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Black Out Days - NSFW Rugan Fic

Tags: NSFW 18+ only, oral, fem Tav, Dom Rugan, Rugan being an ass and unable to feel feelings, razor thin plot here, fast and loose with lore, PIV sex, general smut and way to much exposition (Im sorry - I wont judge if you just scan for the smut) 🫠

Words: 8000 (SORRY not sorry)

Read below or on A03 here ❤️

Months. Had it actually been months? No, it was just a few weeks, right? Tav wasn't really sure. She frowned, staring at the fire for a moment, goblet poised hallway to her mouth. Her companions sat around her, making idle conversation. She could ask; she was sure Gales record keeping was more diligent than hers but couldn't bring herself to bring up the words. No, she shook her head. It had been over a month, at least.

Time had seemed skewed recently as if the very fabric of realms has shifted. But that wasn't actually the case - she knew that much. It was their continuous arduous war they were fighting that skewed time. Tav felt battle weary in a way she never thought possible. In her very bones. Her very soul ached for the comfort of.... Of what? Mundanity? Normalcy? She couldn't even remember what life was like before this. Would there be anything to go back to? Anything other than this?

Every time she thought they had a handle on the situation, every glimmer of hope for a cure had only led them further and further into new realms of terrors. New foes to fight. New allies to try to help. It was never ending.

But now, finally, a last night in Rivington, a night away from entering the city. Baldurs Gate. Where for better or worse, their journey would be at an end. Baldurs Gate. Where so many weaving threads throughout their journey so far finally came together. How many people had they met along their path had told them to meet in Baldurs Gate? Bitterness crept up in her throat at that thought. Who would have made it? Who had been lost?

Baldurs Gate, where - a thought suddenly jolted back to her, snapping her out of her gloomy musings. A memory so soft among all the terrors she could almost convince herself she dreamed it; a memory of a sweaty passionate night stolen in a cave.

Rugan. She held onto the memory as long as she could like her own secret treasure. But the more perilous their journey got, the dimmer and more far away it felt. At the end of the day she would often fall directly into her bedroll, exhausted in her whole existence, terrified at what the next day would bring. No room for romantic fantasies. Even if she had the energy, it's not like she ever had the privacy to indulge herself in the memory; touch herself in a ghost of the way he had touched her.

But now, here on the cusp of a possible reunion she felt a shiver run down her spine. A little flower of hope blooming in her heart. Elfsong. She remembered that acutely. In another life she had spent many a night drinking there; had they ever seen each other? Would they have met before her life became a waking nightmare?

She tried to recall their fleeting awkward goodbye. The last lingering kiss shared before her party packed up and left. "Try not to die out there." He had said and it seemed there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. She stepped away and gave him a cool reassuring smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Months. That felt so long ago now it might have well have been years.

As quick as her heart felt the elation of hope at the memory, a crushing reminder of reality started to smash it back down. It had been months. Did he even make it back safely? If he did, would he even remember her? Even if he did, would he have moved on? They were one night, one single point in time among so many others. Maybe to him she was just another stop along his journey. Here she was acting like a moon-eyed girl when he might not even recall her.

But almost more painful, other than her questions about him, were her questions about herself. She felt eons apart from that silly girl in that cave. She even looked different; leaner, harsher maybe, battle hardened. A scar dragged down the edge of her cheek by her jaw from one of the ghouls below Moonrise. No healing seemed to be able to mend it fully. Gale offered to give her an enchantment that would hide it but she refused. She wore it proudly, sullenly - a harsh reminder to not get sloppy now.

She felt the metal cup slip from her hand as a tremor shook her at the reminder of that cursed place.

"Are you alright, darling?" Astarion’s lilting voice asked from beside her. She nodded absently and picked her cup up, leaving the fire without another word and heading back to her tent. Her thoughts swirled, again taking her from a sudden rush of hope and immediately pulling her back down to the dirt. The city would be the city. Where they had a mission to finish. She couldn’t let herself expect anything other than reality when she arrived. She wouldn’t allow herself to get distracted with disappointment now.

----

Business in the city had been unfortunately bloody and messy; between stopping assassinations, searching for ways to spoil the new Archdukes plans, and dealing with what seemed to be every single person in the whole lower city needing their help – not to even mention helping her ill-fated companions – the whole thing felt overwhelming, to say the least. They had one goal upon reaching Baldurs Gate; stop the absolute. And yet, everyone seemed to want a piece of them and they had been pulled in every other direction than the one they needed.

Tav’s head spun and her mood worsened with each passing day. Even without the help of the tadpole she felt like a vice was slowly tightening on her head and being turned ever tighter with each new morning.

As a result of their multitude of obligations; they decided to split up for this new day. She sent Lae’zel, Gale, Wyll, and Shadowheart off to find the last assassination target while Astarion, Karlach, and Jaheira would go to the Thieves Guild to gather information about this mythical ‘Stone Lord’. It seemed inconsequential to Tav at first what squabbles were occurring in the city, but Jaheira insisted and if this Stone Lord gang had anything to do with the cult, they had to use every opportunity to weaken their hold on the city.

Tav, for once, found herself hanging back from the expeditions. She expected resistance or arguments but it seemed her companions whole-heartedly agreed with her. She had pushed herself to the brink of exhaustion and back again. It was fair time she took her own deserved rest. As the others left for the day she went down to the bar again to try to grab a bite.

Despite her previous promise not to give herself false hope, she still found her head swiveling the first few days every time they entered or exited the Elfsong. But after a few nights at the bar she had given up hope of any sort of reunion, and she convinced herself it was for the best. Whether she liked it or not, she had a duty to fulfill and there was already too much going on. She didn’t need any further complications entering into it.

After a quick drink she went out, deciding on some fresh air. She had hoped a walk, with nowhere particular to rush to, would be a welcome change of paceafter their days upon days of marches. Letting her mind wander, she found that she was trying and failing not to dwell on anything in particular, and once again the rush and worry about all they had to do fogged up her head.

Without meaning to she found herself approaching the docks. The pungent smell of the Chionthar and strong odor of fish wafting up to assault her nostrils. Tav let out a frustrated sigh at the ineffectual walk and had just about decided to head back when a noise caught her ears. A commotion. A quick shout that was cut off sharply.

Her ever growing annoyance at the entire situationin the city and curiosity drove her to go investigate. Someone was pleading, almost on the verge of tears. She turned and headed down an alley to the right which eventually expanded into a larger path and back to the main street.

“Please! I don’t have the money! Please, I’ll have it soon just give me more time.” A man was saying as she drew closer. Tav turned the corner to see two large men in dark leathers pinning what looked to be a fisherman, a vendor most likely, against a building. A small basket of fish had been tossed on the ground beside them, its slimy contents splayed out among the cobblestones.

“You have the money or we have your fingers.” One thug growled at the cowering man, holding a hand up close to his face and wriggling his fingers at him. Tav hesitated, surveying the scene for a moment. Finally she sighed and stepped closer, making her presence known.

“Oy! What the fuck are you doing?” She called out at the thugs.

“Bugger off, lest we get to you next.” The taller man of the two grunted with a glance at her. Tav glanced around herself; the rest of the roadway was blissfully empty, aside from occasional distant noise of people passing on the street at the end.

“Let him go.” She said more sternly, trying to seem intimidating. She knew this was dumb. This was the last thing she needed – getting in fights with thugs in the middle of a shakedown. She should be resting. But something in her had changed. How many times had she seen this exact same scene play out and was forced to turn away? How many times had she participated in a similar scheme? No more. The last few months had left her feeling wild and reckless. She couldn’t save everyone, but she couldn’t just walk by and let this play out.

Her hand strayed to her sword hilt, to show she meant business. The thugs exchanged a look and dropped the fisherman who picked back up his basket and scampered away.

“Oh, did you want a piece instead missy?” One of them said as he turned, cracking his knuckles and drawing a knife from his belt. Tav couldn’t help but feel it looked comically tiny in the meaty hand. She smiled at the thought which drew a scowl from them both as they continued to approach.

They would have been easily dispatched. They should have. Low level thugs on a shakedown like this; it was child’s play. By the nine hells, Tav had fought a god; street thugs couldn’t take her out after that. But her mood and exhaustion had made her tired and sloppy. She forgot a key aspect of the shakedown like this. Two meatheads to do the dirty work and a scout on lookout to deal with any passerby's or do-gooders looking to act the hero.

The tables had certainly turned. A few desperate times, Tav had once been that exact scout and now found herself caught off guard with a knife to her throat; watching the two brutes continue to approach, their frowns both replaced with ugly smiles.

“You should’ve just walked away lass.” A voice hissed in her ear as a strong hand tightly gripped her wrist, halting her movement to her sword. Her pulse pounded, already thinking of how to weasel her way out of this. At least the grunts had stopped their approach, waiting for direction or for her to be dealt with.

“Let me go. I’ll make it worth-” She started, hoping a bargain might at least give her a chance to fight back and felt the grip on her wrist tighten.

“You came a long way from Waukeen’s Rest.” The scout whispered, quieter this time, his breath hot against her ear. Her heart beat heavy in her ears and she had to wonder if she heard correctly. Waukeen’s Rest? How… as her mind reeled she felt the knife almost imperceptibly ease away from her throat. She chanced a turn of her head to the side and saw what she assumed must have been a wild hallucination. Her tadpoled mind had finally snapped. Her exhaustion had taken its grip on her maybe. Or, maybe the man had slit her throat and this was her dying mind conjuring up her last happy memory to ease her passing.

But no. She blinked hard and his face remained. Rugan. Here. Holding a knife to her throat. That was certainly not how she had imagined their reunion going.

“Fight back.” He hissed again and gave her a nudge. She felt his grip loosen on her hand and caught a flash of his eyes as they darted to the thugs then back to her. Oh. Right. She felt dizzy but allowed her instincts to take over, safe – hopefully – in the assumption that he meant to help her and wouldn’t actually slit her throat.

She raised her knee up high and jammed her heel down onto his foot. As his grip released, and for good measure, she thrust her elbow back at the same time, catching him in the chest to shove him back. The knife clattered to the floor.

The thugs, slow on the uptake of the unspoken deal, descended back upon her and tried to flank her to get an advantage. She was ready this time; short sword drawn she finished one quickly with a slice to his arm and a thrust of her pommel to his head and spun around to take care of the other only to see him fall down in a heap before her with a grunt. Behind him stood Rugan, panting slightly, a club in his hands.

He bent to check the men quickly, assuring they were only knocked out and not dead before standing and taking a firm look at her.

“You little fool.” He dropped the club, which fell with a loud thump onto the cobblestone street below them. “Go. Get out of here while I come up with a reason for this mess.” He sighed and looked around, making sure the scene hadn’t been witnessed. Tav was frozen in place, still staring him down. Too many thoughts were reeling through her brain, too many questions. But one stood out. She knew this gambit after all; this was a Thieves Guild play.

“You...you’re with the guild now?” She scoffed and looked him up and down. He was still emblazoned with Zhent gear; the flying serpent patch on the shoulder was a giveaway even if he had traded his typical leathers for a more drab fare. He scowled at her as if she had insulted him and bent down to pick up his dropped knife, sheathing it again.

“No. But the situation here is shite and thanks to some bad luck on my part...I’m out on loan. Zhentarim and the guild have a tentative…agreement for now.” He spat out as though it pained him to say it.

“They’re working together?” Tav frowned again, feeling increasingly out of her depth. Rugan rolled his eyes as if annoyed at her lack of understanding ran a hand over his face.

“Not exactly. But this new Stone Lord has everyone on edge. Better the devil you know and all that.” He muttered. “Go on. Get out of here.” He waved his hand at her dismissively.

Tav opened her mouth to speak but clamped it shut again, still not moving. After all that time spent longing and... he was just waving her off? She stared at him a moment more, and noticed he was looking all around, everywhere on the alley, the thugs, the ground; but not at her. As if he refused to meet her eyes.

“Rugan!” She finally snapped out at him. He sighed and finally looked at her. Beneath the anger, beneath the frustration at the situation, and beneath his scowling face – his eyes betrayed him. He looked almost... scared.

“What?!” He said back, voice trying to convey a tone that his eyes betrayed. Maybe it was the rush of adrenaline at almost getting her throat slit, maybe just seeing him again, or maybe her new found attitude considering the city was going to hells around them; whatever it was, her tongue felt looser than normal. All the feelings she had felt previously, all the anticipation bubbling up and once and taking over her desire to act tough.

“I looked for you at Elfsong.” She finally managed out.

His frown faltered, his eyes softening just a touch.

“I can’t go there anymore.” He said gruffly, hardening himself up again. “You really should go. Get out of here.” He started to turn away but Tav stepped forward and grabbed his arm, stopping him before the words even came to her mind on what she could say.

He turned back, glancing first at her hand then slowly back up to meet her eyes.

“Wait...I…” What could she say? Was she supposed to beg? Was this even the same man she had met before? She decided to speak his language, her senses finally coming back to her in a rush and her own face going cold. “You still owe me money. All that gear-” she started, remembering the deal they had made previously.

“Shhh!” He pulled her closer with her own grip on his arm, almost tugging her off her feet and shot her an angry look, eyes darting around again. She realized all too late that she had no idea what lies he might have spun about what really happened at the Zhentarim base beneath Waukeen’s Rest. Clearly, if he was on loan doing lowly scout duty, they had just barely believed him but even breathing of word of the truth into the air was risky.

“Look. Fine. Just get out of here before anyone see’s you. Meet me at this building tonight and we can settle up.”

He gave her an address she recognized a few blocks away from the Elfsong in an equally shady and run down part of town and shrugged her arm off. He gave her one last almost pleading look to leave and Tav finally turned away, heart hammering in her chest. Pounding the pavement with her boots as if to punish it for the hoped reunion that clearly wasn’t meant to be.

Rugan looked up to watch her leave. He didn’t need this. Not now. He had spent the last month since arriving in Baldurs Gate running from one bad situation to another. It was any wonder he was still alive, although his reputation – what was left of it already – was firmly in shambles. This added a complication he did not need right now.

He let out a deep sigh and looked back down to the body before him, thankful at least he had a witness this time to corroborate that this wasn’t his fault. He could deal with Tav later; he had his own ass to worry about right now.

---

Tav arrived at the run down house at night; there was no specified time so she had waited until everyone had finished their meals and started to settle in for the evening before slipping away. The door to the front was unlocked and she slipped inside, looking around the dark interior. It looked mostly abandoned, but someone had clearly been staying here. She crept further inside, checking the small space was easy; there was just one large living space with a table and a wide opening leading to the bed.

She sighed and lit a set of candles; setting the holder down on the table. Of course he wasn’t here. Tav herself wondered why she had come after their chance encounter. She had been in the city that long and hadn’t seen him? A silly part of her wondered if he had been specifically avoiding her. No, she thought, that’s foolish. She reminded herself of her promise not to build this up into something it wasn’t. Its not a romance novel. Hes a Zhentarim agent. What did you expect? She chastised herself. She gave a sigh at her swirling thoughts and leaned against the wall. She would collect the coin, maybe make sure he was okay and leave. That was it.

Her mind had started to wander and her annoyance had taken firm hold when she finally heard the door swing open. Rugan entered and paused to latch the door behind him before turning back to her.

“I’m surprised you came.” He muttered and looked her up and down. She gave him a once-over as well. He had shed his work leathers for a simple tunic and had a bottle in one hand.

“Yeah, well, we had a deal.” She said, voice icy. He paced closer and gave her a wry smirk.

“Oh, have I done something to piss you off? I saved your life today remember?” He gave her a nod.

“I could’ve handled myself. And I guess that makes us even.” She replied. Without meaning to her mind flashed back to the night in the cave. She shook her head of the thought, determined to remain in control this time. “Actually not quite even. You still owe me my share.” She added, remembering the point of the conversation and their deal.

His face grew dark for a moment but he let it pass and brushed off her words.

“Deals deals deals. Everything in this damned city is deals and coin. And the rich get richer, and we…” he glanced to her, and decided against lumping her in, “folks like myself get tossed aside and left in the gutter.” He rambled on, swinging a hand around.

She cocked her head at him.

“You’re drunk.” She said and crossed her arms. He gave a shrug and took another sip from the bottle he held before walking a couple steps closer.

“Not drunk. Just been drinking. Can you blame me?” He added.

Tav rolled her eyes and leaned away from the wall; still angry at the lost hope the promised hint of joy this reunion would bring. She wondered how she had managed to build him, this very moment, up in her mind like some romantic fantasy; cursing herself again at her own foolishness.

“Well, you smell like a one copper beer and look like…” As she spoke he stood up straighter and narrowed his eyes at her, a slight smirk on his face. Eyeing his lean, tall figure and the sharp features of his face, she found herself suddenly recalling exactly why she had built him up so highly in her mind again and her words fled her.

“Go on...I can take a barb. Tell me what I look like?” He said confidently, daring her to finish the insult. He could almost guarantee nothing she said would hurt nearly as much as anything that happened to him previously.

“Forget it. So, I take it...you didn’t come here to trade coin?” She eyed him carefully. He paced closer still, that same cock sure swagger she had seen previously returning with every step. He raised an eyebrow at her, now only a pace away and Tav found herself backing up until her butt was returned against the wall to avoid bumping directly into him.

“I didn’t. Coin’s gone I’m afraid. Along with…” He hesitated, “well, along with most else of everything.” He gave a humorless chuckle at that, leaving Tav to only wonder what he meant.

“I should go then.” Tav started to move but he reached out his hand to stop her.

“Can’t we catch up first? Have a drink with me. I’m sure you could use it after today. I know I can.” He smirked at her again and held the bottle up between them. Tav stared him down. She had no time for this. There was so much to-do. So much to focus on. She couldn’t let this, him, distract her. Not now. Besides, he seemed to be fully entrenched in his own business and stewing in what ailed him.

His steely eyes assessed her carefully, waiting for some form of response. Ever impatient at her silent calculations, he leaned in a touch closer. “Don’t make me beg.” He purred out, a breath away from being fully on her.

Tav took a sharp breath in, any resolve she had – or resolve she was trying to pretend to have- sneaking readily out of her reach. She stared at him a moment, assessing the sharp lines on his face, trying to glean what was troubling him so much.

“Fine.” She finally sighed and reached up for the bottle between them only to find him pulling it sharply out of reach.

“Ah.” He chastised her with a click of his tongue and a small shake of his head. Tav once again narrowed her eyes and cocked her head at him. He reached his free hand up to stroke a rough hand across her cheek, lingering for a moment on her lips before firmly grabbing her chin. “Let me do the honors. Open.” He said, with a playful but firm tone that left no room for argument. She hesitated, not wanting to acquiesce so easily; but part of her melted at the perceived order and she could feel her blood already pumping hard and rising to her cheeks.

She silently challenged him with her eyes but he just returned her gaze with a wicked smirk, waiting for her to inevitably give in. Her previous annoyance at the thought of being slighted by him was all but gone, burned away by the heat of his gaze; the only thing remaining was the growing warmth in her core.

Tav finally opened her mouth and tilted her head back a touch. Rugan raised the bottle and tipped it forward, giving her a few pours, pausing only to let her swallow the liquid as it accumulated. After a moment she finally held up a hand and pushed the bottle back up and away, feeling like she had practically drank half the contents. She winced as she gave a final swallow, feeling her throat burn at the acid taste of the cheap wine.

She felt the excess drip out the corner of her mouth, spilling down her chin. Before she could reach up to wipe it away he was on her. She heard the bottle clatter to the floor as his hand grabbed her waist, his other hand moving to the back of her head, pulling her in. His tongue licked up her chin, cleaning the remaining liquid before reaching her lips.

Her mouth was warm and slightly bitter from the wine. Rugan found himself stroking her neck, savoring the feeling of her skin. Her supple soft skin. There was a gentle faint cloying smell of old blood that lingered on her but was masked slightly with a soft hint of lavender and something else he couldn't place. She was intoxicating. He felt more drunk off her than the wine and found that his heart was already racing wildly.

Giving fully in to this new fantasy, already lost in a haze of lust, Tav wrapped her arms up around his neck, allowing herself to be consumed, and deciding for the moment, not to question the mood he was in or all that had passed between them that day. His hand on her neck grasped at and tangled in her hair, pushing her further into him, as they continued to kiss deeply.

His hungry kisses left her breathless and she tore her lips away for a moment, sucking in desperate gulps of air. He wouldn't release her, he refused to. He licked and nibbled down her cheek, sucking lightly on her neck. It was too much. After too long. After all that happened. All the misery he had been though. He once again, even more fiercely than before felt an urgent need to devour her as quickly as possible.

They didn't know each other that well; well, in truth they barely knew each other at all. They'd never bothered with any sort of obligatory courtship or relationship building before succumbing to a greater desire. But still, Tav felt a desperation in his touch. A neediness that wasn't there before. A deeper kind of hunger. Not just to fulfill a need to have sex, but a need for her. He couldn’t possibly have missed me, she thought with a pang as his roaming hands and arms finally wrapped around her waist, yanking her even closer.

Mouth still at her neck, his fumbling hands were trying and failing to release the laces holding her tunic tight. She grinned at that; this slick mercenary getting nervous and fumbling over a woman's laces. After a moment of letting him struggle she released her arms and went to help.

He pulled back as she reached her arms around her back, relieving his own hands and taking care of the laces. He stepped back further, taking a moment to tug off his own clothes.

Taking a breath to calm himself, he walked backwards until he reached the edge of the bed tucked away in the adjoining room. He was half hidden in darkness and now fully naked and sat down on the edge to watch her finish undressing.

Tav pulled off her pants and underwear, and realized he had been watching her and blushed slightly. She slowly started to walk forward to meet him but he held up a hand.

“Grab the candle.” He said. Tav grabbed the candle she had placed on the table and continued her approach, specifically swaying her hips, deciding to give him a full show if that was what he wanted. He smirked and widened his legs, reaching a hand down to give his hard cock a long slow stroke as he watched her.

“You are a fucking sight for sore eyes.” He breathed out as she finished her approach. She set the candle down on a nearby table just in the room and then and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“You already used that line once.” She muttered and gave him another long sweeping kiss while he continued to stroke himself. Her hands turned insistent as she gripped his shoulders hard and started to push him back. He resisted and she pulled back slightly, questioning him with his eyes.

“On the bed.” He slipped up from beneath her to allow her access to the bed. She gave him another glance; again struck with the thought that there was something different about him. But she didn’t know him well enough to point to what. Her face flushed again but she went ahead with his request; climbing up on the bed and laying down. He stood at the end, again taking a moment to admire her form, splayed out and ready beneath him.

All the months, all the bad decisions, and close calls, and shit with the guild and the Zhents; he felt it all fleeing his system at once. The only thing that mattered was here and now. The hells could, and probably would, swallow him up tomorrow but tonight he could enjoy this. He gave himself another few strokes, watching her stare up at him patiently. A thought of teasing her flicked through his brain but it was swept away with the wine soaked vision of fucking her senseless instead.

He leaned forward, pawing at her leg as he crawled up on the bed on top of her, sliding his hands up her bare flesh as he approached. His eyes still wandering over her body as he made his way up, taking in every inch he could see and touch. He paused to give her nipple a quick flick with his tongue and he finally reached her face.

His hand had been deliberately slower on the approach and reached the inside of her thigh, giving it a sharp squeeze before continuing forward. He dragged his fingers up and down her slit, feeling her wetness already seeping out.

“You must have missed me.” He said with a smirk, seeing her squirm beneath his grazing touch. Tav bit her lip, not quite sure how to respond. She did, of course she did. She knew that. But she would never admit that to him.

He scanned her face, trying to discern his own answer as he finished his teasing exploration of her folds and finally slipped his fingers inside of her. The sheer pleasure that swept over her face as she moaned out was all the answer he needed. He leaned his body against hers, letting his cock press against the crook of her thigh, letting her feel how hard he was for her.

He watched her face carefully as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. He wanted to drink in her pleasure, to feel her anticipation, swallow her soft gasping moans. Totally consume her in every way possible. In some deep part of his mind he felt a flicker of affection that he was entirely unaccustomed to. She was a delicious fuck; that was all, he tried to tell himself. But why did his heart race so fast just watching her? Why had he wasted so many nights trying and failing to get this same feeling with another’s embrace?

He shook his head of those thoughts and pumped his fingers into her further, ignoring the aching in his cock and lingering feeling that if he was just here for a quick fuck he would have done it already. Tav continued to moan beneath him; already coming undone at his skilled touch. He pulled his face away and moved swiftly back down her torso, finding himself suddenly hungry for more than just the moans she made and simultaneously wanting to see just how loud he could make her scream.

Face flush with her pussy, he leaned forward and gave a few her tender pink clit a few sweeping flicks with his tongue causing her to cry out sharply. He felt the wine fleeing his system now as well, the adrenaline and blood rushing through his veins at being here, with her, over taking his system. He took a moment to smile at her vocal enjoyment before going back in and planting a sucking kiss again directly on her clit.

Her hand reached down, clawing at his scalp and messing up his hair as he continued to pleasure her; pumping his fingers in and out and alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue across her most sensitive area. He took a deep breath in, inhaling her heady scent and the action brought forth another loud call from her lips. He stopped his thrusting and instead pulsed his fingers inside her, sucking hard and feeling her start to shake beneath him. As her moans became breathless and her legs starting to tighten around him, he could tell she was close.

Before she could finish he pulled his fingers out sharply, hungrier than ever for her, selfishly wanting to cum together with her, his mind filled with lust and still clouded with feelings he wasn’t ready for. He raised himself back up and adjusted his hips to line himself against her, ignoring her fierce gaze at being denied release, and without another moment of hesitation thrust himself into her.

Tav gave a sharp gasp of pleasure at sudden sensation and he leaned forward again to grab a quick sloppy kiss, sweeping away the last of her annoyance with his tongue. She reached up and dug one hand into his shoulder, the other clawing at the blanket below them as he thrust himself into her again and again.

This was the feeling he had been chasing. Her face as she panted beneath him, sweat forming on her brow. Her pussy tight and hot around him as he entered her fully each time, his hips snapping sharply. Her moans as they filled the air, punctuated by the sharp smack of his flesh against hers.

No. He shut his eyes and grabbed her leg harshly, fingers digging into her flesh as he flung it over his shoulder and increased his pace. What good was tenderness to him? Affection; feelings; obligations. In his line of work those things got you killed. He caused enough trouble on his own. He pushed all other thoughts aside, focusing instead on the overwhelming pleasure at fucking her and how much deeper the new position allowed him to get inside her.

Her moans increased with his pace, being pushed out of her lungs with every hard thrust of his hips and he found himself moaning in unison, barely able to hold himself back. He leaned down, stretching her further but wasn’t even able to focus enough for a kiss; he was happy just to feel her breath coming out hot and fast on his face.

He finally allowed himself to open his eyes, gazing once more upon her flushed face, her mouth agape. He couldn’t yet admit the reason why, but gods he had missed that face. As if sensing his heavy look, Tav let her eyes flutter open a touch and returned his stare. He increased his pace again, watching her face contort with pleasure as she began to reach her peak.

“Don’t stop…” She panted out, both hands now clutching his shoulders. She had almost forgot how good it felt. How good he felt. He leaned in again, Tav once more feeling a delightfully painful stretch as he bent her leg forward, until he reached her ear.

“Beg me.” He growled out and slowed down a touch. Tav released his shoulders and grabbed his face, pulling it to meet hers. His blue eyes were serious, but a smile played on the corners of his open mouth. She pushed her lips together a moment, forcing back her own smile and refusing to submit. His pace slowed to a crawl, leaving her with an almost aching pain as, once again, her approaching orgasm started to flee.

“Ugh, please…” Tav finally said with a breath. Rugan grinned and thrust himself back into her, resuming his previous furious rhythm. Tav panted, not wanting him to stop again, the building tingle quickly coming back. “Please. Don’t stop…harder. Please.” She whined a word with each panting breath and thrust. He leaned his forehead onto hers, locking eyes and going harder and quicker than before. Finding a growing sensation in his chest was almost as strong as the orgasm building in his core.

It wasn’t long; a moment more and both their bodies had reached their limits, ready to burst like tightly coiled springs. Tav released his face and clawed at his shoulders so hard she could have broken skin, eyes still locked onto his. She finally leaned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut and letting out a loud scream as she climaxed.

Rugan felt her hands clench and her body tense below him and let out a long groan as gave a final deep thrust and came inside of her. He clamped his own eyes shut, releasing her leg finally to bury himself into her shoulder as his orgasm washed through him and all strength left his muscles in a flash. He sucked in gasping gulps of air as he struggled to catch his breath and his body shook with delight.

After a moment the shudders subsided and he pulled out, rolling over to lay on the bed beside her, tucking one arm behind his head. For a moment, indeed for the first moment in months, he felt at peace; that easy, calm, delightful feeling erasing his mind of all previous issues and worries.

Tav let out a sigh and rolled over, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heart beat. He was different she realized; she couldn't point to what had changed but he seemed a little less carefree than before. It wasn’t just a mood. Maybe the years of mercenary work were finally taking a toll on him, she wondered. But, then again, she supposed they both were rather different now.

“I realize, just now, that I don’t know anything about you.” She said and propped her chin up on his chest. He glanced down at her and she saw a flicker of doubt flash through his eyes. After a moment he gave a little shrug, trying to seem nonchalant.

“What do you want to know?” He replied. Tav thought a moment; what did she want to know? What in the realms could she ask now? As she mused she looked across his naked chest once more and spied a scar just on the meat of his shoulder.

"What's this from?" She reached up and traced a finger over the sliver of raised skin as long as her finger. He glanced down and chuckled softly.

"Card game. Couple locals thought I was a bit too lucky. Accused me of cheating." He said up to the roof.

"Were you?" She raised an eyebrow at him. He leaned up again to glance at her face with a playful frown.

"Of course. They had no right to accuse me though." He said with a smirk. “Anyway, things got a little heated and one pulled a dagger on me.”

Tav smiled, satisfied with the small slice of life from him, and traced her hand further down his arm, bypassing the large snake tattoo that curled around it to find another scar on his forearm; a small patch of burned skin, crossed with small lines of scars around it.

“And this?” She asked, trailing her fingers again over the bumps.

“Small incident with some friendly fire. Wizard we had traveling with us one time en route up the sword coast. Acted like such a fucking hot shot. Then, first bit of trouble we get into he practically burned my arm off.” He half-smiled at the memory. “After all was done, he tried a little healing spell he cooked up and almost tore my arm clean off. Needless to say he didn’t last long in the team.” His smile faded as quick as it had come up.

Tav stared at him a moment, his face leaned away so she couldn’t see his expression, but despite his tone decided to keep going with her inquires. She slid her hand back up his arm and approached a rather large clump of raised tissue the side of his abdomen. Before she could reach it and ask the inevitable question he reached down and grabbed her hand, halting her progress.

“You don’t need to do this, you know?” He adjusted and looked down to her again with a frown, propping himself on one elbow. Tav pulled back up and stared at him a moment not sure what to respond with.

“Do what?” She finally replied with a thick swallow.

“Get to know me. We can just have a romp.” He clarified, his tone almost icy. She stared back at him, hard.

“What if I want to get to know you?” She wouldn’t let him do this. As someone who was used to pushing people away she knew the move all too well. He frowned again, clearly not expecting that response.

“Maybe I don’t want anyone getting to know me.” He deflected, his eyes darting away.

“Don’t be a bastard.” She said with a soft smack on his chest. “Between getting-” She cut herself off, realizing for all her probing she hadn’t told him anything about her predicament. The mindflayers. The absolute. Where could she even begin. “I’ve had a really horrible, really long couple months and... meeting you had been the one highlight, so don’t ruin it.” She said, trying to sound annoyed but instead it came out with a tenderness that surprised even her, and his face softened at her words.

He looked away. His heart rattled painfully in his chest. He had tried to dismiss this as just an easy lay. It was easy to say it out loud and easier to repeat it. It was slightly hard to make himself believe it. Now, it was next to impossible, hearing her say that. The more he tried to repeat it now the more it lost all meaning. He heard Tav give a somewhat annoyed sigh and stir, getting ready to move and get up it seemed from the way she adjusted. She pushed herself up on one her arm, sitting up and looking around for her clothes. He reached over, placing his hand on her arm before he could think better of it.

“Its not like I had an easy time getting here either. Being the last man standing…more times than I can count now, well, it isn’t exactly a good look for the reputation. This situation in the city is...” He said up to the ceiling before she could fully move away. She froze and stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t, but she finally settled back down and resumed her position, laying next to him this time to keep an eye on his face.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” She offered. He turned his head to face her, weighing his growing feelings with his absolute stubbornness to admit he had them.

“No.” He said simply. Tav continued to stare at him. “Maybe later.” He finally offered. She scooted closer, pressing her body against his, venturing into what almost could have been called a cuddle if they both would ever admit it.

“And what about you? Grilling me for information but not offering any up yourself? I’ve seen your crew around the city. Heard the rumors. Just what are you doing here?” He rolled his head back to look at her, intent on giving her the same treatment she had just given him.

Tav hesitated. She was all to happy to have his troubles laid bare, but still not keen on sharing her own.

“What have you heard?” She deflected. He rolled fully over and propped his head up on his hand, eager to offer her the same interrogation.

“Whole lot about this Absolute cult nonsense. Ritual murders. Lots o’ stuff.” He narrowed his eyes at her, wanting her to paint the picture for him. Tav let her eyes shut a moment and sighed. She knew this would be coming eventually. After a moment a thought popped in her head and she opened her eyes quickly.

“How about this; you buy me that drink you owe me and I’ll tell you the whole sordid tale.” She offered. Rugan hesitated but couldn’t help but smile slightly at her request. The whole mess he had landed himself in snapped back in his mind and his smile faded, remembering why he had kept his distance. He was still practically a dead man. The only reason they hadn’t killed him yet was because they needed the men; but before long, he knew his blood would be spilled. Before he could speak, Tav piped up again as if sensing his thoughts. “Whatever this mess is with the guild and the Zhents... I could help, you know?”

He focused his eyes back on her and frowned. He had heard enough to know her and her team had been busy in the city; even if he wasn’t exact on the details. And here she was, offering to help him, of all people.

“You’d do that?” He narrowed his eyes at her in slight disbelief. Help never came free. There was always a price for men like him.

“For a drink. Yes.” She grinned again at him and leaned forward, stealing another long kiss. “Until then, maybe we could make good use of this bed again.” She added with a whisper. He finally let himself smile at that, leaning in to kiss her again.

She pushed him back roughly and climbed on top of him before he could protest. He didn’t even pretend to this time. Finally giving up the semblance of control he was grappling onto so tightly. She grabbed his hands with a grin, pinning them playfully above his head as she rolled her body against his. He found himself grinning against her kisses, finally allowing a little sliver of hope to slide back into his life.

#rugan #bg3 fics #bg3 smut

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littleplasticrat · 1 day

Text

the kitchen 18+ gn!reader x potwasher!astarion au, 2k

He‘s not the sort to linger among the rabble of the kitchen at the end of the evenings. The fact you were barely aware of his existence prior to now speaks volumes. - based on a discussion with @bhaalism. he's a potwasher. you want to fuck the potwasher. this started as a joke and now i'm obsessed. enjoy. cw: 18+, astarion is a potwasher, this is an au, you work in a shitty chain restaurant, sex, reader smokes, astarion vapes, creampies, oh no, gn reader i think

Before he’d caught you short of smokes, you’d never paid him much mind.

Hair back in some messy swoop - grey, although you could swear under the fluorescent light of the kitchens it shone a bright white. Some age to his almost-crimson eyes but nothing too notable.

Your pockets empty, patting down a food-encrusted apron in a tired resignatory furor - and he’d offered his vape silently under the back-door shelter. Minty. The familiar clouds in the walk-in, the occasional lingering menthol smell from his station. Your smoke breaks rarely align but this evening the stars shone between the fuzzy gaps in soaking clouds overhead and they gave you something new. Nicotine, chewed mouthpiece.

There’d been a small exchange at the doorway following his outreach.

He watched you with an inquisitive head tilt, eyes sharp with a dark smudge of lash - as if he were seeing you for the first time in this haze of heavy rain. Looked out to the bins with a deep breath and snorted at the overflow.

Astarion. Pot-wash extraordinaire, announced with a churlish eye-roll and some quiet clack of his tongue in your direction. He’d never so much as looked at you prior that you’d noticed, but now his gaze was locked on your inhale as if to watch the clear liquid leave the tank in real time. Lids flickering up to etch your side profile somewhere in the silver span of his mind. Another name to know. Another person to potentially cover his Sunday lates if he can get through to you, though.

The name sounded far too beautiful, too distinct; but the pallor suggested local blood in those thick bluish veins. No freckles nor warmth in his ridiculously high cheeks, just the breeze of an oft-downturned nose and a passing fondness for the half-full bottles of red left by your tables, chugged (naturally) in a messy snorting huff over the running sink. Dribbles of dry red down that statuesque marble chin and a cack handed holler from the weekend porter - who would just as quickly be walloped over the head with the neat strike of a folded tea-towel.

His sniff at your thanks, the brief noncommittal nod before he tucked the vape back into his trouser pocket and dived back inside.

Camaraderie. That’s it.

It’s a week later when you both find yourselves outside again, falling through the back door out into another dark downpour to find him huddled to your left; drowning in an oversized outdoorsy coat with vape in hand.

He catches your eye once more with a small smile

“Astarion, right?”

“Well remembered.”

You fish in your jacket pocket and pull out a disposable vape box, handing it over with a hurried smile.

“For the other night.”

“Could’ve just got the juice, you know.”

He hesitates on taking it, holding your stare.

“I know. This was easier though. I’m not going to a vape store.” You grin and he snorts, taking the box from your hand.

“Well. Thank you. Most unexpected.”

You stand in amenable silence for a few moments, lighting your poison whilst he puffs away into the night.

“How long have you been here, then?” You ask, flicking the ash into the wet and folding your arms.

“Too long. Far too long. You?”

“I’d say the same, but we haven’t really crossed paths before; have we?”

“Shame.”

He bristles as he says it. Some easy poke at wooing, you think.

You could be swayed.

He is pretty. Really pretty. With those looks you’re almost surprised he’s not the rake of the joint, but your co-workers seem ridiculously oblivious to him - and he isn’t too endeared with them either, from what you can tell. He‘s not the sort to linger among the rabble of the kitchen at the end of the evenings, nor is he one of the roaring personalities that carry all the way through to the bar counter in their jovial roaring. The fact you were barely aware of his existence prior to now speaks volumes.

“What do you do when you’re not here, then?”

He looks back at you in a guarded ponder, eyes narrow.

“I spend the odd day off on my yacht, obviously; but only when my sprawling country mansion is undergoing renovations.”

You offer a laugh and he smirks. The humour is poor but salient.

“Ah! We might be neighbours, you know.”

“The mansion?”

“No, the dock. My weeknight yacht was newly refurbished there!”

“Oh, what luck!”

“We’ll have to host a dinner party or something. It’s only proper.”

Astarion gives you a laugh you’ve never heard before - loud and airy, almost comical if it weren’t for the sincere rumble toward the end.

“Dinner party! Oh yes. Absolutely. With little vol-au-vents and hors d’ouvres.”

“A must have.”

“I agree, darling. It’s a date.”

As he puts his vape back in his pocket and bids you farewell with a small wave of those pale hands, you lean back on the closed door with an uncharacteristic light-headedness.

Darling.

You’re given too much time to stew on it, the slight exuberant lilt of his voice. The roundness of his eyes as he spoke with you in jest. The fact he didn’t smell like kitchen grease but instead some warm note of vetiver and menthol. The fact you even noticed how he smelled.

As a new evening rounds off you find yourself with little else to do but search for him behind the service window, and you’re quietly delighted by what you find.

The smattering of white-shock curls - back arched as he leans over the empty prep station, ass high in a light nonchalant sway as your fellow servers dash to visit the kitchen in search of dead plates to devour. The quirk of a brow as the head chef gives freely to those who ask, whittling down a single stale fry with small bites as he observes.

You hadn’t expected things to change after your encounter, and to that point, they definitely haven’t.

You’re just more aware of him now.

When he catches you watching almost immediately from afar, you offer him a small grin whilst he shifts to wholly capture your gaze. A challenge. The corner of his mouth lifts as he moves to hold your stare, calm and cool; with that fox-like tilt of his head to the side.

You could picture it.

The linger after lock-up, satchel on his shoulder as he catches you waiting for him.

The slight moment of bewilderment before it becomes easy banter - even though restrained - once more. A quip on his part, maybe; some query as to what you’re waiting for as he hangs onto your every word in focused anticipation.

Maybe a drink at the bar down the road - but more likely in your mind a stop at the nearest off-licence to pick up a bottle or two of that wine he likes, as you dance around each other in a waiting quiet, bristling. Fluorescent corner-store lights giving his hair that unnatural sheen while he prowls the aisles and heads to the till, head turned back to see you waiting; eyes on him at the door. He’s heavy lidded the whole walk to his, hands kept to themselves for the walk up the stairs. The rattle of keys in the lock.

You reckon his flat - it has to be a flat, he couldn’t keep a whole house on your wage - is littered with burnt incense sticks and plush rugs and cushions in every jewel tone you can possibly imagine yet it feels so very him. He ushers you through to the living room and the awkward dance begins with the sofa, but he keeps you at ease. Collects wine glasses from the kitchen and pours with a flourish before settling back onto the seat and encouraging you with some typically witty output to do the same.

Candles. You didn’t see him lighting them, but they’re lit. The air is heavy with orange flower, patchouli; musk - vetiver and menthol as he exhales, insisting you’re okay to smoke if you like, but passing you his vape wordlessly as you reach for it. Fingers brushing as you do. You talk for a small while, but you both know why you’re here.

His eyes move to the open buttons of your chest as he deftly wets his bottom lip, and you take it as your chance to place your glass on the side table and ask if you’re okay to shed the shirt completely. It’s far too warm in there.

The candles, obviously. That’s why.

His coy nod, the languid blink as he watches your fingers dance your shirt open and pry the black shirt from your chest. Your deep exhale as you settle back into the sofa, lying slightly back with your legs angled toward him; glass back in hand.

His breath hitches. You notice it. He’s practically purring.

When he sets his glass aside in a pretence of pouring more wine, you reach for his arm to halt him from filling yours - now empty - and like a tense spring, he snaps.

Time slows as he reaches for your wrist and tilts his head once more, your enthusiastic nod giving him the permission he seeks; and brings your hand quickly down the solid span of his torso to the achingly hard bulge of his cock, letting your palm rest over the top of his trousers.

Wet. Fuck.

His slow-primal groan as you gently stroke at the sodden patch of precum, cupping to warm him through his clothes whilst he bucks lightly toward you. Towards the pressure, the warmth you can provide.

From then, you can feel yourself growing sticky. Shuffling as you race to disrobe. You picture the stony length of his cock freed from those awful work trousers and glistening something bulbous and glassy in the low light, your own fevered want reaching its peak as you bare yourself and he pulls you into a kneeling hover over him.

To feel the soft velvet of his tip brushing your arousal. There’s no need for foreplay. No need for any preparation of the sort, you’re both craving the relief. He offers his hand to catch a pool of your spit and lubricates his length in long, steady jerks.

Even they can’t mask the shudder of his breath. The fluttering of those smoky lashes as he rubs himself onto your waiting hole, watching; allowing a slip inside every few moments and waiting for your eager gasp each and every time.

Then, you sink onto him - and it’s bliss. Complete and utter bliss. You’ve never felt so full nor so weak in your whole entire life and for a moment you’re worried he’s ruined you. His heady moans of pleasure as you adjust around him. The space where you meet, where he impales you; runs soaking with arousal and sweat.

You move to ride him like your life depends on it. You’re his sweet little thing, his angel; and you are being so very good for him as you take his cock. His palms remain glued to the fat of your ass whilst his cool fingers dig deep into the ripe flesh and he bounces you up and down on his forearms with some remarkable strength.

His.

His, his; his. His beautiful thing. He’s perfect under you, with his pathetic desperate whimpers and the face of a wanton adonis; sturdy shoulders your anchor, for fear you’ll simply float away with sheer unbridled pleasure.

When he cums, he makes a point to do it inside you. Holds your thighs down so you can’t hop off nor be tempted to ride him through his peak; so you can feel him twitch and pulse inside you, ropes and ropes of his thick, hot spend painting your insides. His.

He’s called back to finish the last few pots on the side, and you silently rejoice in your sticky save as he winks goodbye through the bar window; eyes lingering on his ass as he walks slowly back to the service sink.

Fuck.

#astarion x reader #bg3 fic #bg3 smut

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