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monsterfuckerconfessions · 6 months

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You are the young, newly-widowed spouse of the foolish and disliked noble who started this devastating war at the border; when a mix of common folk and soldiers drag you from your bed you are already resigned to whatever fate they have chosen for you. You are dragged out in your sheer silk nightwear and forced to your knees in the mud of the main road. Glancing up you see the figures opposite, the enemy, the great hulking orcs your husband angered. Above you, you hear frantic talking - frantic, useless. None of you speak their tongue.

Finally, in desperation, you crawl forward and bow your head, pulling your hair aside to bare your neck. Surely that cannot be misunderstood. You are willing to give your life for peace. The townspeople are hardly going to let you live either way.

(You are the chieftain of an orc clan reluctantly drawn into this skirmish as a matter of honour, and when the humans drag out a small, helpless one of their own and offer it you hesitate. It is dressed in silk and wears jewels at its neck and throat, which means it is important. As grotesque as the practice is to you, your sense of pride, you know they often exchange hostages between themselves. You glance at your second, who visibly rolls her eyes but nods. Any excuse to go home.)

The orcs do not kill you there and then, but take you; you cannot tell yet if that is a mercy or a misfortune. You are bound at the wrists and ankles and flung over an orc soldier's shoulder like a sack of grain, and passed between many of them during the journey. In their own language they joke and laugh as they pass you over, sometimes pinching at the bare skin of your thigh where your clothes have hitched up.

At their camp you are deposited in the tent of the chieftain. You have heard rumours of what they do with captives, and between being ravaged until broken or eaten alive you do not know what to hope for. You merely lie there, limp and trembling slightly, until you hear the sound of someone entering. The hulking orc chieftain looks at you, tusked face unreadable, then drags you upright by a fistful of your hair to briefly press a flask to your lips. When you have gulped nearly all the water he drops you, grunts and leaves. He does not return to the tent the entire night. You know this, because the low buzzing terror in the back of your mind doesn't let you sleep.

(You hardly know what to do with the little thing. Your comrades say it is easy to carry but odd, it is full grown by the look of it but doesn't struggle at all or even try to bargain in its babbling little language. Maybe it is unwell. You order it placed in your tent and give it water yourself, but it shows no more signs of life, dull-eyed and staring at nothing. You decide to let it sleep and go back outside to drink until you pass out under the stars and the warm summer skies.)

On the second night you are taken to a river before camp, and following the example of those around you, you wash yourself; as you return to the riverbank you find your clothes gone. The orcs watch you, even the smallest of them half-again your size. You swallow your fear and walk naked back to the chieftain's tent. Once there you lower yourself to your hands and knees on the bedroll, bare skin still damp from the water. You cannot stop him from taking you, but perhaps it will hurt less or be over faster if you comply.

The orcs chieftain makes a brief, almost hissing sound at the sight of you, but does not leave this time. Their hand brushes across your back and you can feel their claws retracting. They touch and inspect you like a prize hound and you keep your eyes to the ground, tears of shame welling up. Then he presses two large, blunt fingers inside you, and you brace yourself. He fingerfucks you lazily for a minute or so before suddenly growling something you don't understand and turning you on your back, so you scramble to reposition yourself and hold your legs wide. He cradles your face in both his hands as he slowly sinks his swollen cock into you, larger than you think you could ever take and stretching you painfully yet unable to look away from his face. Your husband used to force you to look at him like this only when he wanted to watch you cry, so you brace yourself for the firm hold to turn into hard slaps that leave your ears ringing.

(The little thing washes with the others and you are approaching the tent with an armful of fabric in what you hope is close to their size when you are hit with the unexpected sight of them uncovered in your tent, positioned as any orc begging to be bred would be. You have to smother a gasp and restrain yourself; it has been too long, and little thing's fragile shape and delicate features are somehow all the more appealing for their strangeness. But you were raised well, taught that all parties must agree before partners bed each other; you don't know their tongue to ask them. You seek permission from their body language instead, first touching their back, the curve of their ass and leg, then with tentative fingers in their soft tight little hole. They do not flinch or try to flee, and they wetten for your fingers. Surely you can continue? Forgetting yourself you ask out loud.)

You wait to be hit. It doesn't happen. You wait to used rough and hurt inside; it doesn't happen either.

The looming figure of the great orc warrior above you moves with an almost incongruous care, pressing into you slowly and then simply resting there until your body becomes accustomed enough to his huge cock that he can start to move without tearing you. It's almost as if his gaze on your face is tracking the small hitched breaths or softening of your expression to know when he can begin to carefully thrust. Yet that makes no sense to you. Men have never used you so gentle, why would a savage orc do so?

He is big enough it does hurt some little but that sensation is soon overwhelmed by another, unfamiliar and disorienting; a low heat building your abdomen, a curl of pleasure that makes you whimper. Another growl comes in response, so you try to quieten, but his expression - it is so hard to read, so different, but he does not look angry.

(You are confused and troubled, but the tight heat of the little thing is so perfect around your cock. They are acting like a new prospective mate, taking your body like a mate would, but when you watch their face to try and find the answers you'd normally seek out loud there is something missing. You fuck them very gently, as such delicate pretty things should be treated, and forget yourself enough to apologise out loud when they whimper. You promise them in words they don't know that you want to make them feel good, you will stop if they struggle even once, that they are safe with you.)

The orc chief finishes with a single deep thrust and you can feel your abdomen swell with how filled you are, a little of their cum already beginning to leak down your thighs. He pulls away and you instinctively curl in on yourself, protective - the sound he makes in response is urgent but more distressed than angry. He paws at you to uncurl, look at him again; as you tilt your face up and force your body to relax he huffs and lowers his great head between your legs. Before you can even process it his rough tongue is on you, and you can feel the smooth dangerous weight of his tusks against your inner thighs. The rush of banked pleasure is equally unexpected, as he coaxes a climax from you that leaves you shaking. Afterward you are gathered up like a doll in his arms, and for the first time in three days actually believe you may be safe. Very, very, tentatively, you reach for his face and pause halfway in question.

(The little thing flinches only afterwards, but it does flinch and you immediately fight back a rush of guilt and worry. Rank be damned, the clan will not stand for taking any person unwilling, even a human one. You try to comfort them with small touches, check their face for signs of what's wrong. They are unreadable. You check between their legs and can tell they did not quite find pleasure yet, so quickly duck your head to correct it. Perhaps that is what was wrong, because when their body responds they do not flinch away from being held close. They even reach for your face, and after you nod encouragingly they trace their tiny fingers over the ridges of your skin and kiss nervously at the smooth curve of your tusk. You thrill, but say nothing; maybe they have no idea what an intimate gesture that is. You just happily nestle close.)

You were the young, newly-widowed spouse of the foolish and disliked noble who started this devastating war at the border; now, it seems, you are claimed by the warrior chief who bested him and the bedmate of a mighty orc who is gentler with you than said husband ever was and - slightly endearingly - buries his face in the crook of your neck with a low rumbling sound not unlike a purr when sleepy and post-coital.

#monsterfucker confessions

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meanbossart · 15 days

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What kind of things does DU Drow like to do? I wanted to draw him doing something, but all that comes to mind is fighting, drinking, and having sex :0

THINGS THE DROW ENJOYS DOING*:

*besides drinking, fighting and fucking

-Hunting and prepping game (crossbow and traps are his favorite methods) -Meeting weird people. If you have entertaining banter he's likely to humor you - he's what I would call a "quiet extrovert" and especially "gets along" with Duergar, dwarfs, and half-orc. -Many things that relate to animals. Caring for them, petting them, talking to them (without magic), admiring them from afar, etc. Big cat and horse guy. -Committing petty theft with Astarion (He distracts, Astarion steals all the fun jewelry.) -EATING. He can sometimes go a long time without a proper meal so he absolutely hogs out whenever he can. -Disrespecting religious rites and gods. -Making fun of drow (the race) -Stealing a glance down the low-cut blouse of a well-endowed woman. -(Privately) being spoiled and fussed over. He's a big fan of whenever Astarion scrubs him down in a bath, or when either him or Shadowheart play with his hair and give him any form of care and attention. -Showing off. He loves getting the chance to exhibit his skills or how great his body looks LOL.

Hopefully this helps!

#ask

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residentinsomniacartist · 3 months

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wait wait wait guys have you ever thought about how the Mighty Nein are everything they shouldn’t be upon first glance

no no guys guys listen to me they’re all the antithesis of what they’re meant to be and that’s why they’re such amazing and heartfelt characters

like, Caleb is a wizard who’s afraid of his own fire magic. his own power causes him to falter in battle. his strongest spells are his most dangerous to himself. wizards are supposed to be prideful of their magic, but Caleb’s is the reason he hates himself

Beau is a monk who never wanted to be. her job is one that people normally associate with being calm and collected and Beau was a wild rebellious kid who got dragged into this line of work against her will. she never wanted to be this!! but now she is and she’s gotta deal with it!!

Fjord is a warlock who never wanted power from his pact, which is why you’d think a warlock would make their pact at all. but no. Fjord made his pact because he wanted to live, not because he wanted power. he was a scared orphan who hated his tusks, not a buff, muscled, angry half-orc like people assumed

Nott is NOT, that’s the whole crux of her narrative! she wasn’t pretty, like a halfling girl was supposed to be. she wasn’t a goblin, she was just transformed into one. and not only that, but despite being a three-foot-tall alcoholic kleptomaniac, she’s the mom of the group!

Jester is a Cleric whose god isn’t actually a god and who would much rather bash bad guys over the head with her lollipop than have to stop and heal her friends!! she’s a bubbly, optimistic ray-of-sunshine, but you know when she says she’s gonna change the world with friendship she means it as a threat

Mollymauk is an amnesiac, but he doesn’t want to remember who he was. if you ask him, that wasn’t him! he might be a flirtatious hedonistic carnie, but he’s also single-mindedly devoted to making the world a better and more loved place than it was when he found it. he’s a liar, but he means well. he’s an arrogant fool, yes, but he’s right! he did it! he left it better!

Caduceus seems like he’d be creepy and grim from growing up in a graveyard, but he’s actually the most chill out of the entire Nein by far. he’s calm, he’s sweet, and he’s comforting, more than anything else. you’d think he’d be amazed by seeing the outside world for the first time, but he spends the whole time knowing that one day he’ll return home, that he wasn’t supposed to be the one to leave

Yasha is a barbarian with skeletal wings and a dramatic, monochromatic look, but she’s a complete sweetheart. she’s Molly’s best friend, she was a carnival bouncer, she’s a lesbian disaster who collects pressed flowers in a book out of love for the wife she lost. those black wings were actually hiding soft white feathers

Essek was born straight into the den of politics, he was a spymaster, he literally started a war for his own gain, and yet. he’s sounds irredeemable on paper, but. he’s not!! sure, the Nein kind of have to drag his alignment kicking and screaming into neutral, but they manage it. Essek learns and grows and he overcomes his nature. he becomes good, against all odds

guys guys guys don’t you see it!! look at them!!they’re such compelling characters!! they’re everything they’re not supposed to be!! dude y’all how didn’t I realize this earlier!! they subvert their narratives in the most interesting ways ever and I justhshsbhshshsjnsmshsnhsfn!!

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apuckishwit · 1 year

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Making Room

Steve never gets into DnD.

Not even after Eddie convinces him to join a one-shot over one Christmas when the kids are all back from college and jobs and far-flung adventures. He's not a jerk about it or anything. He sits and makes a character with his boyfriend and he does his best with the role-playing and he only asks Dustin for help with the dice seven or eight times (and everyone had promised to give him an even dozen before they gave him shit about it, so it was fine). It's fine. He's not mad that he spent the time doing it with Eddie and the kids (some of them taller than him now, in spitting distance of college degrees and first apartments and jobs and spouses and lives, but they'll always be kids to him).

But afterwards he kisses Eddie and says it really and truly isn't for him, sorry babe.

And that's okay.

When he and Robin are scavenging through yet another thrift store for furniture and dishes and lamps for the apartment she and Nancy are getting in Indianapolis (he's so sad that her room in the little house he shares with Eddie is going back to being a guest room, but he's so damn happy that she and Nance have stopped dancing around each other...and they're only moving about half an hour away, he'll still see her all the time), and he spots an impractically long desk/table, onviously custom-built, with an absurd number of drawers and compartments built into it, he buys it immediately. He wrestles it into Eddie's van that they borrowed for the day, and smiles apologetically when Robin has to hold like three boxes on her lap. He gets it into their dining room while Eddie's at work, graciously gifting their own table to Robin and Nancy, and it's worth all the hassle (and the fact that one end of the table pokes about a foot into the living room space) when Eddie comes home to something big enough for even his most complicated campaign maps and with plenty of storage for all his dice and miniatures and source books.

And sturdy enough for Eddie's most...enthusiastic...thanks, they find out that night.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But every time Hellfire (whatever incarnation of Hellfire it is, be it the Hawkins crew or some of the guys from the little record shop Eddie works at in town, or some combination) meets up for a game, they get used to Eddie yelling, "Stevie! Evens or odds?" everytime a situation calls for a luck die. They learn that complimenting the snacks Steve sets out will sometimes get them advantage on a roll. They watch Eddie snag Steve's wrist as he passes in or out of the dining room and get him to roll a D20 for various and random reasons. Steve always obliges, before drifting back to the couch with a beer or a slice of pizza and whatever basketball or baseball game is on.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But sometimes Eddie spreads newspapers over the Campaign Table (TM) and sets pots of paint and rows of miniatures out, and he and Steve sit together for a few hours, Steve slapping on the basecoats with a single pot of white, gray, or black and Eddie going to town on the details while they chat about their day, playing footsie under the table or stealing kisses while they wait for something to dry.

"Babe! I need a name for the friendly barkeep who knows more than he seems!"

"Carl."

"He's a half-orc!"

"Those are the big green guys, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Hmmm. Big Carl."

"Perfect!"

Steve never gets into DnD. But he loves Eddie, and he loves how into DnD Eddie is. So he makes room in his life for this thing that Eddie loves.

***

Eddie never gets into sports.

Like, objectively he understands that some people enjoy running around getting all sweaty, trying to keep some kind of ball away from other people and make it go into some kind of receptacle. And he certainly appreciates the view of some of those people in tight little shorts.

Particularly Steve.

Like honestly? If it wouldn't get him labeled a total creep (and they weren't so careful about giving anyone a reason to question the assumption that they're just two young friends living together to save money until they find respectable women to marry)...he'd park his van out by the little middle school where Steve teaches gym and coaches basketball and baseball every day during his lunch break, just to watch his boyfriend run the mile with his students in those shorts that hug the muscles of his thighs just right.

But he doesn't like sports apart from the strictly prurient interest he has in watching Steve wear sports-appropriate clothes.

He tries. He wants to know just what it is that keeps Steve glued to the TV when his favorite teams are playing, wants to understand why Steve yells and groans and jumps up with wild cheers, spilling popcorn all over the living room floor. He just...doesn't get it. Steve tries to explain March Madness to him one year and it makes no more sense than when Wayne tried to when Eddie was a kid. Eventually he just shrugs, kisses Steve's nose, and goes back to petting through his boyfriend's hair with a, sorry, baby, it's not for me.

And that's okay.

He gets up early the week Steve is overseeing baseball tryouts, to make sure his boyfriend has a travel mug of coffee fixed just the way he likes it, and a good breakfast waiting for him when he gets out of the shower. Steve is unquestionably the cook in their relationship, but Young Eddie ate a lot of breakfast for dinner over the years and Adult Eddie makes damn good pancakes, omelettes, and French toast.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he gets Lucas to break down exactly what kind of notes and stats Steve will be keeping track of and draws up a template "character sheet" for baseball players, spending an hour at the local library laboriously making copies with their cantankerous mimeograph machine.

He sure as shit never gets up at the crack of dawn to go running around the neighborhood the way Steve does...but on days when it starts raining or snowing halfway through Steve's run, he'll drag himself out of bed and throw some towels in the dryer, so they're nice and warm when Steve comes back inside.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he takes every overtime shift he can for a month, so he can take Steve to Chicago for his twenty-fifth birthday to see the Bulls play. The seats aren't great or anything, and it's noisy as fuck, crowded as fuck, and he has no idea why his boyfriend is losing his mind every time that Jordan guy so much as touches the ball...but Steve's eyes are sparkling, the color is high in his cheeks, and when they get back to their hotel that night, they've barely closed the door before Steve is shoving him against it, devouring his mouth.

"Hey Eds, Ohio State or Georgia Tech?"

"For what?"

"I'm doing my brackets for the pool I've got with Hopper and Lucas!"

"Um, whoever's in red!"

"Ohio State it is, thanks babe!"

Eddie never gets into sports. But that's okay. He loves Steve, and he loves how happy Steve is when he's playing, or coaching, or running (God help him, he fell in love with someone who gets up at six am to run. Without anything chasing him.) So he makes room in his life for this thing that Steve loves.

Because certainly, love grows in shared passions and matching interests. But it also flourishes in the carefully tended space you make just for the things that make your person happy...even if it's just not for you.

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my wriitng #I dunno i was just feeling soft

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biscuitdragonwithastick · 2 months

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CW: Drider Sex, Implied Somno, Implied noncon/rape, Forced Eggpreg, Unsuspecting, Aphrodisiacs, Breeding kink, Incubator Kink, Lactation

You thought you had scored big when you got to lay with a female drider. Their large breasts and dexterous bodies made for scandalous nights the stuff of legends. A check off the list for any adventurer looking to call themselves well versed in their sexual exploits.

You had smiled as the drider enraptured her body with yours, cock sure that you’d have much to brag about with your companions in the morning. That was until a sharp pain at your neck and darkness.

When you awoke, you found your belongings looted and a raging headache. The humiliation of have to trudge, naked, back to your adventuring party was more than enough to keep you quiet of what had actually happened. Their laughter and your embarrassment was what kept you distracted from the additional bloat to your middle. It was such a minute thing compared to everything else that had occurred.

It was only when you felt an ache within you that things took a turn. Your body began to feel hot. A growing need eclipsing all thought and your hole pulsing with arousal. You needed…something. It didn’t take long for you to strip for the nearest stranger you could find.

But that need didn’t go away. And neither did that weight in your middle.

You found yourself laying with your companions, becoming the whore of the party to be toyed with and used as they wished. You’d even rather be plugged with wooden recreations of the real thing than be left empty and dripping of the cum your body endlessly desired.

At last, on one fateful stop in a town, you find another drider. Male this time. The lust you’ve felt for months now clouds over your mind fully as you embrace the drider to fill you too. You hump and grind onto him as he hisses into your neck, but he doesn’t push you away.

Instead, claws dig into your shoulders as he whisks you away to the nearest bedroom. His body is as hot yours, almost like you’d melt into each other if you don’t fuck right now.

The sudden feeling of sheets against your body and the bottom half of a drider standing above you stalls you heat for just a moment. It’s then that you see the slimy cock extending beneath his spinnerets. You close your eyes and spread your legs furthest that you can. Your body needs no preparation for his inhuman cock to spear inside.

In one fluid motion, he thrusts inside like an animal. You barely register the growls he makes while the bedframe rattles against the walls. But you body is keening in response, something inside you is finally being fulfilled like nothing before.

He speaks to you, though you can barely understand a word. Something about how good of an incubator you’ve been, that it must’ve been so hard carrying “these” eggs with no one to fertilize them. You don’t understand. But it doesn’t matter. He thrusts once more inside and cums, filling you with enough cum to slosh as he grinds against you.

He pulls out then. You blush as he pushes your plug back inside to keep the cum from dribbling out. He gives you a kiss on the cheek and thanks you for being an excellent breeder before leaving.

You can’t make sense of it, but that ache is gone. Your normal again. Or so you think.

You return on you adventures, only to find with each passing week your middle grows. You try to excuse it away as weight gain – you had grown a newfound hunger since that drider – but it was harder to excuse the chest growth and sudden aching within.

Your party’s paladin was the one that gave you the news, but you still refused to believe it. It was you companions decision to stop and wait this out when it became clear you weren’t going to relax yourself.

You all rested at a remote inn, you pregnant belly large enough to prevent you from scootching your chair all the way in. You couldn’t wear your armor anymore. Now stuck wearing a borrowed shirt from barbarian orc and even the shirt was struggling contain your width.

When you all settled in for the night, the paladin offered some ointment for your breasts. He knew you were aching. Though tried to deny it, you didn’t stop him when he settled a hand under your shirt and began to rub. Your stubbornness had always made you refuse help. You couldn’t stop the groan of gratitude when ache turned dull, then gasped.

The dullness turned pleasurable. Looking down, you saw wet spots had formed were your nipples had been.

“Milk”, the paladin explains.

You don’t say a word as he lifts up your shirt and covers your breast with his mouth. The suction causes you to gasp and grab and his hair, unsure whether to pull him closer and push away.

The orc laughs at the sight, walking over with a leather canteen. He tugs on your other breast, filling the bottle while the paladin continues to suck.

“Might as well make use of your udders while we can.”

You blush and open your mouth to argue, but a fat palm grinds over your crotch and more milk spurts from your cumbersome breasts. “Breeder” is what the drider had called. You want to disagree with the word, but as your companions take turns fucking you, trading mouths over your sloshing breasts, all while your egg stuff belly jiggles and grows with each passing day, you find it hard to disagree.

#monsterfucker #monster breeding #terato #monster x reader #eggpreg #monster fucker #ovipositor #implied somno #cnc drugging #cnc somno #cnc k!nk #lactating kink #pregnancy kink #non specified gender #non specified gender reader #incomplete #biscuit snippet

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strawberrypoundtown · 22 days

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Orc x Halforc!Fem!Reader

You're the clanleaders mixed race eldest daughter. Your older brother has one of his friends watch over you as you start to get eyed by other males in the clan, only for you to eye the rugged brute in charge of protecting you.

(Part 2 here)

Contains: sexual tension, nudity, mentions of biting and scratching

Being the clanleaders eldest daughter was difficult enough, but being a half orc made your daily life annoying. Your mother was a very beautiful and brave woman, especially considering your father was one of the most feared warriors in the world before meeting her. After they had met, your father doted on your mother constantly, and still does to this day. He's still a terrifying warrior, he just doesn't go on raids as much anymore.

However, as you got older, you realized that your parents had painted a picture of your innocence for you that made finding a a partner difficult. You had always been one of the best warriors among everyone else around your age when you were growing up, but your parents always acted like you were the most fragile little thing. So what if you broke your arm a few months ago while on a hunt that got out of hand? You didn't need to have your weapons and armor confiscated.

You let out a deep sigh and rubbed your eyes, before your tent flaps are rudely ripped open, earning a groan out of you. You stubbornly rolled over in your bed and pulled the blankets over your head, not even looking at who might have stumbled into your tent.

"Go away idiot. Let me sleep." You groaned, closing your eyes as you assumed it was one of your many siblings coming to wake you up way too early. You hear the person clear their throat and your eyes shoot open. 'That's not one of my siblings'

"Grobur asked me to come and get you. He wants to talk to you." You're thrown off by the deep voice that haunts your dreams and your cheeks flush. Why did your brother have to send him everytime?

Gan. You have had a crush on him for years. Almost as long as you can remember. He was only a couple year older than you and your brother Grobur's best friend since childhood. He was always so stoic and calm around you, even when you were kids. He was the only person that seemed to actually treat you like you could take care of yourself, while still being protective over you. You loved how protective he would get with you at times, making sure the other men stayed in their place when they went too far with you during practice. Seeing him spar and beat the crap out of the person that tried to beat you put a strange thrilling twist in your stomach. Watching him fight with no armor and barely any clothes, seeing his sweaty green skin glistening in the sun. Each muscle rippling as you would think about how gently he hugs you for a big brute like him. You had to stop watching him so much when you caught yourself drooling one day.

"Today, princess." He grumbled with a hint of sass, breaking you out of your daydream. It was his nickanem for you. It was his way of teasing you. He loved calling you princess, but you always wish he would call you his princess. You grunted and pout as you sat up in bed, staring up at him as you held the blanket up to cover your body. You had picked a bad night to go to bed naked.

"How about you get out so I can put on some clothes? I don't think Grobur would appreciate you parading me around camp naked." You giggled teasingly. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape before quickly coughing to cover his embarrassment and turning around to avert his eyes completely and to prevent pitching a tent of his own. He kinda wished you would show him your gorgeous, bountiful breasts, but then he quickly shoved that thought to the back of his head so he could speak

"I-I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. I'll be waiting outside for you." He said softly before leaving your tent. You sighed softly as you got up, slipping into some random clothes quickly, trying to calm your blushing face by rubbing your cheeks. After brushing your hair, you exit your tent and walk up to Gan. God he was massive. He was the largest male in the clan. Your eyes wander down his body briefly, wondering how big his di-

"Are you ready?" He asks you, interrupting your thoughts as you look back up at his face. He wasn't looking at you, seemingly trying to avoid looking at you while he took a step and started to walk ahead. You smile to yourself a little. Maybe you made him flustered?

"O-oh, uh, yes! Let's go." You stammer as you jump to follow him, doing a light jog to keep pace with him.

As you walk around camp, you don't notice the longing and lustful glances many of the males your age get on their faces as you walk by. The rugged orc leading you was the only male you had your eye on.

However, Gan does notice them. It infuriates him to no end that you're subjected to being seen by other males as a plaything, a trophy. None of them deserved you in his opinion. He could tell that in other males eyes, they just saw lust for you.

Gan made sure to look as intimidating as possible as he walked through camp with you, the other males quickly looking away from you when they saw him. When you started getting looks year ago, he started volunteering to escort you wherever you needed to go, under the guise of being sent there by your brother to make sure you were safe. He didn't trust anyone else to guard you, but him. Not like you particularly needed it. Your frame may only come up to his pecs, but you still had orc-like strength. You were strong even when you two were growing up, often besting him in sparring matches when you were little until he got too big for you to pin down.

His mind wanders until he remembers how your hair and clothes would get tousled around when you two had your last sparring match a few months ago. He loved it when you looked so determined in battle, licking and bearing your short, sharp tusks as you tried to catch your breath. Seeing you all sweaty, breathing heavily because of him drove him crazy. Your body was strong, but soft to the touch. Your curves drove him nuts and the muscles under your softness were to die for. You were so soft to him that it was like you could bruise at any moment, but you never did. He could throw you around for what felt like hours and you'd leave with barely a scratch, while he was left with your scratch marks and bites all over his arms and shoulders. Your sharp little tusks had left a few scars bethind over the years. You liked to fight dirty, and he loved it. He'd never admit it tho. He had to let you get him in a hold so he could tap out when he had noticed himself getting a bit too excited.

As you approached the large dining hall tent, you heard your brother and your parents talking happily at the head table, along with the rest of your siblings. Your brother is seated next to his wife, a stunningly beautiful female orc that waves to you with one hand, the other on her swollen pregnant belly.

"(Y/n)! Good morning!" She cheerfully greets. Everyone else at the table smiles at you and welcomes you to sit at the table. You wonder what they're so chipper about.

"Good morning everyone." You say softly before yawning, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes as you stood next to Gan.

"We have some good news for you sweetie." Your mom says with a smile. "You know how we've been worried about you getting a mate? Well, we decided to pick someone to watch over you-"

"Mom, I can take care of myself. I don't need someone watching over me all the time." You cut her off, already not wanting to entertain the idea of having a personal babysitter.

"(Y/n), we just want someone to keep an eye on you so no one tries to hurt you. We know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't have someone watching out for you." Your brother says before rolling his eyes, his wife harshly nudging him with her elbow, making him grunt and clutch his side.

"I don't understand why you're so worried about me all the time. I rarely ever see anyone try to look at me, let alone talk to me!" You threw your hands up in the air in frustration, having absolutely no idea that you were standing next to the reason why.

"I don't think you realize how some of the other males have been looking at you lately. You're more than old enough to find a mate now, so males are going to start trying to get your attention more. Some of them might end up getting dangerous..." your mother said softly, an empathetic look on her face as she looked at you. She knew this frustrated you, but she wanted to make sure you were protected if anything were to go wrong. You looked back into her eyes and sighed softly. You knew it was better to have protection than not, and you knew they all meant well.

"I understand. I just hope it's temporary." You say with a hopeful smile, and your father nods.

"It will be. We promise. Once you've found a mate, your guard will be dismissed." Your father states and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Who's the poor sucker that has to try and keep track of her?" Your 13 year old brother chuckled to himself before shoving more food into his mouth, earning a punch to his shoulder from your 16 year old sister.

"I will be." The voice next to you states in a low grumble, glancing at you briefly with what you could swear was a small smirk.

God damn it

#monster x reader #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster boyfriend #orc x reader #orc #half orc

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thechaoticdruid · 5 months

Text

[We'll Protect Each Other]

Paring: F!Tav x Astarion

Plot: While staying at an inn in the Underdark an unfortunate chain of events forces Tav and Astarion to protect one another.

Content Warnings: Fiercely protective Tav, Tav uses She/Her pronouns, Tav is kinda feral and unhinged, blood, gore, threats of/ literal genital trauma, we are going game of thrones up in this bitch, sexual harassment, brief allusions to Astarion's trauma, violence, so much fucking violence, death, Tav is heavily based on my own Tav Winnie. Oh and a little fluff.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tav hummed as she sat at the tavern table, glancing down upon the suspicious letter she'd received last night.

‘I'll see you soon, True Soul.’

Been a while since she was called that, almost everyone who had referred to her as a ‘true soul’ was dead now so being addressed as such was rather peculiar, but at the same time not completely unwelcome. Tav smirked slightly, the idea of a new foe to face sparked excitement. It had been so long since the human druid had a good fight. Since the defeat of the Elder Brain she'd been staying in the Underdark, looking after a horde of hungry vampire spawn. Her days weren't uneventful in the slightest, but gods did she miss adventuring.

Tav's lover was over at the bar getting the two something to drink. Since the Underdark has become home to seven thousand life-challenged individuals this particular inn had made preparations to feed them should any appear at the establishment. He tapped his claws on the table, waiting for the bartender to finish mixing up their beverages as an uneasy feeling coursed through his body. Astarion had felt unfamiliar eyes on him since he'd left to get him and his beloved some refreshments. His blood red eyes darted back and scanned the tavern. Tav was still waiting at their table and mostly all the other patrons there happened to be deep gnomes, all who seemed much more concerned with friendly banter. But then he spotted someone off in the corner. A tall half-orc whose eyes seemed trained on him. Astarion wasn't exactly sure how he didn't spot the big oaf sooner, usually he was far more perceptive than this, but perhaps his hunger had him quite distracted. The elven vampire tapped on the bar table impatiently wondering exactly what was taking the bartender so long.

Eventually the half-drow barmaid brought over the drinks.

“Sorry for the wait.” She said softly, “not used to preparing food for our night time visitors.” The half-elf handed him a cold mug of dessert wine and a warm mug of ethically precured lifeblood.

Astarion took the drinks before turning and making his way back. The half-orc then made his move, walking straight towards him.

“Have a drink with me, handsome?” The half-orc gave a flirtatious smile, making the elf internally sigh in annoyance.

“No, I think not. My partner is waiting for me, you see.” Astarion gave a forced smile before attempting to make his way back to Tav. A large green hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Come on! Surely you're not talking about the little rat’s nest of hair? Sweetheart, I could show you things that little human wench couldn't even dream of-”

The elf quickly slapped his hand away.

“Oh, I highly doubt you could show me anything I haven't already done myself. Now bugger off.” Astarion growled out the last part, barring his fangs at the orc before stomping off.

Tav glanced up as Astarion took a seat next to her. He had a look of discomfort on his face, but quickly bushed it off as he noticed her attention on him. “I'm back, my sweet.” Astarion smiled at Tav, setting their drinks down before planting a kiss on her cheek.

“You okay, doll? You seem uncomfortable.” Tav put her hand on his shoulder only to receive a small smile as his hand covered her own.

“I'm fine, love. Just a little annoyed by the wait is all.” Astarion squeezed her hand gently, not wanting her to worry.

“Okay….” Tav said before looked back down at the letter, taking a sip from the wine Astarion had brought her.

“What's that?” Astarion asked, sliding an arm over her shoulders before taking a sip from his own mug and internally sighing.

Rothé blood….

“Just an ominous threatening letter left by gods know who.” Tav said casually, nearly making Astarion spit out his blood.

“Ah darling, perhaps you should be a just little more concerned about this?”

“I'm not afraid. Let them come get me! I've been itching for a good fight for ages!” Tav clenched her fist, a wicked grin spread across her face.

“Oh Tav, you know what that bloodlust look does to me.~” Astarion flirted leaning closer against his love. “But maybe we should be at least a bit more careful?”

“We’ve dealt with plenty of baddies before, Star. It’ll be fine!” Tav insisted.

“Need I remind you that there are only two of us now since the others have all gone their separate ways.” Astarion sighed, “I just worry for you, my dear.”

“I know babe.” Tav planted a kiss on his cheek affectionately before saying,”I'll tell you what, once we get everything sorted out with the other spawn we'll recruit some new traveling companions and go after that ring of the sunwalker thing I heard about.” This brought a smile to the vampire’s lips.

Large footsteps were heard stomping over to the table. Astarion glanced up seeing the half-orc from before approaching them.

“Sorry about my behavior before sweetness. I've just never seen such a breathtaking looking creature such as yourself. So, how about you ditch the runt and i'll take you somewhere we can get you something better to drink…. Perhaps someone?~”

“Are you daft? I told you to bugger off!” Astarion snarled, glaring daggers at the large male. Astarion kept his arm around Tav in a protective manner, but it was more so for his own comfort truth be told. The half-orc was really making him uneasy. Tav could feel Astarion shake a little.

“Hey, no need to be like that, I just want a piece of that tight little elven as-” The half-orc was suddenly silenced by a scimitar pressed dangerously close to his groin.

“You really don't want to finish that sentence, big guy.” Tav said calmly, not even looking up at the green bastard. “You know I’ve been really itching to slit someone's throat lately, but you….I think I might have fun with you…” She said before finally turning her head towards him, a sadistic grin spread across her lips.

“Y-You better watch yourself y-you little b-b-bitch!” He whined out the last part feeling Tav press her blade harder against his clothed crotch.

“Oh I like this!” Tav breathed out, voice unhinged and full of bloodlust as the half-orc began to shake in terror. “A big stupid creep thinks he can push me around just because I'm small…It's almost cute how pathetic you are. I should cut you open and show everyone what you really are inside. A gutless coward!” Tav stared at him intensely. The wicked grin spread across her lips didn't falter even for a second, until eventually she sighed.

“But it'd be rude to get blood all over Lyn’s nice clean floors.” Tav said, speaking of the half-drow bartender. “So you're going to leave now and never come near my lover again, or I'll cut your cock off and shove it down your throat. Understand?” Tav spat, nearly stabbing the blade of her scimitar through the orc’s pants.

“Y-Yes m-ma’m!” The half-orc said in a high pitch tone.

“Good boy.” Tav pulled her blade back, “now get the fuck out of my sight.” She growled, causing the green creep to turn and make a run for it, slamming the door on his way out of the tavern. All the gnomes had seemed to halt their chatter and look over to the two lovers.

“Tav…” Astarion muttered in an irritated tone, “I didn't need you to defend me! I had that completely under control!” He fussed, clearly embarrassed because of the scene Tav had caused.

“I'm sure you did sweetie, but you can't just expect me to sit by and do nothing when some pervert keeps treating you like a piece of meat.” Tav said calmly.

“Darling that orc was huge! What if you hadn't been quick enough!? What if he comes back!?”

“Honey, I can literally turn into an owlbear.” Tav rolled her eyes. “I know you’re capable of kicking ass, Star. I have no doubt about that. But I don’t protect you because I think you're weak. I do it because I love you.” Tav said sweetly, placing her hand against his cheek. “And sometimes it's okay to need someone to protect you…” She looked down at his trembling hands. Fear began to stir in her gut, worried that he might have been triggered by the situation. Astarion simply place his hand over hers and relaxed into her touch.

“I know. I love you too…It's just…I want to be able to protect the both of us…” Astarion glanced off to the side.

“You can! Babe, you're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for! You practically carried our team the entire time we were worm brained!” Tav placed a second hand on the other side of his face. Astarion rolled his eyes with a slight smile.

“Gods Tav, you're such a bad liar.”

“I'm not lying!” Tav chuckled, “I'm pretty sure you have more kills than the rest of us combined! You're so stealthily and quick! The fuckers never saw it coming!”

“Well perhaps I could be willing to allow you to win this little debate. Granted you continue to list off all of my many talents, or you can just call me beautiful and we can head upstairs for the evening?”

“You're beyond beautiful, my Star.” Tav purred.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The night was quiet as Tav and Astarion rested on the top floor of the Inn. Both of them snug in their bed. Astarion always had a tendency to curl around Tav as she slept and he tranced. However, tonight Tav lay there, eyes wide open. Her mind for some reason wandering off to a memory brought on by today's events.

“I assume he belongs to you.” The drow’s eyes leered over Astarion lustfully as she spoke about his as if he was nothing but cattle.

“Excuse me? I don't appreciate you talking about my friend like he's a fucking piece of property.” Tav snapped, stepping in front of her companion protectively. Of course she'd see him that way. The drow treat all their men like cattle. The fact didn't make Tav any less insulted.

“Now now. No need to speak like that. I only wish to make a trade.” The drow said calmly, however her stare seemed to harden a little. “What is your name, spawn?”

“It’s Astarion but hold on!” Astarion put his hands up as if to keep some distance between him the drow.

“Astarion, I've dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a little girl.” She purred. Tav shot the drow a look which she ignored, red eyes locked on Astarion’s mouth.

“Let me get this straight, you want to be bitten?” Astarion asked, a look of confusion and disgust filled his face. Normally he would jump at a chance to sink his teeth into a willing person, hells part of him wanted to drain this bitch dry because of how she talked about him, but this drow pretty as she was her blood smelled worse than death itself! Just being in her presence was enough to make him want to gag!

“To feel my life’s essence slipping away, to dance on the edge of death, yes I want it.” She said, nearly swooning. “I'll even compensate you. A potion of legendary power. It's not for sale, but it's yours if you bite me.”

“I will have to decline.” Astarion said immediately.

“Excuse me? This is a once and a lifetime opportunity and you're squandering it!”

“I gave you my answer!” Astarion spat. The drow woman ignored him and immediately turned to Tav.

“Can't you talk some sense into your obstinate charge!?” She demanded.

“He said no. The hells do you not understand?” The druid snapped.

Gods, Tav couldn't help but think back to her first encounter with Araj the drow blood merchant. This incident today reminded her far too much of it. Except this time it might have been worse. The fucking orc actually tried to put his hands on him.

Tav furrowed her eyebrows and glanced back over to Astarion’s peaceful looking face. She knew he could handle himself in a fight, but the situation was different. These sorts of things really got to him. Tav ran her fingers gently through his hair. She needed to keep safe no matter what. Sleep took Tav eventually and she snuggled into her vampire’s embrace, enjoying the coolness of his skin. And for a while the two were at peace, blissfully unaware of what lurked in the shadows.

It was probably about midnight when Tav woke up. She whimpered and felt around the bed for her lover, only feeling emptiness in his place.

“Astarion?” Her eyes slowly blinked open and Tav sat up. She glanced around the room discovering the vampiric elf was nowhere in sight. She tried to rationalize that Astarion was probably just up and around since he didn't need as much rest as she did, but Tav couldn't help but feel anxiety creep its way into the back of her mind. She got to her feet before slowly feeling a dagger be pressed against her throat.

“Nice to see you again, true soul…” A familiar feminine voice spoke softly in Tav's ear, causing her to grit her teeth as she looked back.

“Araj? The hells are you doing all the way out here?” Tav sneered.

“I needed to see you again. I require your help.”

“I told you before, you aren't getting any more of my blood and if you even think of bringing up Astarion so help me-”

“This isn't about him, darling. This is about you. I am on the verge of something extraordinary, but I need one key ingredient. Your heart.” Araj slowly dragged the knife down her throat and down between her breasts.

Tav rolled her eyes before chuckling.

“Sweet, but you know I'm spoken for.” In a swift motion the druid slammed her foot down on the drow's own before grasping hold of her wrist and forcing the blade away from her body.

“You idiots! Get in here and help me!” Araj suddenly shouted, prompting the door to open, revealed two half-orc male’s and a female.

With them was Astarion bound with silver chains wrapped around his body. Cloth was tied around his mouth, preventing him from speaking, but Tav could very clearly hear him whimpering in pain. The silver was burning his skin!

“Now cooperate or else! I'll make sure our darling bloodsuck-” Tav didn't even give the drow a moment to speak any further before knocking the blade from her hand and slamming her fist into her face with enough force to knock Araj to the floor. Araj hit the ground with a thud, seemingly knocked unconscious from the blow. The druid’s eyes quickly went back to Astarion who was struggling and letting out muffled cries of pain, but despite this he looked far more pissed off than afraid. That didn't calm the rage that was stirring deep inside Tav however, and the fact that the same gods damned perverted orc from before was holding onto Astarion's silver chains just pushed her over the edge.

Without even thinking Tav dropped to the ground transforming into a huge direwolf before letting out a deep bloodthirsty snarl and lunging right for the familiar half orc. Her jaws sank right into his groin, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream.

“Bloody hells! Get that thing off of him!” The female half-orc shouted.

“But the vampire!?” The other male orc replied.

“He's tied up you dumb fuck!” She shouted before turning to attack Tav. Tav yanked her head back hard, tearing a chunk out of the half-orc’s flesh and trousers. The half orc continued to scream as Tav spat his unmentionables out before he tumbled over and began to bleed out on the floor.

“That crazy drow bitch better pay us good for this.” The remaining male half-orc muttered before charging at Tav alongside the female.

Tav quickly dove under his legs before bucking him to the ground with her back and darting right for Astarion. Astarion shook his head as his wildshaped lover approached him with a doglike whine and sunk her teeth into his chains, trying to he them off him. She was only able to allow one of his arms to slip free. Astarion quickly tore the cloth around his head.

“For gods' sake Tav! Look out!” He shouted, before suddenly the female half-orc slammed into Tav from behind, wrapping her arms around her in a headlock.

“I've got her! I've got her!” The female orc shouted. Tav growled loudly before turning round and sinking her teeth into the orc female’s shoulder. In the struggle the two ended up tumbling down the stairs and out the front door of the tavern. The half-orc male was about to run off after his female companion when suddenly he noticed Astarion had somehow slipped free from his bindings. The vampire’s skin was quickly healing from the burns left from the silver, and his eyes almost appeared to be glowing red. He clenched and unclenched his fists revealing sharp claw-like fingernails and the next thing the half-orc knew were icy fangs piercing his throat.

Outside the tavern, Tav and the female orc were still going at it. The half orc threw a punch to Tav's head knocking her back before she took out a blade and took a stab at the direwolf only for Tav to dart out of the way at the last second and take a bit at the orc woman’s leg.

“You godsdamn mutt!” She yelled, kicking Tav in the face before plugging her blade into her back.

Tav howled in pain and backed up, blood trickling down her back and staining her fur. She let out a pained whimper as she looked up at the half-orc.

The she-orc smirked triumphantly.

“Not so high and mighty now are you, druid?” She huffed starring Tav right in the eyes. Without another word Tav lunged at the orc with a monstrous growl, sinking her jaws into the green female's head.

“GODS DAMNIT!!” The half-orc screamed. Tav sunk her claws into her shoulders as she stood up on her hind legs and dug her teeth into the orc's skull. Then with a harsh whip of her head Tav snapped her opponent’s neck. The druid then released the orc, letting her drop to the ground.

Tav dropped back down on all fours with a sigh, panting a little from the fight. She turned her head and yanked the blade from her back. Luckily in this form she wouldn't actually be harmed. But she was honestly feeling far too tired to stay in her wildshape now. Slowly she transformed back, taking a moment to regain her strength.

“A-Astarion…I-I need to get back to Astarion…” Tav told herself.

“I'm afraid you won't be seeing him again.” Araj suddenly stepped out from the shadows, blade in hand. “I am not leaving without your heart!” She hissed.

“Oh for fucks sake! Don't you ever get tired of being a psycho!?” Tav hissed, she quickly reached for her weapon, but this time Araj was quicker. She stabbed her blade into Tav's leg making her freeze.

“What….W-What is this!?” Tav sputtered, suddenly feeling her limbs begin to tingle and go numb. She tried to move, but her body just felt so heavy.

“A paralysis potion I've been keeping for a rainy day. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to use it. I have no idea what affects it will have on your heart unfortunately, but I can't let you get away.” Araj stopped as she watched Tav whimper and squirm on the ground. The silver haired female wiped her blade clean off the potion before she then undid the buttons on Tav's shirt, exposing her chest.

“Now I'll need a nice clean cut. I don't want to damage your heart too badly.” The drow licked her lips before dragging the tip of her blade over Tav’s chest. “Just close your eyes and it'll be all over…” Tears began to form in the corners of Tav’s eyes, heart pounding so hard she was sure it’d burst right out before that damn drow bitch would even have a chance to cut into it.

“Get away from my Tav.” Astarion suddenly growled out, appearing behind Araj who quickly turned and struck at him with her blade.

“Not until I have her heart!” Araj hissed.

Astarion ducked out of the way, unsheathing his own blade and taking a swing at her. His dagger barely nicked the side of her cheek as she dodged, drawing a few drops of blood.

“Gods below, it's even more foul smelling than before!” He made a gagging sound.

“Mock me all you like! It won't stop me!” Araj took another stab at Astarion aiming right for his throat, but he quickly grabbed her wrists and pushed her back towards the ground. Now that he was free of the tadpole his vampiric strength returned and it gave him an edge in battle.

“You know darling, I think I may have had a sudden change of heart. I may just bite you after all.” Astarion said, forcing a grin upon his face.

“What-” Confusion flickered over her face for a split second, immediately being followed by Astarion sinking his fangs into her neck, but instead of drinking her blood, he tore her throat right out.

Astarion immediately spat out any of her blood that had gotten into his mouth before watching her drop to the ground, a twisted smile plastered over her face. “I-Incredible….” She choked out before suddenly coughing up an alarming amount of blood.

He quickly disregarded her lifeless body and swiftly moved to Tav who was still paralyzed on the ground.

“My love, are you alright?” Astarion knelt down and cradled her head with one hand.

“I-I can't m-move….S-She got me with a paralysis poison…” Tav croaked out.

“Hang in there lover.”Astarion frowned, looking down at Tav with worry. He immediately scooped her up bridal-style. “I'm going to take you to Dalyria. She should be able to cure this.” Astarion carried Tav back into the tavern. Several of the patrons were whispering to each other. Some seemed deathly afraid of Astarion and his love. The vampire spawn simply ignored them.

“I don't think we're going to be welcome here any longer, Star.” Tav said as Astarion set her down on a sofa near the tavern fireplace.

“Forget them, darling. We're leaving anyway. Now sit tight while I grab our things.” Astarion said, kissing her forehead before quickly going upstairs to get their packs. Tav sat by the fire, she could see the barmaid Lyn giving her an awfully ugly look.

Good gods, it's not our fault we were attacked.

Tav rolled her eyes. It didn't take long for Astarion to return with their things. Tav weakly nuzzled her face into his neck as Astarion scooped her back up into his arms. Tav stared up at him with adoration as he carried her out.

“You did it, you know.” She hummed.

“What are you on about?’ Astarion glanced down at her.

“You protected me!” Tav exclaimed with a weak smile, “and thank the gods you did. I was sure I was a goner.”

“You give me far too much credit, my love. I still allowed you to get injured. You did a much better job than I.” Astarion huffed.

“You kidding? You just saved my life Astarion and this isn't even the first time.” Tav insisted. “Look, from now on no more arguing over who protects who. We protect each other and that's final.”

“You're being awfully demanding of someone who can't even move her arms, my dear.” Astarion chuckled, “but I am grateful all the same.”

He planted another kiss upon Tav's forehead before continuing on to meet up with his sister and hopefully cure his beloved’s ailment.

The two set off, leaving the tavern to deal with three battered corpses and a mysterious trail of blood…

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Note from TheChaoticDruid: Phew! Finally got this thing out! Honestly despite finding her a very shitty person and absolutely despising how she treats Astarion I can't help but find Araj interesting. The whole thing with blood and heck the creepy shit you find in her basement makes me want to know more about her. Kinda went a little overboard with this in terms of violence I guess, but I kinda wish there were more bg3 fics with some action in them. Also, I may have kinda ignored how silver and vampires work in DnD, but BG3 plays fast and loose with lore so I guess I will too. Hope you like it!

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randompandabaewrites · 19 days

Text

You are Safe - Deepest Desires

//One shot of Deepest Desires - Astarion Drabble. Very fluffy/comforting smut with many feelings. Not edited... Song Rec: Light by Sleeping at Last//

Explicit, Astarion x f!Tav, post cannon, 2.2k

cw: coping with sex/intimacy issues & allusions to Astarion's past

Astarion Ancunin was a sight to behold in any light.

The moon might make him look like some ethereally wicked beauty, but Tav much preferred the golden glow they were bathed in now.

She sank into the plush leather sofa near the crackling hearth, cradling a cup of mulled wine. The spiced aroma chased away the chill of the night fallen outside the inn as her eyes drew lazily over the trophies adoring the walls—swords, shields, mounted heads of beasts. Theirs was just another story to add to the collection.

Tav might be warmer still, without the vampire stretched out languidly beside her, but she would not give up the comfort of his closeness for the world.

“You know, I still don’t like being the hero. It is beyond tedium. ”

Astarion mused over the rim of his cup, as if he could detect her thoughts and had to refute them.

“That so? You play the part so well.” Tav quipped back lovingly.

“Well, I suppose I do enjoy all of the fawning adulation.” Astarion mused. “And the gold, of course.”

Tav shook her head fondly. She’d let him maintain the charade as long as he liked; she had already seen under the mask. He sent a smirk her way, his ruby eyes glinting with the firelight. Distracting her from the way he was balancing his goblet on its very edge, one of his dexterous fingers on lip of the drink, tilting further and further as if he dared the wine inside to spill.

Or he was simply teasing Tav with the threat of it.

“Beggin’ your pardon,” The inn keeper, a matronly half-orc with a smile around her tusks approached them. “Finest room we have is ready for ya, token of our gratitude for dealin’ with our Worg problem.”

“Thank you, Gerda, that’s too kind of you.” Tav said graciously. “We’re happy we could help.”

She shot her companion a glance, but he was intently finishing his wine with only a raise of his eyebrows.

She felt Astarion’s eyes on her as she conversed cordially with the inn keeper, his gaze as tangible as a caress along her cheek. Tav knew the warmth of that look. Little flickering moments of unguarded affection more sincere than any pretty picture his words could paint.

The only recognition Tav gave was the smile at the corner of her lips. Because that was the game they played. Sparing his pride until the rest of the world faded away.

This. This was everything she fought for. These quiet nights brighter than any flames.

…

Soon they retreated to the comfort of their room after a long day. Astarion led her up the stairs, silently twining their fingers together. Tav knew it was another gesture she wasn’t supposed to linger on, but if he kept this up, the dam would burst sooner rather than later.

He pushed the door to their chambers open with an overly theatrical flourish. “Not quite fit for a king…but I suppose it will do.”

Tav rolled her eyes, stepping past him to take in a very comfortable room that was downright luxurious in its details. Plush carpet, dark wood walls, and a canopied bed piled with silken sheets and pillows.

“After sleeping in bedrools on the hard ground,” Tav put her hands on her hips, a smile on her lips with her tone placating him. “I think it will suffice.”

Astarion came up behind her then, his cool breath ghosting over her ear as he murmured. “Then it is a shame you will not have the time to admire the finer details.”

In the second of warning he gave, Tav knew well he could hear every uptick of her heart.

Astarion had her spun around, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. Tav’s back hit the wall with a soft thud, her lover’s lithe body pinning her in place as he lifted their still entwined hands above her head.

Those clever fingers hand already snuck under the hem of her tunic, drawing lines over the swell of her hip.

“I have all that I need to admire.” Tav arched to the touch with a sigh as she finally exhaled.

“Such flattery.” Astarion’s smirk was downright sinful, sending heat and want curling through her. Those ruby eyes glinted bright in the soft firelight of the room.

Soon, their packs were dropped to the side, shedding the last trappings of battle with the armor and gore already tucked away. Leaving no more barriors between them as passion sparked in the scant space between them. His nibble fingers made quick work of the laces of her tunic, the fabric falling away to expose her collarbones, and her chest.

Tav lifted her chin, playfully offering her neck, knowing how it thrilled him though he would not bite—not just yet. But Astarion would duck his head to draw his teeth teasingly along the colomn of her throat.

She peered over his white curls. “My love, the door is still—” A sharp kick shut the door, and its lever lock clicked into place. “Thank you.”

Astarion’s scoff tingled against her pulse point. He was far more preoccupied with mapping out the newly exposed skin, like it hadn’t been under his lips a thousand times. As if he wasn’t intimately familiar and once again confident with his ability to drive her mad. As if she didn’t know him just as well.

When he pulled back to rid her of her pesky tunic, she used her chance. Tav’s fingers slid into his silky curls, just brushing her thumbs over the tips of his pointed ears.

That got his attention.

Astarion made a low, pleased sound in the back of his throat, finding her mouth again.

The kisses grew more urgent as Astarion pressed Tav back against the wood-paneled wall, her arms around his shoulders as he used his thigh to part hers.

Easy as could be, like they were dancing together again. Tav took his lead, her leg hooked around his waist before he had to reach for her. Their bodies were brought flush together--letting her feel the hard press of his arousal.

“It would be a shame,” Tav murmured against the vampire’s lips. “Not to make use of the bed, don’t you think? I know how much you do enjoy fine linens.”

Astarion laughed, the sound decadent yet playful. “My darling, the only thing more appealing than being wrapped up in silk, is being wrapped up in you.”

Heat flooded into her cheeks, just like he knew it would. Even now, his lines always worked on her.

Tav reached for the hem of Astarion’s shirt, ridding him of it and letting it join her tunic on the floor. He was already walking her back towards the bed—but it just wasn’t enough to map out the planes of his chest with her fingers, hooking into the waist of his breaches.

“Can I?” Tav lifted her eyes, her mouth already watering.

“You hardly have to ask.” He purred, pecking her lips just once more. “But…I’m glad that you did.”

She always would. Sometimes to his annoyance, but the vampire seemed more than in the mood to humor her sweetness tonight. Astarion freed his cock from his breeches as he sat back on the bed, stroking himself languidly, watching her with bright ruby eyes as she eagerly sank to her knees.

He was so damn gorgeous like this, confident in seeking his pleasure, knowing Tav was more than willing to give.

Her hand curled around his, before she was drawing the tip of him between her lips. She adored the sweet, strangled sound he gave as he relenquished his hold to her, those deft fingers threading into her hair as she swallowed him down.

Tav loved him like this. Loved that she was the one who got to see Astarion this way—wanting and vulnerable and utterly hers.

She poured every ounce of devotion into the slide of her mouth, wanting him to shatter from it. For all pretense to fall away like the filthy praise faltering from his lips, and let her catch him when he fell.

Astarion tensed under her, the muscles in his thighs and the hand in her hair gone ridgid.

Tav pulled back, her eyes seeking his, looking for the glassy sheen to cover his red irises or the distance in his gaze. “You can let go, love.” lacing the reassurance his ego sometimes spurned in a seductive purr. “I want you to.”

Astarion’s scoff was breathier than he intended, she could see it on his face, but the hand in her hair curled around her chin, capturing her jaw as he bent to claim her lips.

“As tempting as that mouth of yours may be…I’d much rather be inside you.”

Her pulse quickened under his hold.

Tav was on her feet, ridding herself of any thing that could get between them. Before straddling Astarion’s lap. Reveling in his groan as he tasted himself on her tongue.

Those damned fingers of his were already delving between her soaked folds, thumbing her clit so perfectly it was maddening in an instant.

“Astarion, please…” Tav breathed against his mouth.

“I know darling.” His grin nipped at her lower lip, fingers sliding into her and curling just so. “No one knows you as I do.”

He was distracting her, and he was so very, very good at it. Tav rocked needily into him, pleasure sparking up her spine. Her fingers clutched into the fine curls at the back of his neck. Trying to ground herself to meet his burning gaze.

“No one loves you as I do.”

Something beautifully yearning moved across his face. The ghost of a longing to be known—and to still be loved. It was all he could never bring himself to ask for, and yet she gave it, freely, whenever she thought he may need it.

The next meeting of their lips was filled with nothing but tenderness, even as he pulled her closer still, breaking only as he filled her completely.

Astarion’s grip tightened on her hips, and Tav understood.

She let him bear her back onto the plush bed, surrendering to his need for control. Her hands fell back to either side of the pillow, as she searched the ethereal beauty of his face above her, assuring herself that he wasn’t lost to the old shadows.

Clear crimson eyes gazed back at her, their only darkness that of desire.

Satisfied, Tav wrapped her legs around Astarion’s waist, urging him deeper inside her. He obliged her with a precise roll of his hips that nearly had stars bursting behind her eyelids.

“That’s it, my love.” Astarion purred, his breath played over her lips as his body moved with hers, sweet and aching, their fingers wound together even as he kept her wrists pinned.

Tav could feel the edge of her bliss tugging at her, the way she clenched desperately around his cock, it was so damn close—

Astarion shuddered above her, tensing on instinct, resisting that final surrender, even now. His old wounds would never go fully away, but she could soothe them when they surfaced. Because she knew him.

“Let go, my love, I have you.”

He did, spilling into her with a choked cry, his hips snapping hard and fast into hers, sending pleasure that arched up her spine until it overwhelmed her.

Spent, still tangled together, collapsed together.

Astarion’s cool skin was a balm against her heated body, when he finally released her hands. Tav’s arms wrapped around him, feeling the faintest of trembling in the raw moments after. He hid his face crook of her shoulder, letting her fingers slide through his curls.

Tav shifted only enough to bare her throat to him, remembering how he teased that she tasted better shortly after their coupling.

Far from a distraction, it was a gesture of the intimate trsut they shared. Astarion only hesitated a moment, before sharp fangs pierced her skin, and Tav relaxed into the familiar heat and sting.

He drank from her, lost in the bliss of her blood. Comforted by the familiarity of it.

When the vampire pulled back, a trickle of red dripped from his grin, and Tav swiped it away with her thumb.

Astarion turned his face into her touch, a kiss pressed into her palm. Before he gathered her into his arms for the rest of the night.

…

Golden sunlight crept across the room as dark became day.

Astarion stayed with his head tucked under Tav’s chin, her heart beat a comforting rhythm against his ear. He stirred only as the warm glow softened his sharp features, and she finally gave in to the urge to trace the contours of his face.

Astarion’s eyes fluttered open, immediately seeking hers. A lazy smirk tugged at his lips as he lifted a hand to caress her cheek in turn, the warmth of the Ring of Daylight around his fourth finger a delicious contrast to his cool skin.

“Looking for a cuddle?” he asked, his tone playful yet tender, echoing their first morning together.

Tav laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “Always,” she replied, her heart swelling with love for this man who had come so far, who had learned to trust and to love despite everything he’d endured.

Their fingers intertwined with the comforting sound of his ring meeting hers. Warmed by the golden light forevermore.

#astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #Astarion smut #Astarion fluf #tav #astarion x reader #bg3 fic #astarion ancunin #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader fluff #astarion x female reader

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werecreature-addicted · 3 months

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Do you remember your writings about a minotaur and a farmer girl? Well, how about this, one night there is a party in the small town, you know, and that day both humans and monsters attend, it is a day when everyone can have fun and relax, humans, werewolves, half-snake creatures, orcs, minotaurs, etc, anyway, in the town the minotaur realizes that the girl he lives with is somewhat "popular" among some humans and monsters, since it shows that some have an interest in her, you know, they are in love with her, and well this is something that makes our minotaur jealous 🤭

part one, two, three. and for those who didn't see the Minotaur's name is Sam now.

Sam looks up at the dazzling lights that flit through the night sky. Fireflies glow in the dark like stars. Children run around with glass jars trying to catch the small insects. There's so much noise, it's a little overwhelming, children shrieking in delight, groups of people talking loudly, and a little further down a band was playing.

You reach out and squeeze his hand, reminding him that he isn't alone.

"It's pretty, isn't it? I'm so glad you decided to come to the solstice festival with me," you say smiling. It is a beautiful summer night, and having you with him makes it all the better. he can't help but think that you're pretty tonight too.

"You've been begging me for weeks to come with you, I couldn't say no," he murmurs. it wasn't quite true, you'd just been hinting over and over again that he should come out with you tonight. You laugh and squeeze his hand again before letting go completely, and he fights the urge to pull your hand back in his and cling to you a little longer. Sam craves your touch more than he should, your hands are warm, and small in his, and they make him feel at ease in a place like this, surrounded by noisy strangers. Even though he's out of his element, he is glad he came, he feels better knowing he can keep an eye on you, and keep you safe, should the need arise.

You'd promised him other nonhumans would be there tonight, and you'd spoken the truth. everywhere you looked there were werewolves, nagas, and some paler humans he could only assume were vampires, Still, he felt like he stood out, he was a good foot taller than anyone else here, and he did notice the nervous glances he was getting. He gets it. he's big and scary, covered in scars, and has a broken horn.

The people of the town surprise him. many people came up to him and started a conversation, even though they were clearly nervous. He hated it. And he hated that he hated it. He still wasn't good at talking to anyone who wasn't you, just because you're nice and treat him with respect doesn't mean All humans are like that, he knows all too well just how cruel most of your kind can be.

That being said, most people coming up to him weren't actually there for him but for you. He knew you were lovely, kind, charming, and attractive, but he's a little surprised that so many others thought the same. It seemed like half the town wanted to catch up, buy you a drink, take you for a dance. humans and monsters alike.

He feels the jealousy spike, he wants to hoard your attention, and selfishly keep you all to himself. The two of you were basically alone on the farm, he'd almost forgotten what it was like to have to share your attention. and it's not a welcome change. Luckily for him, you don't seem eager to leave his side. You politely turn down the handsome werewolf who asked you for a dance. You seem perfectly committed to staying by his side this whole night, just like you promised you would. there are no words for how grateful he is that that's true.

"I don't know how to dance," he admits softly as the werewolf walks away.

"What?" you ask, not following his train of thought.

"I mean. if you want to dance tonight, that's not something you can do with me," he explains, his mood darkening as he thinks about the things you couldn't do with him that you could with a more normal man. He thinks about all the people who've talked to you tonight, any one of them would make a better more stable partner than him. He feels guilty for wanting you, especially when he considers how much he doesn't deserve you.

"No one was born knowing how to dance, Sam, it's a skill, you practice and you learn. If you want I can teach you," you offer. Sam felt the blood drain from his face, He'd fought countless bloody fights and none of that was as terrifying as the idea of trying to learn to dance in front of such a large crowd. You laugh lightly seeing the look on his face,

"At home, I'll teach you when we're alone, besides this-" you gesture to the band playing "-isn't really my style, I'll figure something better for us to dance to," you assure him, and he relaxes. Dancing, alone with you, at home. your shared home. it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Love is not a word that he never uses ever, and he rarely even allows himself to think it, but he's not sure how much longer he can keep the words inside. He's sure that if you really do teach him to dance that will be his breaking point, or maybe he wouldn't say "I love you" but he might just kiss you deeply instead. Then again, maybe he should, if you were officially his it might keep some of the other men in town away from you. He wouldn't mind that at all.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #minotaur x reader #minotaur boyfriend #minotaur

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bump1nthen1ght · 8 months

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A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 3 (Bukkake)

Kink: Bukkake

Pairing: Male!Orcs x Fem!Reader

Other kinks: Gang Bang, Spit Roasting

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1197 words

Kinktober Masterlist

If someone had told you this morning that your night shift at the tavern would end with you in the bedroom of a traveling adventurer, you wouldn’t have believed them.

If they had told you it would end with you in the bedroom of several adventurers, you would’ve thought they were insulting you.

If they had told you 're relatively boring tavern shift in your fairly boring town would end with you in a bed, surrounded on all sides by sexy orc adventurers, you would’ve slapped them atop the head and told them to stop reading so many dirty novels.

And yet-

“Fuck, you’ve got a good mouth on you, barkeep.” The orc, who you think is named Thrak, mutters.

“A good pussy too. Nice and tight.” The orc behind you, Parod, gives a hard slap to your ass. It makes your throat clench with a whine, something Thrak clearly appreciates. He runs his hand down the side of your cheek, giving you sweet caresses that don’t match his hurried thrusts, his balls smacking against your chin.

“Plus, look at that ass. I could watch that ass walking around this bar all day.”

The bard, Kog, slaps your ass too, his other hand still preoccupied with playing with your clit. Despite already spending himself in your ass his cock is rock hard. His musicians training must come in handy, as he easily navigates circling your clit and stroking himself at the same time.

“Maybe we should take you along with us, darling.” Sitting in the big chair nearby, fat cock in his scarred hands, remarks Hagu, the band's leader. You remember his name the best, despite a brain addled after orgasm and orgasm. He had made you scream it, over and over, when he bent you in half in a mating press to start this whole night off. “Become our personal cum dump.” Hagu stands up, erection bobbing against his stomach as he walks to you. He runs his knuckles along your sweaty face, not even perturbed by his bandmate’s cock thrusting in and out of your mouth. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

When you first approached the band to ask for their drink order, you’d have never guessed Hagu had such a filthy mouth. He seemed the perfect, stone-serious leader for the raucous group, left in charge of the coin and easily silencing the boys if they got too rowdy. With his deep voice, that tantalizing half broken tusk and scar across his lips, he seemed the perfect brooding stranger. Even before they had propositioned you for a night in their room, you had considered hopping into Hagu’s bed.

Not that the rest of the boys weren’t gorgeous. Kog was the smallest, with a smile built for charming and long piano fingers. Thrak and Parod made a perfect duo, one barbarian and one rogue, bouncing off each other’s laughter and sly comments with ease. If they hadn’t seemed to love adventuring as much as they did, you’d think they’d thrive as a traveling troupe. Everyone would swoon.

Not to mention their giant cocks. That helps too.

“Still breathing, sweetheart?” Thrak half-jokes, patting your cheek when your eyes roll back. You give an unsteady thumbs up, moaning again as Parod pummels your g-spot. You’d think two cocks would have been enough to stretch you out, but Parod is girthy, and the pleasure burns.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Hagu says, rubbing the back of your neck. “Do you love all these dicks ruining you? Don’t you just want to forget about all those silly responsibilities, and just live as our cum slut?” Your addled mind, half wondering if he really means the offer, nods enthusiastically. It gets you a congratulatory pat on the ass, though at this point you can’t tell from who. “That’s a good girl.”

Just those words are enough to send goosebumps down your arms, an urge to prove him right making you throw your hips back and to slather your tongue all around Thrak’s dick. Nails dig into your hips and shoulders, Parod’s grunts humps stumbling just a bit.

“F-fuck, I’m close.”

“Me too.” Thrak pants, squeezing your cheeks. “Where do you want it, pretty girl?”

“Her face, she wants it on her face.” Hagu commands, languidly stroking his cock. “She wants us all on her face, don’t you?”

Thraks pulls his cock out your mouth, drool dripping down your lips as Hagu grabs your chin again. The emptiness burns as Parod slips out of your pussy, resting his pulsing cock on your ass cheeks.

“Well?” Hagu squeezes your jaw, a slight tinge of pain as he yanks you to look up at him. His cock blocks your view, veins pulsing up his shaft. The other boys are uncharacterisitcally silent, all deferring to their leader's commands.

“Yes, c- cum on my face, please!” Your voice keens, whiny and desperate. Once again you think back to the beginning of your shift and how vastly different you thought this night would go.

“You heard her, boys. Pretty girls who ask nicely-” Hagu tugs on his shaft, moaning in between words, “-get what they want.”

It’s a cacophony of breathes, groans, and the slapping of skin as you're surrounded by 4 orcs, tips leaking with pre cum as they furiously jerk off. Your battered pussy, still a bit sore from being stretched open, grows slick nonetheless. The anticipation is killing you, licking your lips as your stomach grows taut.

Hagu, always the leader, starts everyone off.

“S-shit.” He growls, hands twitching as he aims his cock right at your open mouth. A hot stream of cum shoots across your lips, more and more spurts following to coat your tongue. The other boys are quick to follow, falling in and unloading all over your face. Thrak and Parod aim for your cheeks, giving the courtesy of avoiding your eyes. Kog is a little less controlled, whiny moans leading him to shoot his cum all over, some even reaching your forehead as his cock spasms.

All in all, it's just 15 seconds of pure bliss, hot cum warming your skin. The salt of sweat and semen has your mouth watering. You’re happy you had the wherewithal to tie your hair up when you guys started, or else it’d be coated by now.

Thrak and Parod collapse into the big comfy chair behind them, while Kog sinks into the bed beside you. Their green chests heave, skin dark with a furious blush as they all catch their breath. Even Hagu, ever composed, seems to take a moment. He wipes a palmful of sweat off his brow, before brushing a thumb across your face.

“Let's get you cleaned up, beautiful.”

Hagu easily sweeps you off the bed and into a bridal carry, leading you over to the small bathroom afforded to tavern rooms. The other boys, still in a post-nut haze, follow their leader anyway. Kog gathers up your strewn about clothes from the floor, making sure to keep them away from his sweaty skin.

What a way to end the night.

#my writing #kinktober 2023 #reader insert #monster romance #female reader insert #kinktober

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thatfanficstuff · 2 months

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Color My World - Haldir (LOTR)

Pairing: Haldir x soulmate!reader

warnings: nothing beyond canon

The forest of Lothlorien loomed before a weary band of travelers, known to some as the Fellowship. Their steps were heavy with exhaustion, a mantle of grief weighing them down. Their companion, the wizard Gandalf, had fallen mere hours before. But they didn’t have time to stop, to allow their hearts a moment to heal. The orcs would come and the group needed to be safely within the depths of the forest before they did.

You walked beside Frodo in the middle of the group, your eyes darting between taking in the beauty around you and keeping an eye on your companions. Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy above you, bathing the world in golden rays. Even the bark of the trees glittered faintly with hints of gold. You could only imagine how stunning it would be if you had already met your soulmate. All the muted, faded colors you saw would be bright and vivid. You never wished for it more than at moments like this.

“Can you feel the trees watching us?” Frodo’s voice, barely above a murmur, broke the fragile silence.

You placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “There have been eyes on us since we stepped foot in the forest, little hobbit.”

He looked up in surprise and you squeezed gently as you gave him a soft smile. “No worries. All be fine.”

“Thank you for being here,” he said, his tone hovering between gratitude and fear.

“We all have our purposes in this life, Frodo Baggins. Mine is make sure you complete yours.”

As you continued, you ignored Gimli’s talk of elven sorceresses and enchantments. You were too focused on the force gathering along the edges of your senses. The elves had sent a welcoming party. Of a sort.

Suddenly and almost silently, the Fellowship was surrounded. Elves with arrows drawn in you and your companions faces. With an arched brow you stepped in front of Frodo and pushed the arrow aside that was nearly brushing your nose. Ridiculous. Arrows did much more damage if they had a little room to move.

“The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark,” a rich voice said as the most beautiful man you’d ever seen addressed Aragorn. The elf observed your group, taking each of you in. When his gaze met your own, he lingered ever so slightly before turning back to the king. “Why do you enter the woods of the Lady of Light?”

The quiet words stoked something deep inside you, a yearning that had followed you your whole life. A cascade of vibrant color burst forth with the marchwarden at its center. Greens deepened into a multitude of shades. The golden undertones of the trees shimmered with new life.

As he and Aragorn spoke, every syllable from his lips only brought more beauty to your world. And every word bound your soul more tightly to his. You wove your fingers together, a poor effort at self-restraint as you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze from his profile. You’d heard so many stories of this elf and now, seeing him in person, he was everything you could ever desire in a mate. And he was far too important for someone like you. Finally, you tore your eyes away as he turned to lead the Fellowship deeper into the trees.

You weren’t certain how far you walked or how many stairs you climbed before you were greeted by the ethereal presence of Celeborn and Galadriel. You half listened to the conversation about the fate of your wizard as your attention kept flicking over to Haldir who stood to the side looking straight ahead. It felt odd that you were so connected to him and he didn’t even know you existed. That he knew nothing of your bond. It was for the best, you knew that, but it didn’t make your heart hurt any less.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned your head to find Galadriel looking at you though she spoke to the Fellowship as a whole. You bit back a gasp as you heard her lyrical voice in your head. “Within these woods, bonds deeper than the roots of the mallorn trees are forged. You have felt the stirring of such a bond, child of the outside world. Your connection with Haldir is stronger than you know. An intertwining of souls, a sharing of strengths. Together, you harbor magic that will aid you on your quest.”

“Magic?” you thought back.

Rather than answering, the corner of her lips curled into a knowing smile and she gave you a small nod. “When you need it the most, it will be there,” she said aloud. Your companions frowned in confusion but you ignored their questions as Haldir showed all of you to where you would be spending the evening.

You managed to leave the elves without Haldir finding out who you were to him. Your friends found it odd that you refused to speak louder than a whisper until you were well on your way down the river but you simply waved off their questions. It was better this way. No matter how utterly alone you suddenly felt.

Days turned into weeks. Frodo and Sam had gone off on their own. Boromir had fallen. Gandalf had returned. And now you stood with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli at Helm’s Deep alongside an army made up mostly of old men and boys. Hope was fleeting that most of you would make it through the night. Gandalf had told you to look for him at the dawn but that was many hours away.

You stood on the wall watching a storm roll in while the others prepared themselves for battle. You’d taken care of that hours ago. A horn blasting drew your attention. Elven archers marched toward the keep. You grinned, feeling hope for the first time in days. The smile fell as you saw who was leading them. Haldir. He wasn’t supposed to be here. It was too dangerous. He was supposed to be safe in Lothlorien.

You watched Aragorn greet him, Legolas by his side. Haldir glanced up when they finished, his gaze finding yours. He studied your face for a moment before nodding a greeting. You nodded in return then slipped away into the crowd, making sure the rabble were as prepared as possible for the coming attack.

While Aragorn moved through the ranks of elves on the wall, you stood with Legolas and Gimli. The hordes of orcs and Uruk-hai approached, banging weapons on the ground as they came. You rested a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder trying to calm him as he bounced around. “Steady on,” you told him as you prepared your bow.

And then they came in a flood of anger and teeth. Chaos reigned around you as you slashed and dodged. Rain fell in heavy drops as lightning flashed in the sky and thunder roared. You focused solely on the opponents around you until King Theoden called for a retreat to the inner walls. Aragorn grabbed your arm and pulled you along as he yelled for the men to fall back. When he turned and yelled Haldir’s name, you turned with him.

Haldir acknowledged the order a breath before he was surrounded by iron and hate. A blade stabbed toward him even as he cut the wielder down.

Heat surged through your veins as fear swamped you. You unleashed your fury with a cry torn from the very depths of your soul. The world seemed to slow as a shimmering shield surrounded your soulmate, deflecting the blade that would have run him through. His eyes found yours, wide with astonishment.

You ignored Aragorn calling your name as newfound strength flowed through you. You weaved through the melee, each step bringing you closer to Haldir’s side. Finally, you reached him and helped dispatch the orcs that swarmed him. When there was an opening for you to move, you grabbed the breastplate of his armor and pulled him toward the stairs. “Move, Marchwarden.”

The battle was over after a last minute save from the Rohirrim and the Ents. As soon as you had a moment to breathe a breath you weren’t convinced would be your last, Haldir grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side where you could have some semblance of privacy.

His hands cradled your face as his thumbs traced your cheeks. He looked you over with wonder.

“Why did you say nothing when first we met?” he asked. “Why keep your connection to me hidden?”

You grasped his wrists in your hands. “If the bond was complete, formed on both sides, what would happen to you if I died on this quest?”

The silence stretched as he studied you. “A partial truth at best, hiril vuin.” (my lady)

You sighed and looked away from him, unable to meet his eye as you confessed. “I did not wish to be a burden upon you. I feared the revelation would be a disappointment.”

He ran his thumbs along your skin again to bring your attention back to him. “You are the furthest cry from a disappointment. Your courage, your strength, your heart…they are gifts more precious than the rarest jewels of my people.”

You searched for any signs of deception from him. Finding none, a smile crossed your face. He mirrored it before leaning forward to press his lips to yours. It took only a moment before you returned the gesture with equal fervor.

For a moment, you could forget about your quest. Forget about the death that surrounded you. Because here in the midst of so many endings, was your beginning and you intended to hold onto it with all of your heart.

#haldir x reader #haldir fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #haldir x soulmate #lotr soulmate au #soulmate au

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hijackalx · 4 months

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PARTY OF TWO +18

SUMMARY: You and Gale are looking for a reason to ditch your friends at the tavern— why not make that reason each other?

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, thigh-riding, praise kink, p in v, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, bondage (mage hand), multiple orgasms, love hotel, somewhat switch-y gale

The bustling tavern is filled with the sounds of drunken chatter and the occasional song. You sympathize with the bartender, who struggles to keep up with the demands of slurring customers. You think they wouldn't need so many refills if half of their drinks didn't end up on the floor.

You glance around from your seat at the bar, gaze hopping through patrons. Karlach is on her ninth pint, Wyll captivates a crowd with a far-fetched tale, and Astarion has found a pretty, young thing to entertain himself with. They all carry smiles on their faces and rosy cheeks, something you haven't had the pleasure of seeing in quite some time.

You're glad your friends seem to be enjoying themselves— you know how badly they've been needing to. Their plates have been full recently, so it's nice to be able to settle down for some fun.

As for yourself... well, let's just say you were outvoted when it came to agreeing on what "fun" was. This place is a little chaotic for your tastes, and not to mention tart from all the dwarf sweat and beer. You try not to cringe at how every surface is sticky and how every song that's sung is just slightly off-key.

Amidst your grumbling, a familiar figure takes the open spot beside you, and by the look on his face, you realize you're not the only one who's fighting the urge to be a spoilsport.

Gale— the ambitious wizard from Waterdeep. You two don't speak much, meaning you've yet to break the barrier of "acquaintance". You've never really sat down with him for more than small talk, not even at camp. You will admit though, from what you've picked up about him through eavesdropping has left you somewhat curious.

You think now might be a good time to finally get to know each other better. Besides, it doesn't appear that anyone else is willing to bond over your distaste for such lively establishments.

Your gaze flickers his way, confident and gregarious. Although, the ice-breaker on your tongue melts away once you notice that he's already looking in your direction. There's a slight raise to one of his brows and a tug at the corner of his mouth.

"... Gale—!" You needlessly announce his presence before your voice dies out.

You're not sure what it is, but for some reason, you seem to have forgotten how to speak. Your mouth hangs slack, and your throat is too tight for any words to escape. Maybe his staring caught you off guard— or maybe you'd forgotten just how attractive he is until now.

He sends you a small, perturbed smile, and you instantly feel the responsibility to cease the silence between you. "Sorry," you apologize for your offbeat behavior, then make a gesture to the glass in front of you. "Guess that's a sign to slow down, isn't it?"

It's unclear whether he's laughing at you or with you when he replies, "One too many?"

Your attention gravitates toward his fingers wrapping around his glass, then shifts to the liquid inside as it meets his lips. The sip is quick before he finds your eyes again.

You hope your ogling is averted fast enough to remain inconspicuous. "Not enough to make being here worthwhile," you respond flatly.

He hums in agreement, bouncing his brows up once. "I'm not too keen on taverns myself."

You both watch as Karlach engages in an arm wrestling match with a half-orc man across the room, the audience surrounding them getting rowdier by the minute.

He turns back to you with a smile and a shrug. "I'm more fitted for gatherings of a lesser degree." He pauses, appearing thoughtful before adding, "A bit of one-on-one, if you will."

His last sentence piques your interest, and you scan him inquisitively to figure out if it means what you think it does. There's an air of playfulness to him as you meet his gaze once more, an inviting glimmer in the shadow of his brow.

It doesn't take a genius to know that was an attempt at flirting with you, and if you have any sense, you'll see where this can take you; it's not everyday you get to romp with a man who's allegedly bedded a goddess.

You feign coyness by taking a sip from your glass. "It seems we're both outliers in that respect," you say to him over the chanting invading the building— from it, you conclude the consensus is that Karlach will win the match.

"Observant," he remarks, leaning in your direction. There's a look of confidence on his face that is wholly endearing, not to mention flattering. "I know of a much better place for it. I was thinking about heading there now, actually."

Your brow cocks upward as if the proposition on his mind is hidden from you. "Oh?" you hum, your fingernails tapping at your glass absentmindedly. "... Are you meeting someone?" You ensure that your voice is sweet, yet harboring a hint of longing behind it.

"I suppose it's fortunate I'm not, since I was hoping I wouldn't have to go alone."

You return the grin he gives you, knowing and affirming. A buzz of anticipation blooms in your chest when he places a palm on your knee, beckoning an explosion of heat to the skin beneath it.

Drifting closer, he speaks as if only for the two of you to hear, "you wouldn't mind accompanying an old wizard, would you?" His words are like honey by your ear, smooth and tempting. It sends the slightest shiver down your spine.

He pulls away just enough to meet your eyes, watching, waiting. You pretend to think on it, but he doesn't appear to fall for it for a second. "Hmm... that doesn't seem like it'd be too out of my way."

The hand on your knee flexes into a squeeze, a pleased twinkle in his eye. "Lovely."

You sneak out the door together, allowing him to place a guiding hand at the small of your back. The touch is that of a gentleman's, yet you feel the slightest tremor bubbling its way to the surface now and then.

The tension only rises between you with teasing exchanges. After some playful coaxing, he admits how he'd had his eye on you since the night began— how long he'd been waiting to get you alone.

"What were you waiting for?" You question, intrigued. It's not like anyone was stopping him.

"Approaching someone as sightly as yourself takes the courage of a lion.” He shoots you a flirtatious grin, his stare shameless and unwavering. “As you can imagine, that’s not an easy amount to muster.”

"Courage?" You repeat with a laugh. He's taken aback when you impede his path, a scheming tug to your lips. You study him a moment before raising your hand to his cheek, tilting your head slightly.

With a half-lidded gaze, you follow your fingers as they begin to trace over his bearded jaw. "Do I make you nervous, Gale?" You smile ever so sweetly. Your fingertips travel from his jaw to his lips, just barely touching the soft skin; you feel his warm, uneven exhales against them.

As you slowly bring your mouth to meet his, he seems almost frozen. Though, just as your lips graze, he places a hand at the back of your neck and closes the distance himself.

The kiss is hungry— impatient. His palms slide down to your hips, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body meshes with yours, and the exchanging of your breaths is visible in the cool, night air. You seem to get lost in the embrace, forgetting that you're still on the street; as a result, the hand you have resting on his chest slithers down his torso, a finger slipping into his waistband.

He makes a humming noise and reluctantly pulls away, his grip securing around your wrist to steady it. "Let's not get too eager," he chuckles, though you can tell his arousal is getting the better of him. "We've almost reached our destination— wouldn't want to spoil the fun, now would we?"

You giggle a little bit at the implication of 'spoiling the fun', then allow him to link his arm with yours as you continue onward, your pulse still thrumming with adrenaline. "Will you tell me where we're going?" You nudge him, wondering just what his clever mind has in store for you.

"It's better as a surprise, if that's alright with you."

A surprise, you note, sporting a subtle expression of delight. If you're being honest, your first impression of Gale left much to be desired— you thought he was, for a lack of a better word, simple. But this night has proven you wrong so far, and you hope it'll continue to go that way.

And, much to your amusement, it does.

You stand outside of a two-story building, the cobblestone exterior lit with the flames of lanterns hanging from the balcony. Also placed in distance of the light is a sign that you recognize.

He didn't just take you to any old inn, but an inn specifically for lovers.

While walking to the room he purchased at the desk, he turns to look down at you on the stairs. "So? What do you think?" He says, a lilt to his tone that exposes how pleased he is with himself.

"Would it surprise you if I said I've never stayed here before?"

"You're joking!" His face contorts in an almost scandalized fashion, searching you for any signs of jest. "Well, I guess I'll have to be the one to help you get familiar then." He sends a reassuring wink in your direction, then continues to lead you down the second-floor hallway.

Upon reaching your room, he holds the door open for you, placing a palm on your lower back to direct you in. You're stunned as you enter; the decor is like nothing you've ever seen before— from the circular bed draped with curtains, the luxurious bath, and the decorated mirror anchored to the ceiling.

"This is..." your voice trails off, truly at a loss for words. After hearing the door shut and lock, a presence approaches you from behind. Promptly, you feel the gentle ghosting of lips on your neck.

You inhale sharply as his breath leaves goosebumps on your skin. Hands resting on your waist, he holds you in place as he leaves the softest, teasing kiss behind.

"I know this is ill-mannered of me..." he starts, his voice suddenly deep and gravelly by your ear. "But I cannot wait any longer. Please."

The subtle desperation in his tone makes you shiver. Your lips part as he begins to run his hands up your body, traveling their way along your torso. You let out a small whimper at how his large, calloused palms feel through the thin material of your dress, how warm and inviting they are— how you wish for them to touch your bare body instead.

"Is this still what you want?" The short hairs on his jaw brush your skin as he speaks, breaths hastening as if he's raring for the green light.

You're almost too distracted by how his fingers restlessly bunch up the fabric just below your chest to answer. "Y-yes." You place your hands over his, moving them up. They finally engulf your breasts, his thumbs running over the hardened nipples begging to be freed.

"Yes, what?"

You turn your head slightly to peer at him over your shoulder. "I want you to fuck me." A warmth surges through your cheeks as the sentence leaves your mouth, the vulgarity of it both humiliating and exciting.

He's been anticipating hearing those words all night— keyed up like a dog waiting to be thrown a bone. He places a palm on your jaw and angles you to kiss him; it's reminiscent of the one on the street, but this time he doesn't hold back. It's raw and unrestrained, his tongue meeting yours and his teeth tugging on your bottom lip.

He pulls away to direct your figure to the wall. The material is cold on your cheek as he pins you against it, caging you between his arms. Aching for his touch, you arch your back to press your ass into him. He shamelessly rubs his hard-on against you for friction, letting out a broken moan by your ear and causing your thighs to squeeze together.

His hand snakes beneath the hem of your dress, seeking the pulsing heat between your legs. You widen your stance to give him better access, jaw falling slack as he locates your needy clit through your panties. You grind into his fingertip, impatient with how he toys with you— he picks up a rhythm only to break it, then repeats.

You let out a sound of frustration, and his solution is to stick his thigh between the two of yours.

You quickly pick up on what he's suggesting. “Gale," you say testily, unamused with his games. You'd much rather he'd just fuck you already.

"I want to watch," his voice comes out pleadingly and defensive. He lets out a shuddering breath before he licks his lip and mutters, "please, just… humor me."

The neediness in his tone raises goosebumps on your skin. You throb in response, a new wave of heat gathering to your cunt. You've never considered such an act, but he's convinced you with just a simple sentence. Lowering your weight onto him, you feel how the slick clinging to your folds smears into your undergarment, leaking through to paint your inner thighs.

He groans as he watches you use his thigh to get off, his cock twitching at how you whimper when he flexes the muscle. One hand leaves the wall to settle on your hip, and he uses it to guide you in slow, circular motions, causing your eyes to flutter shut.

His hips buck once he sees the pleasure on your features, a shaky moan leaving his throat. "You look so beautiful like this," he says through ragged breaths of arousal, watching how your brows knead together and your lips separate. "Keep going."

You feel a knot form in your lower stomach as he begins to bounce his knee, sending vibrations to your clit. His tempo is steady and relentless, eliciting a familiar, overwhelming sensation that courses through your veins. "G-gale," you say in a panic, "I can't. I'm going to— I can't—!" You fight off your orgasm with everything you've got, trying not to succumb to the waves of pleasure he sends through you.

You squirm in his grasp, but he keeps you in place. "It's okay, you're okay," he assures you, though he sounds like he's lingering on the edge himself. As if his words are a cue, your eyes squeeze shut and you finish on his thigh. Flashes of white dance behind your eyelids as you moan his name, your body jerking as it tenses repeatedly.

"S-shit," he stutters, biting his lip at how you move against his cock. He seems to hold his breath until you're done, letting out a heavy sigh of relief after he's succeeded in not coming prematurely as well.

He grips your shoulder with one hand, his thumb moving in circles over your skin as you recollect yourself. You attempt to turn around after a moment, yet you find that the buzzing in your legs makes for difficult use.

"Need a lift?" He laughs a bit.

You nod at him, putting your arms around his neck. With his palms settling just below your ass, he lifts you in one swift motion, carrying you in the direction of the bed.

Just as he begins to lay you down, he kisses you again— slow and seductive this time, but somehow hungrier. Your back gently meets the mattress, the fluffy duvet moulding around your shape and encasing you like a cloud. Your mouths begrudgingly disconnect, and as you open your eyes, you're taken aback by the reflection of yourself behind his head.

He notices your surprise, though the way he's looking you up and down says he has more important things on his mind. His gaze is heavy and almost daydreamy as he speaks, "I wanted you to be able to see yourself." He sits up to remove his shirt, tossing it aside before reaching for the zipper of your dress. "I wanted you to see how gorgeous you look while I fuck you."

You arch your back to assist him in removing the garment, watching as he pulls it to the ends of your feet. All your body is exposed except for your cunt, which he seems to be saving for last.

You finally feel his touch on your skin, placing your hands over his as they make a map of your figure. You guide him to your tits, rolling your head back into the pillow as he begins to knead them. His eagerness elicits a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain, the pressure just enough to satiate you.

Your fingers card through his hair as he places sloppy, wet kisses on your neck. The strands fall haphazardly over his features as you knock them from their place. When he sits up, you note how much this look suits him— messy hair, pink lips, and a heaving chest.

Disrupting your ogling, your eyes glance down at the bulge in his pants. You let out an impatient whine, reaching for it. As your fingertips graze the material of his clothes, your wrists are promptly snatched and restrained to the bed.

It all happens so fast, you don't quite realize how he's got you pinned despite both of his hands resting on his thighs in front of you. With furrowed brows, your gaze flits up above your head; a blue, transparent hand holds your wrists down, limbless and airborne. You almost feel silly for not assuming a wizard would use magic— even at a time like this.

"Clever," you cock an eyebrow, sending him a playful grin.

If his face wasn't already flushed, it definitely is now. He seems to get a bit flustered by the praise, smiling back somewhat awkwardly. "I occasionally like to think so."

With that, he begins kissing down towards your navel, his palms running along the sides of your body as he does so. He uses a light, teasing touch, making your skin react with sensitivity. You writhe in the Mage Hand's grasp, at which he peeks upward with a prideful pull to the corner of his mouth.

Once he reaches just above your underwear, he lifts his head, resulting in your body yearning for the return of his warm breaths. His fingers slip beneath the elastic covering each hip, delicately and smoothly removing the article from your figure. His gaze is fixated on your cunt— how it glistens under the lantern light from the bedside table.

He groans involuntarily at the sight, dipping one of his fingers into your contracting hole. It slides in effortlessly, though your walls squeeze around him in excitement. "Oh, Gods..." he mutters to himself, adding a second finger. It fits snugly, and he separates them inside of you to test how tight you are.

You whine, need prevalent in your tone. "Gale—" you choke back a moan as he begins pumping in and out of you. His pace is slow and agonizing, brushing against your G-spot but lacking the right vigor. He seems to be too deep in his admiration, merely doing it for his own enjoyment. "Gale—" in a show of desperation and faltering patience, you use your feet to buck your hips off the bed. "—I need you. Now."

Your plea snaps him out of his trance. He stops altogether, instead becoming awestruck at the sight of your body teeming with desire as it tugs against its restraint. You pout when he removes his fingers, watching as he pops them into his mouth to clean them. His brows come together as he savors the taste, though he doesn't linger on it for long as he quickly begins fumbling with the waistband of his pants.

He pulls the material from his hips, slinging both that and his underwear to the floor. You watch with blown pupils as his cock springs free, wishing you could run your fingertips down the happy trail on his stomach all the way to his shaft.

Holding your stare, he uses his hand to give himself a few pumps, smearing the excess of precum over his sensitive head. His body jolts slightly from the sensitivity, a small moan bubbling up his throat.

With that, he lowers himself on top of you, and you readily spread your legs for him. His tip finally breaches your entrance, and you let out a sound of relief into his mouth as he kisses you. He starts out slow, but you're not sure if it's for your sake or his. A sharp breath is sucked through his teeth as he fully sheathes himself into your warmth, reveling in how your cunt tries to draw him in further.

"You're not making this easy, are you?" His words come out strained by your ear.

You laugh breathily in response. "Maybe that'll teach you not to be such a tease next time."

With a groan, he begins to move. The bed creaks under every thrust he makes, sending ripple after ripple of pleasure to your core. Lewd noises fill the room as he repeatedly delves into your wet hole, the squelching building with his rhythm. Your legs wrap around his back, trying with all your strength to pull him closer, closer, until you finally feel his base hit your opening.

His head moves to nuzzle against your shoulder, and the reflection of your entangled bodies on the ceiling is made visible to you. You watch his back flex with every movement, noting how he completely loses himself between your legs; every now and then you'll see the tendons in his hands bulge as he grips the sheets, or how he kisses your collarbone to cover up a moan.

In your infatuation, you remember him mentioning the mirror being there for you to watch yourself, not him. Your eyes flit back to your face, almost surprised by who's staring back at you— stray hairs decorate your features, your brows are kneaded together in ecstasy, and your puffy, swollen lips are parted to accommodate your ragged panting— you’ve never seen yourself look so out of sorts. In fact, something about it turns you on more.

Just look at what he's done to you, how he's made you unravel for him. He has you restrained to the bed like you're his whore, and you don't even fight it. He begins to fuck you faster, harder, chasing an orgasm, all the while you lie there and let him have his way with you.

The coils in the bed groan as he pounds into you, his grunts continuously more audible than the last. The muscles in his arms tense repeatedly, riddling his limbs with ridges of definition. His rhythm begins to stutter, the motion of his hips getting sloppy with need; there's a desperation to him that tells you he's close.

You arch your lower back so that each of his needy thrusts hits your G-spot, forcing a loud moan from your chest. The persistent stimulation has your core tightening and a pit forming in your stomach as you anticipate your high. You take in a few shallow breaths before throwing your head back, your second orgasm violently ripping through you. Your body squirms uncontrollably beneath him, digging your nails into your palms.

He has a front row seat to your symphony of pleasure, each mewl like heaven to his ears. "I love the sounds you make," he praises, wishing he had the blessing of hearing you like this more often.

As if hoping to draw out his climax now, your velvety walls spasm and tighten around him, pulling moan after moan from his lips. "I want you to cum," you whimper against his ear, your voice shaky from his relentless pace. "Cum for me. Please."

He falls apart under your coaxing. Letting out a choked sound of euphoria, he reluctantly pulls himself from you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of emptiness while he finishes onto your stomach, watching how he throws his head back and bucks his hips with each spurt of cum.

Layers of warm seed spread across your heaving abdomen. The magic binding your hands almost immediately breaks, turning into a cloud of blue that fizzles into nothing. Your aching wrists fall haphazardly to your sides, too exhausted from remaining in that position to move again.

After a moment of recuperation, he stumbles to his feet, grabbing a towel by the bath before soaking it with the warm water inside. When he returns, he sits on the side of the bed, gently and delicately wiping up the mess he'd left on you.

He looks so focused while he cleans, making sure the rag doesn't leave anything behind. You can't help fawning at his concentration, a soft smile finding its way onto your face. He glances up once before doing a double take, not expecting to find you staring. He laughs, albeit a little awkwardly.

He then picks up your tired wrists and massages them, leaving a small peck on each. You assume that's his way of 'kissing it better'.

Once he's done, he leaves the cloth in a damp wad on the nightstand. Flopping onto the bed with a hand supporting his head, he turns to look at you. "So… shall we do it in the bath next?"

#sorry this ended up shorter than i anticipated i had to cut some stuff out cuz it was taking too long to get to the suckin n fuckin #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale dekarios x tav #gale x reader #oneshot #x reader

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