#dazart

A couple new things up on Ao3...

Happy Kinktober, everyone! To kick things off, I have two new works up on Ao3. The first is chapter 1 of what will be a two-chapter somnophilia-flavored piece, "Little Dreamer".

The second, 31 Days and 31 Nights: Strix and Astarion's Kinktober Special is a collection of NSFW renders (with accompanying snippets) that I will add to every day of the month. Below is a heavily cropped preview of the first entry, which is a scene from "Little Dreamer," as well as a snippet from the fic. The full render is on Ao3.

Enjoy!

He’s sorely tempted to touch her sex, to feel whether she’s wet between the legs; but isn't something she's ever told him he can do, or that she would like him to. So, he doesn't. But when she moans again, quietly and with a touch of anguish—as if in objection to his refusal to risk violating her—Astarion cannot help but imagine how much she would almost certainly like it if he did touch her there. He imagines allowing his fingertips to cover that last remaining inch, slipping through soft, wisping curls to where they collect moisture at their southern border. He imagines finding her engorged for him, and resting the pad of one finger atop the pinnacle of her aching nerves, until her subconscious wanting spurs her hips to move for him in a plea for pressure. And pressure he would give to her, carefully and slowly, a little at a time. Just enough to make her hips beg a little harder, without waking her up. He imagines how her moans would deepen, as she begins to chase her pleasure; how the fresh trickle of it would feel, kissing the tips of his fingers; and how she would whimper for more when they still, coming to rest at the cusp of her plush lips. And then, when he finally pushes between them, he imagines just how wet she would be. Before he knows it, Astarion is fully hard and aching with his fantasy. He moves his hand to grasp to his cock, as if to verify its hardness. Then, thinking of how wet that she must be; almost automatically, he removes his hand, and spits into his palm. And while his eyes remain fixed on the slope of her neck, very slowly, he begins to stroke himself. Surely, his darling wouldn’t mind.

The Crow, his demon, and his Gatita fiera.

I've written 135k+ words about these loving idiots. You can find those stories on AO3, link here.

Stating Out The Window