tonight; much too exhausting if you could simply let your tongue run wild.
He rewarded you for that decision, for his eyes widened and he stepped even closer, now slotting one of those long legs - and fuck, was he really wearing leather pants? Who had access to your wet dreams?- between yours as he leaned down.
"I must say you caught my interest the moment I saw you on the dance floor," He placed a hand on the countertop, not touching you yet, though the invitation he gave you, the silent question for permission, spoke for itself.
The second move was on you to lure him in and you blinked up at him while you trailed your fingers over the arm, scratching hairless skin with the tip of your nails until it changed into the fishnet top and you placed the hand to rest on one strong shoulder. The red color of your nail polish made such a beautiful contrast to his fair skin that your mind conjured imagines of how they must look on other parts of him.
Surely, with the size of him…
Now that you initiated the contact, he drove forward with his second hand, and the large palm cupped your chin.
While the touch was hot in how it's delivered, so dominating, and fuck if that didn't send warm licks of pleasure down your spine, his hand itself was surprisingly cold.
The temperature in the club was almost unbearable, only manageable through refreshing drinks and a trip or two to the bathrooms, and the spikes of the cool touch fought the heat pooling in your body.
One of those silky locks of hair brushed your neckline, falling right into the cut out of your dress that his eyes shamelessly took in from his higher-up viewpoint.
You took a deep breath, maybe even pushed out your chest as he eyed it in the knowledge that the lace bra was showing through.
All you inhaled was the intoxicating smell of his cologne, vanilla (even though you suspected he is anything but...), and something sweet and without a doubt expensive.
You're addicted to it the moment it hit your nose and clouded your mind.
"Do you not believe that an appropriate thank you is in order?" he inquired; no, he demanded.
You decided to play dumb, not because you thought he's into that – on the contrary, he seemed the kind of man who admired eloquence and intellect rather than dullness – but because it's a game you both enjoyed playing.
There was intrigue in tip-toeing around what is most obvious (lust as well as the urge to rip each other's clothes off as soon as possible, maybe even a fuck in the bathrooms).
"I thought I already said thank you," you mused, pushing out your lower lip into a pout again, "and that lousy shot is hardly worth more than a few words. You can't expect something greater if there is nothing to thank for."
He raised a dark eyebrow – you wondered if he colored his hair or eyebrows – and the hand around your chin lifted your head to twist it right and left.
One smooth thumb brushed over the pout, and he clicked his tongue. "Now now, I would consider this greedy if you were not in the right. You poor thing must be exhausted after all the dancing"
His eyes flashed when yours widened; he really did notice you before, had watched you.
"Yes," he drawled as if he read your mind, and his lips curved into a smirk that flashed a row of perfect bright teeth, "I saw how you moved out there, how wanton you presented yourself. However, it did not escape my notice that you rebuffed anyone who dared to approach."
When you opened your mouth to say something, his finger swiped over your lip again. Without hesitation, you sucked on the fingertip, collecting a few drops of tequila that you made a show of swallowing.
The protest disappeared with it down your throat.
He was right, why deny it?
The way you danced was just an expression of how comfortable you felt in your own body, the rhythm provided by provocative music a tool to follow the movements.
Everything you did, you did for yourself, not for the men who attempted to touch you simply because they were captivated by the dancing. As if you would accept some clammy hands grabbing for you.
"Maybe it was wanton," you said after releasing his finger, but not without scratching your teeth over it.
His pupils dilated, his chest raised at a sudden inhale of air; he apparently underestimated you.
You nodded your head toward the dance floor, "maybe I came here to look for a good fuck, but it's my decision who I take and not theirs"
"As you should. Those boys who tried and failed miserably were amusing to watch. None of them were good enough for you, right, sweetheart?"
You hummed in agreement as well as disagreement. "I'm not searching for anyone good enough," you thought back to all the good-guys who had lured you in with promises of treasuring you only to become insufferable with their need to control in the end.
"Then what do you need?"
"I want someone bad," the tone in your voice was challenging, just like the stare you gave him. "I want someone who won't be afraid to break me"
There was a slight tug on your chin, his hand pulled you in slightly but any further without any movement from you, it would've cause a strain in your neck.
You craved it.
The blonde god, he must be, the thought became clearer with any passing second, a gift, a god, an angel, crushed his mouth against yours. There was a fleeting moment where you realized you didn't know his name, but then his other hand wrapped around your neck, and your teeth clashed, and you found yourself not caring one bit.
You're sure he wouldn't mind if you moaned "God" instead of his name. Maybe he would even get off to it.
Only one way to find out.
It turned out quite hard to manage saying anything at all, his kisses stole every last bit of oxygen, robbing you of the ability to string together words and turning you into a whimpering mess with his tongue and wandering hands.
He called you a devil yet here he was, corrupting you in a way that will ruin you for any other person.
"You taste divine," he sounded as breathless as you felt when you separated and dizziness cultivated in your lust-clouded head at the compliment rasped in that deep voice of his.
"Do not worry," he continued, smearing the string of spit that connected you over your plush lips, "If you allow me I will try my very best to break you"
Hell or heaven, wherever he was leading you right now, your need tripped over itself eagerly.
When was the last time you were this aroused? You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter, and that only through his words and kisses; the state he could push you into if he truly fucked you would be completely new territory, you realized.
A nod is all you could manage.
The last you saw on his face was a wide grin before he kissed you again, this time though, he moved on to your jaw and then your neck. You beared it to him by tilting your head, eyes falling on the ceiling where the neon lights hushed over black brick, coloring your sight while your face took on a flushed red.
The blond devil nipped and bit, sucked and scratched in a manner so animalistic you wouldn't have thought a surely unquestionably sophisticated man to be able to.
You whimpered again, and your hands rose to grab something, anything and you found that ponytail the most accessible. Your fingers twirled a few soft strands as you gasped when his teeth sunk into the delicate skin right where your neck and shoulder met, and the slight pain following wasn't unwelcome.
It made you feel alive.
You're close to pulling him away to the bathroom– an amused laugh to your side prevented that thought from festering any further.
"I'm away for one smoke and you just couldn' wait?"
Unable to think straight after the assault on your neck, it took a moment for you to come back to your senses that don't revolve around lips, kiss, bite, fuck, suck…
Your sight spun as you snapped your head back, nearly knocking your chin into the man still busy marking you up, unbothered that there was another man watching you and clearly waiting for an answer.
So you decided to do the only thing that must convince him to let go, and you pulled on his hair.
He growled, fucking growled, and his lips twisted, flashing his teeth again.
Your heart dropped into your wet panties until you found he wasn't pinning you to the floor with the hard stare but the new arrival.
"Did you not see that I was busy?" he snapped at the dark-haired man, and while you felt slightly scared he was going to rip his handsome head off, the man only sported an annoyed expression.
"Yes, exactly. If I remember correctly, we decided to wait until I get back?"
Decided, waited?
"You took too long"
The man threw his head back in a raspy laugh, "Incorrigible bastard. Will I have to sit you down with a toy to keep you busy while I'm away?"
The blonde turned back to you and smirked, "That will not be necessary as I am quite capable of finding my own toys"
"Hey!" you cut into the conversation, not amused that they talked as if you weren't right there, "I'm not a fucking toy!"
Both men turned to you now, towering over you in their height, and mustering you so intensely that you slightly squirmed under their gaze.
The man with salt and pepper hair chuckled. "I am so sorry, Darlin'. I hope Thranduil didn't play too hard?"
Considering that you still felt the scratch of his teeth on your neck and the wet spit he left there, you felt like some kind of chew toy one would throw their dog but nevertheless, you pushed your chin up high. "Nothing I can't take."
The blonde's, Thranduil's, hand on your waist pulled you into him possessively. "I told you there is some bite behind the pretty face," he smirked.
While it didn't escape you that this hinted to a previous conversation, a plan formed over you, it's the attractiveness of them that led you to turn a blind eye.
"Weren't you the one biting a minute ago?" The music made it hard to talk normally and you stood up on your tiptoes to yell the words, but all that it resulted in is a deep chuckle.
"Oh, I like you," the other man laughed as well.
You took him in, the tight pants that showed off strong thighs and the black and gold shirt with more buttons open than actually buttoned that presented muscles and hair leading down and oh–
"What a surprise," you said, looking up to meet his hungry eyes, "I find I like you too" You turned your head to Thranduil, who smirked and sent you a wink that had you blushing, "So how's this gonna work? I'm going to be blunt and say that five minutes ago I was convinced you and I were on the same page, what's with your friend?"
"Husband"
"Husband?!" you parroted, unconvinced yet when your eyes fell on their hands a gold ring flashed back at you from both fingers.
Heat curled in your body like molten lava at lustful and otherwise utterly inappropriate thoughts this provoked of these two married man having their way around your body.
Thranduil bowed his head lower again, playfully nipping at the part of your neck that surely was already bruising. "I have to admit that I promised Bard to wait for him to come back, though I found I could not follow through when I saw you approaching the bar."
You swallowed. Hard. Not that it helped your very dry throat.
Bard came closer, reclaiming your attention.
His face, more defined than Thranduil's, was adorned with a rugged layer of dark stubble, crow's feet framing his vivid green eyes when he smiled at you. He looked the picture of a soft soul, but you remembered that this couple was picking up a third partner on New Year's Eve, so you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.
There was some spice behind the old-armchair-and-book-vibes.
"Will that be a problem, Darlin'?" he asked in that ruff voice, posh and Welsh accent dripping over you.
A refreshment to hear that accent in this city, so enthralling in how it wrapped around you; especially that damn nickname. There was no way you would say no to him.. both of them if he called you Darling one more time.
You shook your head. "No. I think I'll just need a bit more liquid encouragement if I am to survive this night."
"Oh, what a shame," Thranduils lips left where they continued to suck and lap on your neck, peppering kisses, leaving bruises, and moved to your earlobe. His voice dropped as much into a whisper as the music allowed it, "I had my hopes on fucking you into heavenly spheres"
There went the last string of sanity holding you back.
Hearing a man who was seemingly hell-bent on avoiding abbreviations like "don't" and "can't" at all costs speak in such a filthy way was something you never knew you needed.
"I hope you can follow through with that," you trailed a hand over his smooth chest, collecting glitter on your way and smeared it over his throat where his adams apple bobbed, "because if you break that promise like you did the one with your husband, I will just have to let him finish the job"
Thranduil yanked you back into him, back into a kiss that seared itself into your memories and burned the touch, taste, and movement of his lips into every cell of your body.
It was almost aggressive how much teeth went into the kiss, how he bit down and all you could do was gasp and whimper.
Briefly, you thought of the poor people around you, because if all you wanted to do was get a drink and were confronted with one person devouring the other, you would be seething but right now you were being the one he kissed, whose sounds he swallowed and whose hands held you to him.
So fuck them.
With your senses heightened now that you wanted these men all over you, the sensation of Bard leaning in, hair tips tickling your neck as he licked Thranduil's throat, led you to pull away from the blonde. You watched as Bard sprinkled something flaky and white onto the spot wet with spit, and only when he lifted a shot glass the thought crystalized that he salted Thranduil for you.
"Come on," Thranduil's smirk taunted you just as much as his words, "What is another lousy shot? We even made it easy for you poor baby, after you could not take the first one easily"
Rolling your eyes at the mocking, you dove in to copy Bard. The salt sticking to his neck coated your tongue and you took longer than necessary to lick the skin free of it. The rush that this sent through you was exhilarating.
As soon as you were finished, your head got tilted backward firm and yet gently.
Rough fingertips cupped your neck and one thumb moved to press against your jaw, as you felt a solid chest in your back.
"Open wide, Darlin'," Bard ordered and encouraged you to follow him as his other thumb pushed between your teeth.
You obeyed, never once breaking eye contact with Thranduil and taking in his lust-blown pupils, as Bard poured the tequila into your mouth, directly down your throat. Then, while you pulled a grimace, shutting your eyes for a second, Bard turned you around, sandwiching you between them.
When you opened your eyes again, you saw the green slice of lemon between his teeth and following the wink he sent you; you knew exactly what was to come next.
Kissing Bard was very different from getting kissed by Thranduil.
His lips were slightly cracked, not soft and they tasted like smokey whiskey and cigarettes, with hints of coffee and lime instead of fruity cocktails and rose chapstick. Lifting one hand to his face, your fingertips grazed the rough beard growing on his sharp jawline, the stubble scratching you in a promising way.
While you had been surprised when Thranduil had kissed you, you eagerly answered Bard's kiss with fervor. Your mind already teetered on the brink of shutting down and you poured the desperation into his mouth with a moan.
He chuckled, drawing back just enough that he could spit out the lemon – sucked empty – before wiping his thump over your lips.
"Sweet thing"
There was a softness in that gesture, but only short-lived before he kissed you again. His hands trailed your body, coming to rest on either side of your neck again and even that slight of pressure loaded a million images through your head.
A second pair of hands joined him on you, it's confusing until a large body pressed into your back and you realized- it was only Thranduil.
Well, only…
It had been clear that the man could and would not accept being reduced to anything. He radiated an attitude that you would call bratty but with his expensive clothes, that rich perfume, and the wave of the hand that brought him drinks, aristocratic diva seemed more fitting.
His demanding character became clear when his hands set on your waist, immediately fingering the seam of your jeans, pulling you more into him by the belt loops.
You followed that tug, though Bard deepened the kiss to keep you by him, his tongue exploring your mouth and enticing you to breathlessly moan against his smiling lips.
Despite the loud music, Thranduil's voice was loud in your ear.
"As stunning as you right now, I can not help but imagine you squirming on our silk sheets– moving those bewitching hips of yours," Thranduil playfully took the burning tip of your ear into his mouth, "If you want to follow this invitation, of course"
"Whatever you just said," Bard broke away from you to look over your shoulder at his husband, "It better have been the idea of finally getting out of here" he pushed his hips against yours for you to feel the hard outline of him, "because I don't want to wait til the ball drops"
"Is that a metaphor?"
"Thran–" There was a warning edge in Bard's voice, and you felt Thranduil huff.
"Funny, how this old man can not take a joke as soon as he is aroused"
It's absurd how casually he said this while his hands slid down the front of your jeans, earning himself a gasp from you.
Unashamed as a man only his status can be, he toyed with the seam of your underwear, not caring one bit for the glare of his husband.
Your body arched into him, answering the question he had whispered earlier.
The only thing keeping you from getting down on your knees to worship him and his obviously talented fingers was the blaring music, reminding you that you were not yet somewhere private and very much on display.
You briefly wondered if these two were rich enough to simply pay their way out of a public indecency arrest. You wouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't even get arrested.
Since Thranduil made no sign of disengaging himself from you, you stepped away from him, right against Bard's chest.
"Shall we go? Your husband mentioned luxury sheets which I bet are more comfortable than a threesome on the dance floor"
The way out of the club presented itself as more difficult than you would have thought.
With Bard shoving a path through the dancing crowd in front of you, holding on to one hand, Thranduil breathing down your neck and you pausing now and again because "Oh my gosh, I love this song!" it took a lot longer than necessary.
Not that any one of you minded.
Lost in the mass of people shouting, dancing, and pushing you three closer together and the tequila in your bloodstream you ended up undulating to Nicki Minaj's 'Pound The Alarm' completely lost on the fact that both men had stopped to watch you.
The lights were colorful and sharp and in their hues, Bards and Thranduil's jawlines looked even sharper tinted red, blue, green, and whenever the disco ball flashed white across their faces the lust in their eyes caused shivers on every part of you.
Thranduil's hands moved to your lower abdomen, making it easy to grind against him as you raised your hands to Bard's strong shoulders.
Two huge pairs of hands gripped your waist from either side and held you steady and close to themselves, keeping everyone else from getting any nearer than they allowed.
"Fucking hell– Darlin' you drive me crazy!" Bard yelled over the music as you suddenly decided to drop down intact with the beat, dragging your nails over his torso.
You laughed, low and full-heartedly.
Coming up, his hands moved to the flushed skin that your shirt had revealed by riding up, holding you tight to sweep you away into a kiss.
One thigh, leather, and flexing muscles shoved itself between your thighs and you responded eagerly, grinding against it without a second thought.
Just when you thought you were ready to finally go, the song ended and faded into yet another pop hit. 'LoveGame' by Lady Gaga and intact of the low thumping beat, Thranduil's hips circle against your behind, pressing what was an impressive hardness into your arse while his deep voice switched from singing to humming the lyrics.
One of his hands spread over your abdomen, the other arm blindly reached for Bard and pulled him into a kiss right over your head.
Amid the mass of sweaty people and the multicolor array of colors flashing over Thranduil's blonde hair, the 2000s music blaring through the speakers and resonating in every cell of your fevered body, they looked hot enough for the porn industry to sign them under contract.
You were never making it out of the club.
You did make it out eventually, sweat dripping down your temple, Thranduil's chest in your back whenever you stumbled, his hands steadying you.
On what you assumed was an oversight or blind eye of the club owners the crowd had doubled in the last hour.
Far too many people joined the floor and even with Bard's commanding presence leading you it had been close to impossible to step forward and not swerve out of the way of someone drunk.
Outside, the line curved around the block, and those who waited or didn't get into the club or even just hung in groups celebrating on the streets blocked the whole sidewalk.
A number of fireworks were already soaring into the air, sent up there by early birds who couldn't wait until midnight – cheered up by loud excited screams and laughter as the dark night sky lit up here and there with colorful explosions.
Quite sobered up, the dancing had contributed to that, you stared at them.
"How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here?" you asked and crossed your arms in front of you; the winds were biting cold and you hadn't bothered bringing a jacket, "It's madness."
"We will just get a cab"
You barked out a laugh though Bard stayed completely serious.
"Wait, that wasn't a joke?" you rubbed your palms over the naked skin, still warm and thrumming with the afterglow of the unbearable heat of the club, although the cold fought hard and unfairly.
"No, sweetheart, it wasn't," Thranduil said, not bothered by the chaos of people pushing each other, waving their hands like they're trying to flag down a spaceship.
On this day, the chances for that to happen were more likely than actually getting a cab.
He took one step into the busy street, and you yelped, overcome by the shock that he just walked into fucking traffic, his long ponytail swaying with his steps.
Then, like movie magic, a car swerved to the side and stopped right next to Thranduil.
Bard pulled you along, your hand cradled to his chest so as not to lose you. Thranduil opened the door, gracefully sitting down behind the empty passenger seat.
You stumbled onto the back seat next to him, and mumbled a half-hearted "Hello" to the driver, who gave you a nod – a nod, an hour before midnight, from a cap driver, fucking miracles– before shut the plastic window close.
"Holy crap," you exhaled. "Is this what the high life's like? Getting drinks and cabs without any fucking effort?"
Despite the crude and cutting words swinging in their direction, Bard and Thranduil chuckled. The synchronized deep sound reverberated in the quiet cab, warming up the space instantly.
"Do you really think that this" – Thranduil languidly gestures to all of him – "takes no effort?"
Bard huffed. He leaned into you as if he wanted to whisper a secret, but didn't lower his voice: "We were supposed to be here five hours ago. Took him that long to figure out what to wear." He shot a teasing grin at his husband.
"Oh, I have had enough of your whining," In one elegant movement Thranduil folded one long leg over the other. The point of his boot caught your shin in a soft tap that drew your attention to him.
He smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If you are interested, though, I could show you what it is like to ride the waves of the high life"
"Is that a metaphor?"
"No," Bard's lips ghosted over your neck, peppering more kisses to the skin there, "A promise for an unforgettable high"
You were unable to think of what they could propose.. well, you could, but they wouldn't, not here in this cap, right?
Bard's legs were spread a little far apart and, fuck, the flickering lights of the city flying by highlighted a very prominent bulge that he made no effort of hiding. Was he going commando?!
Your eyes snapped back, burning a hole into the roof of the cab.
A hand fell behind you on the headrest at the same moment as Thranduil's cold fingers slipped onto your thigh.
Thranduil's hand snuck to your jeans and played with the button and zipper before,
Oh-
he opened your jeans and immediately slid his cold, long, slender fingers down your panties.
Oh, fuck
Your hips twitched into his hand and you had to bite down on your finger to muffle the gasp that itched behind your teeth.
Without a care in the world, Thranduil cupped your sex, mumbling something to himself under his breath that sounded like a "So fucking wet- for us?" and worked his middle finger into you.
Pulling it out again, he started circling your clit, smearing your own slick over it, moving right over the spot where your nerve endings were sparking white and hot and you shuddered uncontrollably.
The chill of his fingertips heightened your sensitivity. Still flushed all hot from the club, you instinctively arched upward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as Thranduil's fingers tapped against your swollen wet clit.
The noise prompted his gaze to lock onto yours.
Your gasp broke off as your hips nearly flew off the seat and it was only for the belt snapping tightly against your lower abdomen that your head didn't make contact with the roof.
That, and the arm Bard put around your shoulders. He held you down and gave you his biceps to let your head fall against something that wasn't the uncomfortable seatrest.
Your cheeks flushed under Thranduils scrutiny, as well as at the general scene and obscenity of everything, and a subtle smirk played on his lips.
"Do you enjoy that?" His voice was flirty, and while you want to retort that it should be very clear how much you liked his fingers fucking into you, you only managed a nod.
"Say it." He leaned forward, a teasing glint in his eyes. His fingers stopped, clearly waiting for you to obey his order. "Use your words, you still know how, right? I haven't even started, clearly there must be something you could tell me."
"Yes," your admission was barely a whisper, but it sufficed.
Thranduil hummed, using his other hand to open your legs as wide as the tight jeans allowed it before he worked two agile fingers into your throbbing cunt.
You stared at him through half-lidded eyes, watching his relaxed demeanor while fingering you open without caring about anything else.
The heel of his hand pressed into your pelvis, giving him a reasonably steady hold in the jolting cab so that he could hit a spot inside you with precision and with every, goddamn, perfect, thrust of his fingers that made you pant out.
"Thran-" the nickname you heard Bard call him slipped out unconsciously, it's the only thing you could pull out of the depth of your mind, "Thran.. please"
"Beggin' already?" Bard chuckled, "Darlin' you have seen nothing yet and here you are, beggin' to cum in the back of a cab."
"Bard you have no idea how fucking wet she is. She's dripping down my hand, squeezing my fingers, and fuck she's so tight," Thranduil muttered and as he slipped his other hand to the one slipping and sliding against your g-spot in a maddening relentless rhythm, he rubbed them over your folds.
He collected some of your wetness on those fingers, circling your clit again before pulling them away, out of your pants, and to your horror, he held them up into the air, inspecting how his fingers glistened in the city lights.
He rubbed them together, all right in the view of the rear back mirror of the cab driver, who – thank god – kept his eyes on the road and only turned up the radio in unspoken ignorance of what was happening in his car.
God, you hoped these men would tip him adequately.
"Here," Thranduil reached his arm out past your half-opened lips and for a moment you thought he was going to offer you his fingers, but he leaned further forward.
A gasp broke out of you as you watched Bard open his mouth and greedily took both fingers right between his lips, and.. sucked.
His eyes fell shut with a contented sigh as if he were tasting his favorite drink.
You saw his tongue run thoroughly over Thranduil's patiently waiting fingers, cleaning them off every last bit of you, and god, you wanted to be those fingers so damn bad at that moment.
Then he looked at you again. There was such a deep hunger in those eyes that would look beautifully between your legs, brown hair falling messily into his sight as he ate you out.
Meanwhile, Thranduil's fingers inside you moved harder and faster, curling to brush every sensitive spot of your walls, in, out, in, another curl, and then out.
You clenched your entrance in anticipation, the feeling of two of his fingers filling you this deliciously and continuously.
You were so so close, almost there–
"Shit, you're the sweetest. I think I'll eat you for breakfast tomorrow"
The abrupt halt of the cab barely registered for you; instead, it finally propelled you over the edge.
Thranduil's precise movement hit that spot inside you perfectly, crooking his fingers just right to brush against it. Combined with Bard's downright filthy promise, you nearly let out a scream as the powerful orgasm surged through you and you had to flex your muscles so you didn't continue riding his hand.
Thranduil, however, didn't stop, even though there was no way he didn't know you climaxed and he kept up the same pace, same fucking precision and pressure that your body convulsed around those long talented fingers and you couldn't even go anywhere, the seatbelt cut off your escape to the front and you were so far into the seat that wasn't an option as well, and it took a soft broken whimper, for words were long lost, for Thranduil to press a kiss to your neck before he sucked his fingers dry.
Your legs were still shaking as the elevator took you up to the penthouse at the top of the skyscraper the cab had stopped in front of.
Four mirrors gave you a splendid view of Bard's broad back as he crowded you against one of the walls, his thick fingers down your jeans again, as he mouthed hot kisses onto your neck.
"Gonna have to work you open," Bard grunted, his slippery fingers curling inside your cunt in a sinful squelch that sounded absurdly loud in the confined space of the elevator. "You're really too tight, don't wanna hurt you"
Thranduil watched the whole scene leaning at the railing, hands curled around the pole behind him as his hips twitched whenever you let out another whimper; your hands trying to get a hold on his husband's shoulders.
The ride was far too short, Bard's fingers not fast enough for you to reach another peak though the constant movement kept your head in such a nice empty mindless space that you didn't complain.
As soon as the doors opened Thranduil led the way, sauntering into the darkness illuminated by the first exploding fireworks. He pulled on the tie holding his hair up and flung it away let his hair flow down his back, ending just barely over his exquisite arse.
You didn't get to see much of the penthouse, all three of you were very eager to take this party finally somewhere comfortable and you only made out a giant white couch in front of a fireplace, an open kitchen with two glasses, one crystal with golden stains of whiskey, and the other high, the rim still dripping red wine, and a few bookshelves.
"You can get the full tour tomorrow," Bard said while you two kicked away your shoes, leaving them behind on the dark wooden parquet.
You stumbled over his left sneaker and halted in your tracks at the offer. While you had considered his promise of breakfast a spur-of-the-moment chit-chat, it now settled in your head that this wouldn't be like any one-nightstand you had in the past.
This observation only solidified as Bard caught your hand and raised it to press an open-mouthed kiss to your palm. "Do you need anything before we go into the bedroom? Any wishes or no-gos? Safeword?"
"Red," you immediately answered, and he nodded in acknowledgment, "and no, well– maybe hold me a bit afterward?" You blushed at the question though this should be the least embarrassing thing after all these two did to you in the span of a few hours. You continued to ramble, "And sometimes I cry, so.. you don't have to stop then. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed but you can continue your.. thing. Don't bother, I'll be fine on my own–"
Bard's eyebrows scrunched together the more you babbled, the look in his eyes becoming more confused until he shushed you with a quick kiss.
"Darlin', there is no need to explain what you want or don't want. If this is what you need then we won't question those demands," his eyes wandered over your face, making sure you were listening; which you were, heart pounding fast in your chest.
"And it's important you don't push yourself just because of us. It's not our intention to use you for a simple release. Thranduil and I don't take whoever is the first best, especially not to our home. We're looking for someone who suits us, with whom we feel completely comfortable and that should also be equally important to you."
You trusted them both, Bard as well as Thranduil.
The fact that Bard was asking you, nevertheless listening and responding to you was feeding something very primal.
They had done this before, unlike you. They had experience in this, but you were willing to learn, to submit yourself to these imposing men who surely would change something inside you forever.
The pride you felt at his admission of choosing you specifically mingled with the need to get this perfect man inside you quickly, especially now that he said such meaningful and reassuring words.
You nodded and croaked out a soft: "Alright, then please hold me after we're done" which he rewarded with another soft yet sensual kiss.
"Good girl"
Then his hands traveled south and slapped your ass so that your hips flew towards him.
"Now, let's not keep Thran waiting any longer. He tends to get a bit… impatient if left on his own for too long, as you've probably noticed."
Bratty.
You were so on the money earlier.
With that as well as the guess that the blonde was more kinky than the vanilla of his perfume.
At that moment the deep voice of his called out from down the hall.
"I swear, if you two started without me, I will fuck you until neither of you can walk for a week!"
Bard chuckled, then caught your widened eyes.
"He's joking," he said and you let out a relieved breath.
Bard pulled you along, a wink thrown over his shoulder.
"Mhm, partly; he won't fuck me tonight."
You needed a deep breather to ready yourself for what was about to happen, then you nearly tripped over your own feet as you raced after him through the dark hallway and to the only opened door.
You crashed fully into Bard, who for whatever reason, stood right in the doorframe of their bedroom.
"It seems Thranduil got tired of waiting," he chuckled and you wondered what he could mean when he turned sideways.
Your eyes instantly fell onto Thranduil, spread out on the enormous bed in the corner of the room– completely naked except for black, very tight boxers.
There was no air in your lungs, not a single breath left to take as you drank in the sight of him, fair and marble skin shining in the moonlight that fell through the big window next to the bed; the remaining glitter gave his body an unearthly glow. His hair fanned out all over the pillows, silver against grey, moving with him as he lazily lifted his head to stare at you.
There was an indescribable beauty in this man, he could lounge in the bed, his long legs opened in an invitation that you yearned to take, and his lean yet softly defined body posed as if he was waiting for someone to draw him.
"There you are," the corner of his mouth twitched into his smirk, "Strip"
His words, spoken in a gentle tone, boomed loud in your ears.
Your hands flew to your jeans in no second, though they were stopped by Bard, who covered them with his larger, rougher ones.
"No, Darlin', let me"
He stood behind you, taking over the job of undressing you. He did it much slower than you would have, not ripping everything apart in a hurry to obey the command of the blonde whose eyes were heavy on your body, taking in every bit of skin that got revealed.
Bard unbuttoned your jeans first, then his large and warm hands rubbed over your arms.
"Are you cold, sweetheart?"
You shook your head. "No, not cold. I– I feel like I'm burning up"
It was the truth, and nothing but the full, honest truth; you felt as hot as you did in the club, though the reason wasn't the hundreds of people and the alcohol but rather the sight of Thranduil, whose hands trailed over his own body and teasingly played with the waistband of his underwear.
Bard followed your fixated gaze to his coyly smiling husband.
"Should we turn down the heating? We would not want you melting away," Thranduil blinked his long lashes at you in faux-concern. He must've known the goosebumps covering your skin were his doing.
You would've rolled your eyes if you were able to look somewhere else than Thranduil. The man had to be magical, how else could you explain the spell he put you under if not for some supernatural powers?
"Stop the teasing, Thran," Bard cut in, slipping his hands under your shirt and kissing your shoulder. You melted into his touch, comforted that he took care of you like this when he continued, "This poor sweet thing hasn't even all her clothes off. It would be a shame to make her blush like this and not see it"
"Oh, and who's fault is that? Certainly not mine, I have been waiting so long I was close to wrapping things up myself"
Bard pulled your shirt over your head, covering your sight long enough for a wave of braveness to surge through you. "I sure hope you wrap it up," you said and heard both of them snicker.
"Do not worry," Thranduil began.
"There is enough protection for weeks," Bard finished and the band of your bra snapped against your skin.
Despite the warmness of the room your nipples puckered as soon as the lace fell away, growing hard under the avid eyes, cerulean and green, so different yet similar in the way both are dominated by the blackness of their pupils.
Bard's hands came up to your front and he cupped your breasts first tenderly, mapping out how perfectly they fit into his large palm, then rougher as his fingers found the hard buts of your nipples and rubbed them between them until every pinch had your legs trembling and you whimpering.
You cried out, body bucking on its own.
"Oh how nice," Thranduil's comment was full of sarcasm, followed by a click of his tongue against teeth, "Why, let me lay here and play all on your own, why not? After all, I am nothing but pure decoration"
Bard huffed a puff of hot air onto you, "Grow a pair of tits like this and maybe I will get to you first"
Thranduil's dark eyebrows raised to his hairline, passing an unspoken threat that had Bard scoff before he grabbed the waistband of your jeans. He pulled them down slowly, getting on his knees as he did and you were acutely aware of how wet your panties were when you feel his lips kiss your ass.
"This must be uncomfortable," he murmured, holding one leg to help you step out of the jeans. He kneaded your thigh, fingertips against muscles and flesh, before moving on to do the same on your other leg.
He used the moment where you lifted the second leg, to dive his hand to your cunt again, dragging his knuckles over the dark-colored patch, and he laughed as you buckled into the touch. "Oh, the fun we'll have"
Finally, undressed to your panties that cling to your crotch like a second skin, you were free to walk toward the bed. You would've lied if you said you didn't swing your hips a little bit, relishing the raspy groan this evoked from Bard.
Feeling like you should await further commands you stopped (un)patiently when your knees hit the mattress.
Thranduil's lips curved into a devilish smirk at this sign of submission.
He let his legs fall open wider, waving in an elegant gesture into the space in between. "Come here, sweetheart"
The bed was raised and you rose to your tiptoes and, making sure your eyes were trained on Thranduil, you crawled over the mattress, knees digging into the silk duvet he had promised you.
He reached out as soon as he could, one hand curving around your neck to pull and you landed directly on him, legs spread on either side of his thighs, hands somehow, despite their nervous trembling, found their place against his collarbones, standing out from his broad chest rather delicate.
Not that you hadn't suspected and expected him to be big, but, fuck, he was long and hard, a pulsing pressure against your stomach.
"Be a good girl and remove this unnecessary fabric, will you?" Thranduil whispered and you scrambled to lose your panties, throwing them off into the distance only to turn again and find him smirking. "I meant my boxers, but it fills me with joy seeing you this eager"
Lowering your head to hide your laughter, you grabbed his boxers. He lifted his hips just barely for you to pull on the black boxers, rolling them over his tight ass, and after giving you a loving pat on the head, he crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing into the pillows.
His cock sprung free from the containment of the tight boxers, twitching as it hit his abdomen and you felt your throat dry out.
Of course, he was smooth everywhere; not one bit of hair covering the flushed beauty of him.
You sat up, hands pushed into his flexing thighs, to take him all in. No one should look this perfect, this utterly ridiculously beautiful, right? There should be something on him, a scar, a mole, anything to prove he wasn't straight-up carved out of marble, but you found nothing.
You glared at him as you sat down a bit lower, ass in the air, and spit into your hand before you wrapped it around his cock. The sight of his size had your mouth water, and seeing how your fingers couldn't meet had your cunt clench around nothing.
No way any of their preparation had been enough for this intimidating masterpiece of Mother Nature's creation.
"Tell me, how is it fair that you are rich and have a dick like that?" you asked and just as Thranduil opened his pretty lips for probably another witty answer, you interrupted him by letting his cock slide over your tongue deep into your throat until you gagged around him.
Whatever he wanted to say was forgotten.
Instead, Thranduil groaned a low: "Fuck" and threw his head back.
You wanted to see him come undone, to unravel him until he lost this bratty attitude and reduce him to that wild behavior he had shown in the club.
You had the feeling that that's only possible if he thought he had the upper hand.
You bobbed your head, taking him a bit past what you could manage without gagging before lifting your head again.
"Use me," you said and his eyes flew open.
"What?"
Cocking your head, you shot him a confused look, while spreading his precum over the head of his cock with your thumb. "I said," – you spit again, mixing it and coating his dick further – "Fuck - my - mouth"
Every word was punctuated with a kiss to his slit, and you swore you could see his eyes darken further; black taking over blue – desire fought whatever held him back to fucking give into whatever you offered.
Behind you, Bard swore nearly breathlessly: "Fuck me" though you stayed focused on Thranduil.
"Are you sure?" his voice was raw, his facade of composure cracking ever so slightly.
"Wouldn't ask if I wasn't"
His hand was behind your head in seconds, drawing you down his cock again and you opened your mouth wide to not hurt him. He pushed you down until you choked on him and although your eyes watered, you couldn't take them away from the sight of his mouth and the low throaty groans that passed the opened lips.
The lack of air cut off your moan, the tip of his cock bullying the back of your throat just barely short of painful. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nose, you inhaled deeply.
"Good girl," Thranduil's hips bucked, pulling back until he was only half-lodged in your throat, "Just like that, fuck"
He gave an experimental thrust, keeping his sharp eyes on you, his hand in your neck, ready to stop if he saw any discomfort, but all you showed him was how you choked on spit and salty precum.
"Oh, you sweet girl. Behaving so well," his voice was ruined, and he thrusted again, punching away the little breath left in the tiniest space that wasn't occupied by his thick cock.
This was by far the first time you have ever given a blowjob, but it was a first to let someone use you like this. Controlling when you could suck or when you just had to take what he gave you.
And oh– how much you loved it.
So much that you wanted to rub your thighs together only to be stopped by rough hands grabbing them.
A confused sound left you, no more than a choked "Huh?" vibrating around Thranduils cock continuing to fuck into you, just like you had asked him, hindering you from turning to see what Bard was up to.
He didn't leave you wondering for long, just as Thranduil's thrusts took on a sharper edge, hitting the back of your throat every time, filling your mouth like no man ever had, Bard's flattened tongue licked through your exposed cunt and the moan you let out sounded so pornographic you surprised yourself.
"Do it again," Thranduil took in the sight of your wet lips, the drool dripping out of the corners of your mouth, his cock disappearing so deep inside you that felt him in your lungs, "Fuck, Bard, do that again now!–"
He talked for you, praising Bard as he licked your pussy again, this time using his fingers to pry you open further and there was the delicious scratch of his beard stubbles, burning on your skin.
You cried out, tried to do, stopped by Thranduils cock stuffing your mouth again and again, his hands curled around your neck as if he wanted to feel the imprint of himself pushing through.
"Prettiest woman out there," Thranduil groaned. His thump reached over to stuff some of the spit back into your mouth, opening your jaw up impossibly wide.
Bard's tongue was as precise as their fingers have been, covering your folds, fucking into your hole and sucking on your clit with expertise that no man should be allowed to have. Two of his wet fingers slid into you while his tongue mercilessly attacked your clit, the other hand buried itself in the soft flesh of your ass, kneading and pulling, opening you up further for his face.
"C'mon," his voice was muffled by your thighs, drowning you in his accent while he drowned his tongue inside your opening, circling the rim in maddening figures, "Give me one more, gorgeous."
Electricity flowed through your body, hot tingles of nothing but fire spreading into your fingertips wrapped around the inches of Thranduil's cock that didn't fit into your mouth, to your nipples that brushed against his muscular thighs.
"Fuck Bard, please–"
Not sure what you were begging for, for his tongue to stop the attack on your clit, for his fingers constantly finding that spot inside your spongy walls that had you wailing and rolling your hips into his face, or for him to get on with it and get you over that build-up.
Bard kept going, somehow finding a rhythm that matched the one his husband hammered down your throat and you were helplessly stuck trying to hold on.
Until you lost the fight to keep yourself upright. Your hands slipped on Thranduil's thighs, your body crashed down and if it wouldn't have been for his quick reaction of pulling himself out of you, you would for sure have impaled your head on his still hard and throbbing cock.
Instead, it just wetly slapped your face as you collapsed into his lap.
Bard's rough hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he maneuvered your legs around to give his head more space.
The other pair of hands, soft, delicate, Thranduil's, cupped your face, lifting it gently yet demanding, giving him the perfect view of your cute face, all scrunched up as you gasped and mewled, and your backside, ass arched into the air under Bard's commanding hands.
"Such a beautiful thing," Thranduil mused.
His fingers danced over your cheeks until he used another whine, another desperate moan when Bard alternated between open-mouthed, sloppy kisses and using the point of his tongue, to slip his thumb into your mouth.
As soon as he did, you closed your lips around him. Staring up at him, begging him silently for a release only Bard could give you, you started sucking on his finger as you would have done on his cock if not for the stars dancing in your field of vision.
Thranduil tutted, "So needy as well. Bard, if you were so kind as to stop, I can not stand seeing her this distraught. I think you are working her up far too much"
"Nooo! Please, please, I'm alright, I'm– please, so close," The desperate scream that came out of your mouth at his words was probably loud enough to alert the neighbors, followed by a cry and sob as Bard kissed your clit one last time.
"Of course, babe" The words were muffled, spoken directly into your dripping cunt.
Which he then shuffled away from, beard stubble scratching you, his fingers letting loose on your thighs.
"No, no please, please," you were already babbling, reaching behind you in a sad effort to force him back between your legs, "Please, I'll be good, please!"
"You sweet thing," Thranduils arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you up into a kiss, "I think–" his voice dropped deeper and you heard the rustle of plastic, felt Bard's hand rolling the condom over Thranduil's cock pressing into your stomach, "–you have behaved so well, you deserve a reward"
You nodded fast, legs spread wide apart sitting on his thighs and your cunt stretched open.
Staring into his eyes, you saw how much his pupils were dilated, how he only watched you, only saw you.
You could see and feel his chest lift as his cock slid through your folds, finding you drenched from all their playing around.
"Eyes stay on me"
Your pussy was wet enough for the tip of his cock to slip right into you and right away you wanted to shut your eyes at the sensation of him spearing you open.
"Please–," you gasped, and tried to move your hips to get more of him into you than just those few inches, but he didn't budge, didn't loosen his grip on your waist, "Please, Thranduil. Green, my color is green, fuck me, I can take it!"
"Yes, and if not," his voice was back to the self-controlled powerful tone, "I'll make you take it, sweetheart."
Thranduil let go of you the second he snapped his hips upwards and suddenly, you were split open.
You keened as his cock sunk into you in one fast, swift, hard movement. There was a burn, in your thighs as you flexed them, in your throat as you cried out, in your pussy at the intrusion of his long cock.
When Thranduil bottomed out, his head shoved against your cervix, the whole length forcing you to stretch, to make room, and fuck you wanted your pussy to be carved into the shape of that perfect cock.
It should've been uncomfortable, but you only groaned as you appreciated the second he gave you to relax while making room where they shouldn't be some.
"Fuck–" he moaned, "you are tight, so fucking tight"
Bard moved next to you, and you could only get one short look at his naked body, the brown hair coating his muscular chest, the happy trail leading down to his thick cock, before Thranduil began to fuck you.
His strokes were fast, hips snapping into you and nearly throwing you off his lap at the speed and brute force and you fell into his chest, clinging to his arms.
This, him rutting into you like your pussy could quench a year-long thirst at a punishing pace, this was surely the epitome of getting fucked. How he knew how to fuck you just right, hitting your g-spot with every single thrust was a riddle you couldn't and wouldn't want to solve; not with his cock penetrating you hard enough you swore you felt him in your throat as you called for him through moans.
You had no chance of even trying to meet his thrusts, not while he pounded into you like a madman.
"F-Fuck, good fucking girl– so tight," Thranduil groaned out his gritted teeth, his face turning a beautiful shade of rosé, "Even tighter than you, Bard–"
Bard, you totally forgot he was even there, laughed and moved on the bed again, slipping back behind you, "Yeah? Tell me more"
And you wanted to scream, to yell at them to stop talking in words that only added to the overstimulation, that spun around your head without meaning because how could anything have ever any meaning more important that Thranduil's cock fucking you a little further, a little deeper.
"So tight, s-so hot, clamping down on me like this sweet, fuck, pussy doesn't want me to leave"
"Mhm, I can see that," Bard hummed and his hands caressed your shaking thighs, before leaving his mark on your ass with a soft slap that had you wailing into Thranduil's shoulder.
It was too much and not enough at the same time.
You were going to lose your mind like this, fucked to near-unconsciousness.
"More, I–" your speech was slurred, brain scrambled into loose words hanging onto thin threads.
You tried to hold on to Thranduil but it was impossible with your sweat and the glitter covering him.
Luckily for you, Bard found the time to stop ever kindly toying with the pearl of your clit to lean forward.
"Put them inside his hair, Darlin'. He doesn't mind" There was a lopsided smirk on his face that you could barely see out of the corners of your eyes.
You still hadn't stopped looking at Thranduil.
The attempt to tentatively guide your hands to his head was prevailed by another particular hard thrust, and your fingers slid through blonde locks, grabbing onto them as you fell back down on Thranduil's cock.
You tugged on them much harsher than intended.
Thranduil's eyes blew wide.
You wanted to apologize when his lips quivered and his hips snapped into yours even faster.
Quickly you reached for him again, nails scraping his scalp as you readjusted, gripping more, much tighter.
"That's it, Darlin'.. that's my girl," Bard leaned back, and not shortly after his fingers were back on your clit, tapping intact of Thranduil's thrusts.
It was only a matter of seconds until the pleasure became too much.
Thranduil's hips fell into a stutter as your walls clenched around him; even for someone with his stamina the heat of you surrounding him, and your sweet moans drove him into a raging need to imprint the shape of his cock inside you.
"F-fuck.. Thran–" you whimpered, hands fisting his hair, trying to get a literal grip as reality started to shift around you.
Outside, close to the windows, there was a whistle as the first of many fireworks greet the New Year and just as Thranduil pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking and tensing up as you screamed his name, the darkness of the sky exploded into an arrangement of thousands of colors.
The white fuzziness that enveloped your vision transformed into creeping darkness at the edges.
Your eyelids closed shut as you descended into blissful oblivion.
When you came back to yourself, it was to the murmur of deep voices mixed into the loud bangs of fireworks.
For a moment you had no idea where you were, enveloped in a haziness inside your mind, but the gentle nudge of something against your lips forced you to open your eyes.
There were two faces very close to yours, was the first realization.
Then, following up, you let out a giggle.
"Don't look so concerned, I'm fine," you greedily took a sip from the water bottle that the very flushed blonde held in his hands.
"You said it was possible you would cry, not bloody pass out on Thran's dick!" Bard wiped the drops you couldn't swallow away from the corner of your mouth with one hand and continued to rub your thighs with his others.
You hadn't noticed they were still shaking.
"Yeah, that never happened before," you shot a smirk up to Thranduil, "Never had a guy fuck me like this as well"
He snorted into the bottle of water, "Believe me, I never had someone lose their consciousness on me before as well. I came shortly after you and when I opened my eyes to find you completely out of it I nearly passed out on the spot as well"
"Would have been quite a shock for you," you said and let your head fall to the side to look at Bard, "both of us orgasm into fainting"
"Not funny, Darlin'," Bard warned, though he laughed as you stuck his tongue out at him.
Stretching your hands over your head and raking them into the air until your bones cracked, you sighed happily. Blissfulness was all you felt after cumming harder than you ever had.
For the first time, you could really enjoy the sight of both men in the nude, you hadn't had the chance to appreciate how fit Bard was while Thranduil had fucked you and you reached out to run your hands over his chest. Twirling some of the hair on there, traveling lower to scratch nails down his happy trail like a route description straight to his still-hard cock.
Stopping shortly before his pubic hair, you glanced up at him, a coy smile playing your lips. "You haven't cum yet." It was much a purr as it was an invitation, your legs falling open right when Bard's hand came to a still on your thighs.
He shook his head, chestnut hair swaying with the movement. "No, Darlin', no! You just passed out. I won't force myself on you. Thran can suck me off or I'll take care of it myself if you want to rest"
Your heart contracted in adoration for this man, and an embarrassing amount of slick gushed out of you.
"Bard," you said, voice wavering as you suppressed a whimper. Somehow this turned you on even more, "Bard, there is enough time to be this caring later but please–" Once again you were begging, and the man wasn't even inside of you yet, "please fuck me"
On the other side of you, Thranduil chuckled, "Insatiable, I knew it. Bard is right though, if you are not well, then he can fuck me"
Slowly but surely you were losing your patience.
As sweet as their concern was, the fact that these two gods were both sitting naked in front of you, one sweaty because he just knocked you out, and the other hard as steel and flushed, only aroused that much more.
Without saying anything else, you maneuvered yourself in the bed until you could rest your head on Thranduil's stretched legs and angled your legs in an invitation.
"Come on you stud. It's the new year after all"
The brunette scanned you with a piercing gaze, you could see him struggling with himself, but the twitch of his cock told you what he'd decided before he nodded.
"Thran, condom please"
You giggled again, excitement and the need to be catapulted to new heights spreading warmly in your stomach.
As Bard put the condom on, you wiggled around, your hand on the move to beat time, but Thranduil reached over you.
He caught your wrist before you reached your center, grasping it with his much larger hand and pulling your arm back with him enough that it forced your shoulders up, a "Tze, tze, tze" admonishing the behavior.
"Impatient brat, make up your mind!" he hissed and tugged some more until you whined, "Feel free to use those pathetic little fingers, knowing they will never fill you the way Bard could" Now that Thranduil knew you were on the same page, his voice dropped into that rebuking tone that left you whining and pouting.
He was so good, so fucking mean in the right amount you never knew you needed a man to act in bed.
"I just wanted–"
"I know baby," he cooed, and patted your cheek, "you just need your cunt to be filled, right? Just need to be stuffed full. Bard will do that for you, no need to worry your pretty head about it"
"That's right, Darlin'," Bard shuffled in between your legs, hooking them both over his thighs as he leaned over you. His cock landed on your abdomen, pressing against your pulsating clit, "Tell me what you want," he grabed himself, guiding it slowly toward where you leaked for him, completely drenched from the orgasms they had already given to you.
"I can go slow, or I can go fast"
You contemplated for a moment and lift the free hand to stroke over his handsome face. His beard tickled the inside of your palm, the chestnut waves silky as the sheets.
"Slow," you whispered, "I want you slow first"
"Alright," he gently nudged his nose against yours before capturing your lips in a kiss.
Although you were still sensitive, still pulsing and throbbing due to Thranduil (who caressed your face and your neck, having let to of your hand to arrange the pillows in his back for more comfort), you relished the stretch and sting of Bard as he guided his cock into you.
He was thicker than Thranduil, not by much but that inch made itself known, splitting you open heavenly so. You gasped into the kiss, giving up the fight of tongues to swallow back the drool that collected the further Bard pushed inside you.
It's just a little bit, one inch at a time, but you cried out all the same.
The thrum of excitement pulses, leaves you trembling and begging in incoherent moans and whimpers.
You could feel him throbbing inside you.
"Good girl," Thranduil's praise washed over you, chilled fingers tweaking one of your nipples as a reward for the exhausted smile you gifted him at that, "Has anyone ever told you that you make just the sweetest sounds? Give me one more?"
He twisted your other nipple; you moaned again.
"Fuck, Thran, you were so right," Bard grunted, his fingernails digging into where he held you by the waist, leaving crescent moon-shaped imprints that you hoped wouldn't fade for a while, "She's fuckin' tight; how are you still this tight?"
"For you," you fisted your hands into his hair again, hoping he enjoyed it just as much as his husband, "J-just for you, everything, ngh– for you"
With one last push, he sheated himself in you completely, filling you up just like Thranduil told you he would, stretching your walls thin.
You felt him everywhere, in every part of your body.
Every nerve, every tendon, every cell burns and was lit aflame, sizzling hot fire licking your skin and bursting when he dragged himself out, leaving barely the tip and pushed back in.
His cock nestled deep inside you, Bard stilled.
There was a silent vigilance in his mesmerizing green eyes. "Talk to me beautiful, is this alright?"
You nodded and pulled him down on his hair into another kiss. "Yes, god, yes"
That's all he needed to hear and while licking over your lips, entangling your tongue with his playfully, he set a slow rhythm. Nevertheless the tempo, he brushed that spot inside you with every stroke.
Pins and needles all over your skin, goosebumps wherever Thranduil's fingers wandered.
There were more fireworks, lightening up the bedroom filled with gasps and grunts, whispers of encouragement and begging. The sound of Bard's hips snapping into yours, the wet squelch of his cock driving itself inside of your pussy again and again.
"There we go," he murmured and positioned his arms on either side of you, using the balance it gives him to roll his hips instead of just thrusting. Mumbling between kisses, he talked against your lips: "Aren't you just the sweetest? Darlin', I couln' believe my eyes when I saw you in that club, shining far brighter than anyone else"
He swallowed your gasps with kisses, nipping at your lip then moved to your earlobe, "You are so perfect, letting us fuck you like this"
In one swift movement, he dragged Thranduil towards him, long blonde hair curling at the edges hanging into your vision in a starlight waterfall. Their kiss left you breathless and you would have felt left out if Thranduil didn't lean down further to you, kissing your lips upside down.
This time it was his fingers that found your slick, poor and abused clit. A couple of firm circles had your hips bucking up to meet Thranduil's fingers, crying out for both men in a mix of their names.
You whimpered as the next orgasm build up fucking fast, your breath catching in your throat.
"Bard," your hips moved on their own, trying to get him to fuck you faster, "Please– more, I need m-more,"
"Darlin'," Bards forehead pressed against yours, his grunts strained as if he was holding back himself but kept the same and steady pace you asked him for, "You sure?"
Grabbing his hair again, you weaved your fingers through it, tousling it haphazardly, achieving nothing but adding to its wild appearance.
When you met his gaze again, his eyes were fixed on you, it felt electric and charged, akin to lightning, causing you to momentarily forget to breathe.
"Yes"
He obeyed instantly, with the next thrust you screamed at the pure force of it. Bard wa spiraling the same way you were, becoming erratic as his teeth grazed over your collarbone, biting every mark they have left on you.
Raising your legs to keep him close, your ankles locked behind his back, heels digging into the tight muscles of his ass. The new angle allowed him to drive impossibly deep, reaching pleasure points inside you you didn't knew existed before him.
The pleasure was blinding, high electricity running through your veins and into every part of your body and soul. This was nothing you have ever experienced before, not with anyone and they made sure it would never feel like this with anyone ever.
Bard, feeling how your walls clenched around him, fluttering and pulsating, begging him to stay inside, sucked on your nipple, hard.
"I need you to come, fuck. Let me feel this pussy come, I'm right there with you," he rasped, voice like gravel, leaving you to scream for him, head knocking into Thranduil's legs, who dared to add to the crescendo of your pleasure and pressed down on your clit.
You found yourself gripping the bed covers, fingers twisting, in an attempt to anchor yourself, sobbing and shaking.
Instead, the coil inside you snapped.
Soaking Bard's cock choking and sobbing, tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes as every limp of you tensed up, he pushed you over the edge, his moans in your ear the most erotic thing.
You felt Bard following you, felt him spilling inside the condom, his cock twitching inside of you as he reached his peak moaning and burying himself to the deepest point, hips flushed close against yours, still rolling and shoving into you.
Moments of silence and heavy breathing followed. Of broken sobs, hushed murmurs of praise, even more affirmations.
Thranduil scootched closer to you, laying down next to you while Bard's weight on top of you was just what you needed. The heaviness of his much larger frame and Thranduil's long arms wrapped around you held back the cold that threatened to take a hold of you as the shivers of pleasure subsided.
"Gods," Bard exhaled, chest moving, pressing more into you. "That was something"
"Happy New Year" Thranduil rumbled.
Minutes passed, more fireworks exploded, celebrations of the New Year while you weren't even sure you even knew what time was anymore.
Bard tried to move, though your legs must have cramped for they felt disconnected to your body.
"Darlin'," he dropped another kiss to your neck, laughing low as your head lolled to the side.
"Mhm-mhm," you groaned, eyes still shut close, "Stay"
His lips moved to your ear, continuing to bathe you in soft kisses that leave you floating in that blissful headspace. "I know, I know–"
Thranduil's hands cupped your face, caressing your glowing cheeks and wiped away the loose tears that rolled over them. "Aftercare first, then cuddling," he whispered and cradled your head, massaging the spot in your neck that started to ache after Bard had folded you in half.
Despite knowing he was right, that you needed to use the bathroom, the warmth their bodies provided held you back.
You whined, arching your back into Bard's chest as he pried your legs away and slowly pulled himself out of you, stopping when your hips twitched at the overstimulation and only continued after a soothing kiss.
As soon as he left to stand up, tying up the used condom and going into the ensuite bathroom, Thranduil's steady hands on your back helped you sit up on the edge of the bed, where he wrapped the covers around your shoulders and gently tapped your nose, before scratching his nails over your head.
"You did very well, sweetheart," One finger tipped your chin up. "Thank you, you are a wonderful partner."
Thranduil, crouched to your level in front of you, still naked as the day he was born, simply picked you up. Legs folded over one arm, your head fell against his glittery chest that was covered in red streaks of where your nails had scratched him.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up"
The afterglow of the very much fantastic sex lulled all three of you in a comfort that blurred the barriers of you being a stranger in their home, laughter and giggles as the shower washed away sweat and glitter.
While there was a liveness to massaging soap into hair, hands rubbing away soreness and splashing water around until the mirror was all but fogged up and steam filled the entire bathroom, the exhaustion of the night caught up close after Thranduil dressed you in one of Bard's large sweaters.
Smelling like wood shavings, pine and toothpaste, hair still damp and eyes dropping close even though you tried to stay awake, Thranduil carried you to the bed.
The sheets were changed, encasing you in laundry detergent and brushing against your naked legs as you let yourself be placed on the pillows.
Outside, the world still celebrated and you did as well, in your own way.
There was a shuffle, a murmur of voices, then the bed dipped on either side as Bard climbed to your right side and Thranduil to your left, leaving not much room between all of you, legs entangling with each other, more giggling until everyone lied down comfortably.
Face tugged under Bard's chin, one arm of his reaching over your head so that Thranduil could nestle his face into it and the blonde wrapped around your back, you were surrounded by something you couldn't put into words.
"Maybe– maybe you can stay for breakfast and lunch," Bard's low words were murmured with a deep sigh, his other hand sliding down under his sweater, resting just below where your heart sung contenly.
"And dinner," Thranduil added and you heard him kiss Bard's hand.
"No talky-talky," you snuggled your face deeper into Bard, nose bumping into his neck, "But I would like that, very much"
Just as you fell asleep, held tightly by them both, you could hear them exchange quiet I love you's and you smiled, feeling their love seep deep into your bones.
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