#and if Astarion is there he absolutely rolls his eyes

[vampirecatboy]

was trying to decide whether i want my trio to be a hinge situation, where Wyll and Astarion are with Aja but not with each other, or if i want it to be a full triangle from the get-go

then i realized how funny it would be if it started as an Aja hinge, and they're sort of like "I'd rather not... with him" because they're so different but Aja gets more and more invested in getting them together and they like reluctantly (kicking and screaming for Astarion) try it out "for Aja" because they both care about him

but then oops they catch feelings like absolute idiots

[dreamingcricket]

politely requesting either halsin or astarion with a tav/reader who like..shrugs off their advances bc they don’t think someone like either of them would take interest in them. like very oblivious to the fact that people actually like them. (totally not self indulgent lmao) ((i love mutual pining to lovers i-))

CW: Mild sexual content, reader is injured

Astarion has started to question whether this is your way of gently rebuffing him, or you're actually this dense.

He's not a subtle flirt. He uses all his most seasoned tricks, exhausts every overture he can think of. He can't remember wanting anyone this much. And yet, every one of his suggestive quips is laughed off.

He's there in the morning, sliding in beside you as you drink your tea. "Good morning, beautiful. You're looking absolutely radiant today." He runs a finger down your arm. When you blush and smile back, something warms in the pit of his stomach.

He's there as you put on your armour. "Allow me, dove." And as he tightens the straps on your mantle, he lets his fingers brush the underside of your jaw. "There. Just right." He purrs into your ear.

And of course, when he feeds. He takes his time, pulling you close, cradling your head, running his fingers through your hair. He nuzzles into your neck before he bites, pressing his lips against your rabbiting pulse for just a moment longer than he should.

Even in battle, when he's swiftly at your back, flashing you brilliant smiles as he races to your defense, you jovially thank him, like you do all your companions. Like he's your friend. Just your friend.

All efforts so far, completely ignored.

So now he watches you from across camp, the firelight dancing across your features as you laugh (he tries to ignore the tender stirring in his chest at the sound).

He throws back his glass of wine, and grimaces at the pitying glances of his compatriots. Of course it was obvious to anyone except you.

You stood, bid Wyll and Karlach goodnight, but instead of disappearing into your tent, you vanished into the brush.

Astarion sat for a long moment. He should let you go. You clearly weren't interested, and he should just... move on. Like he always had.

Who are you kidding, you fool?

He didn't care that he startled Gale with his speed and he pursued you into the woods.

You were seated on a rock, your face turned up toward a shaft of moonlight, eyes closed. He stopped to admire you.

"Sorry I took off. I just wanted to enjoy the quiet."

"I'll go, if you want me to."

You start, and turn towards his voice. "Astarion, didn't expect you."

"Were you expecting someone?"

"No... just-

He's suddenly surging forward without thought, and the two of you are rolling across the grass.

"Astarion, what the fu-"

He silences you with a burning kiss, brimming with anger and desperation. You roll him onto his back, furiously returning his advance. "What-" you pant between kisses. "-took you so long, idiot."

He's furiously tugging at your linen shirt, baring your back and shoulders. You'd be angry if you weren't still reeling.

"You never flirted back!" He pins you down, only to find his hips locked between your legs.

"I flirt constantly, Astarion! You drink my blood every night! I've been waiting for you to take the next step for weeks!" Now it's you tearing at his shirt, your hands groping for purchase on his shoulders. "I thought you didn't think of me like that." Now it's your lips against his neck, and he chokes on a moan.

"That's not flirting!" He's never been this heated during sex. He's a collected lover, and for all the inherent violence of his existence, he realizes - he wants to be gentle. At least this time.

He takes your hands in his and stills your thrashing. You lock eyes, both of you out of breath, chests heaving. He places a single, gentle kiss to the palm of your hand. "Shall we begin again, love?"

"I'd like that."

"My name's Astarion. You are a truly stunning creature," he leans down, and whispers to you, "... and I'd very much like to make love to you tonight."

Halsin thinks you are quite possibly the most extraordinary person he's ever met.

 

He can't erase the image of you the first time he saw you from his mind, eyes ablaze, arcane power crackling at your fingertips. 

He's had so many partners, but all of his love affairs were brief, transient. Deep, but nothing had ever moved him like this. Typically, Halsin is straightforward with his feelings. His passing dalliances with fellow druids and traveling rangers had never daunted him. But with you, making his feelings known was... complicated.

You'd been through a significant trauma, and while you put on a quite the brave face, ever the intrepid leader, he's been around long enough to see your fragility. You'd seen so many horrors in such a short amount of time. Emotions were running high, he wouldn't risk coming on too strong.

So instead... he brought you gifts. It was a very natural way to court someone, at least. Baskets of berries, a fresh catch from the river, perhaps they're gifts to his own taste, but he hopes you'll enjoy them.

He offered to braid your hair, to help ease the tension in your shoulders with a massage in the evenings (his hands are absolutely enormous, which certainly helps). 

And, unbeknownst to the rest of the camp, and to his mild shame, he couldn't help but rub his scent near your tent. He wouldn't invade your boundaries and touch your things, but he couldn't help his instincts. Lae'zel noticed at last, but only scoffed and offhandedly remarked, "The way you dance around your affections is pathetic. Tell them, or stop simpering."

Things eventually came to a head when you were injured, badly. The arrow tore through your side, and you hit the ground before you could register you'd been shot, the world became pain and a blur of color and noise. 

Halsin was by your side in a heartbeat, shielding you with his frame as spells and arrows flew overhead.

"Don't move little one, you're losing blood." He sounded calm, but there was a tremor in his voice. You'd never seen him afraid before.

"Halsin..."

"Shh, shh. Hold still." His magic flows through you, and the muscles in your side knit back together as he pulls the arrow free.

"Halsin." Your hand lifted to weakly brush his cheek. Your vision was swimming. 

The thunderous roar of battle magic echoed nearby. Gale rushed towards you. "Are they alright?"

"They will be." Halsin spoke it like an oath. "But they're weak." 

"We'll finish this, get them to safety!"

Halsin cradled your body to his chest and barreled off the battlefield. You drifted in and out of consciousness, but were always aware of his arms around you. They felt like safety. Like home.

The druid ducks behind a half destroyed wall, and begins to reassess your wound. "Gods, you frightened me." He lays you down carefully, head in his lap, and begins to clean the wound. 

You smile up at him. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me."

"I like this."

He's puzzled. "Being horribly injured?"

"Being held by you." 

At that moment, your body finally gave out, and your vision went black. 

When you woke, bandaged and sore, in your tent, Halsin was sitting by your bedroll with his back to you. Recalling in horror the confession you'd made, you try to pretend you were still asleep. 

"I know you're awake, little one." 

You sigh. "I'm... about what I said, I'm sorry. I know you don't feel that way, and-" 

"Stop." He turned and placed a finger against your lips. "No more words." 

You braced for his rejection. At least the druid was kind, empathetic. Or perhaps his pity would make it worse. 

His lips coming down on yours were not what you expected. He was gentle, and smelled of moss and pretrichor, dark soil and sweat. You kissed him back, laughing into his mouth. 

He pulls away, then presses his forehead to yours. "I'm here. As long as you'll have me." 

"Oh, I intend to." Your attempt to sit up is hampered by a shock of pain from your wound. "Ow. Shit."

Halsin guides you back down to your pillows. "All in good time, little one."

[reobsessed]

Unfamiliar Waters

Pairing: Tav X Astarion, Reader X Astarion. Gender neutral. Content: Bathing, kissing, hair washing, fluff, comfort, slight conflict that gets resolved immediately, no sex, minor mention of torture. 1500 Words. Summary: You were in dire need of a bath after a harrowing fight outside the inn you were staying at. Unfortunately you find the tub already occupied by Astarion. In an attempt to bond with and get him out of there, you offer to wash his hair. Another short Astarion fic I started a while ago. Wanted to do something fluffy and intimate without any sex. Thanks again to Suri for edits and help with lines and the title!

You flung open the wooden doors, uncaring as wood chipped against lavender painted walls. Just as you were halfway through discarding your shirt, an indignant cry caught you off guard.

“What in the sweet hells, do you mind?!” The towel and toiletries fell from your hands. You’d never been very perceptive and today was no exception. Already fully submerged in the tub was Astarion; chest bare slumped over the side, a dripping copy of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette in hand.

“Astarion?! I haven’t seen you in hours, is this where you’ve been?” You spluttered. “We really could have used your help. There was a fight right outside the inn. There’s absolutely no way you didn’t hear the commotion.”

“Some of us take pride in our appearances and besides, I needed time away from that festering group of ingrates.” As if to emphasise his point he shuddered. “You know, you could all learn a lot from me, starting with regular bathing.”

“And how exactly are any of us meant to bathe when you’re in the bathroom four hours every day?”

“Oh I don’t know, Baldur’s Gate has plenty of scenic rivers and lakes. I’m sure the bear has no problem leading each of you to nature’s finest bathhouse.”

You rubbed your temples with a freehand. As much as you loved this man, he could really start to grate on your nerves after a while. You scooped up your belongings and made your way over to him, arranging your towel neatly on the floor beside you.

He looked up from the paper disinterestedly. “As much as I love your company, dear, I hope you’re not planning on joining me. I hardly think this,” he gestured disapprovingly at the tub, “can fit us both.”

“Astarion, if there’s anything I can do to cut this exceedingly long bath short, I would be more than happy to assist.”

His eyes widened momentarily. How stupid of you, you hadn’t considered the implications of what you’d said. 

“No, no, that's quite alright. I’ve still got my hair to wash and that’ll take at least another half an hour.”

Perching yourself on the edge of the tub beside him, you began rolling up your sleeves.

“Then allow me.” You smirked.

He flung the sodden paper to the floor and stared at you dumbfounded. “You mean you- wash my hair. I’m sitting here naked, dripping and gorgeous and all you want to do is ‘wash my hair’?”

“Couples do things for each other. Things outside of sex and combat, I might add,” you sniped back. Using your fingers, you began combing through his dampened locks.

“Without the sex, I suppose that leaves only the one thing we do together then.”

“That’s true.” His body tensed. “No, no wait- '' Flustered, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed your forehead against the back of his head. A feeble gesture, intended to soothe him and buy you enough time to explain.

“Just kidding,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, but you knew it wasn’t genuine.

“I like doing other things with you,” you mumbled into his curls. “I don’t care about the sex.” You relaxed your hold, allowing him to turn around to face you. Delicately, you reached out and wiped a stray piece of hair from his forehead. As you did so, his unnaturally pale cheeks took on a darker hue, perhaps from the heat or from your touch, you weren’t sure.

He cleared his throat and turned away again. “I see then. Well, this is as good a time as any to try something new.” 

“Really?!” your head perked up. “I’m so excited, haven’t washed anyone else's hair since I left home.” You began swirling a hand in the tepid water, carefully choosing a spot faraway from where Astarion sat. “Did you and your siblings ever do this for each other? Like my family did,” you asked without thinking.

He shot you an incredulous glare, which soon contorted into sarcastic glee. “Oh, of course we did! And then in between our torture sessions we’d paint each others’ nails! What good fun it was.” His smile dropped and he fell backwards into the bath, splashing you in the process.

You scratched the back of your head. “Sorry I-”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Leave it, my love. No use dwelling on all that now.” You nodded your head in agreement, not that he could see you. “Come now, we don’t have all day.” 

You hummed in agreement, looking over the various bottles that sat on a shelf beside the bath. Astarion was a very particular man and you didn’t wish to upset him by, god’s forbid, using the wrong fragrance. You gestured towards the selection of shampoo. “What’s your poison?”

“Hmm, I think today I‘m in the mood for jasmine- no wait- night orchid and ginseng- actually, that honey shampoo sounds positively delicious.”

“Might net you some unwanted attention from our camp bear,” you joked, hands sifting through the knots in his hair.

“Fair point. Alright then, I think I’d like to try that raspberry one, the one you got from that dear little market stall.” 

The same one you liked to use.

With a gentle firmness you cupped the sides of his head. You hoped it was enough to stop him from turning around and seeing the pure glee etched onto your face.

“Alright, I need to get it wet, lean back,” you instructed, as you scooped up a handful of water.

He did as he was told and reclined backwards, eyes closed and squinted, anticipating the stream of water. Doing this for your brothers and sisters had been easy. Hells, you could get away with lobbing them in the river and they’d be just fine. Astarion, on the other hand, required a more delicate touch (even if he’d never admit to it) and you were more than happy to cater towards him.

With slow precision you poured the cooling water over his scalp, immediately pushing back any stray drops that threatened to drip down into his eyes. 

Gods, how was it possible for such a man to be so beautiful and how was it that such a man had chosen you as his partner? Your hands stopped and your gaze lingered, as you took in his picturesque features.

An eyelash heavy with steam peeled open, giving you an inquisitive look.

“Enjoying the show, darling?” A thick, humid heat bloomed across your cheeks. “By all means, keep admiring me.”

“Shut up and close your eyes!” You grabbed the bottle from the side and began lathering it in your hands. The familiar fragrance filled your nostrils and despite having grown accustomed to having it as your own scent, you were looking forward to how it smelt on him.

You rubbed the foam through your fingers, fully enveloping his hair in a thick mousse. As your nails dragged across his scalp you heard him moan. 

“That feels positively wonderful.”

“Oh yeah, like this?” you asked, repeating the same motions as before. He mmm-ed softly, sinking further into your hold. You paused for a second, this might be the most satisfied sound you’d ever heard coming from his lips, not a bad thing of course, given his past experiences. 

His eyes were open again, staring up at you, face awash with bliss. 

“Itching for a taste are we?” he goaded lightly.

There was no use dignifying that with a response. You brought your lips down upon his, his head still clasped in your hands. It was brief and sweet, reminiscent of those first kisses you’d once shared with young lovers. Unthinkable that such innocent yearning could be reclaimed so late in life. 

Reluctantly you broke the kiss and pulled away.

“I do rather like that, you know…”

“I know and so do I.” You beamed. “Okay now can you please hurry up so I can have a bath,” you pleaded, peppering his mouth with more kisses.

“Always so demanding,” came his curt reply (the audacity). Nonetheless, he complied and finished up. 

A deep sigh of relief escaped your lips after finally lowering yourself into freshly ran water. About halfway through wetting your hair, a freezing pair of hands on your shoulders caught you off guard.

“Astarion!” you shrieked. The little rogue had snuck up behind you.

“Oh, do be quiet, and don’t splash me. Wouldn’t do to get me wet again.” You watched as he rifled through the shampoo bottles disapprovingly. “We must go to the market together again soon, darling, just the two of us. I know just the product that’s perfect for your hair type, might do something about that helmet musk too.”

You opted to ignore that last dig, instead choosing to relish in the satisfaction of a warm bath and your lover threading his fingers through your hair. “I’d like that,” you hummed happily. 

A contented silence descended over the room. You felt at peace and when you saw him hovering above you with that serene grin on his face, you knew he felt the same.

[bloodsuckingfiends]

Take Care of You

Summary: Tav's selflessness does not go unnoticed by Astarion, but so doesn't the way her selflessness is at the expense of her own well-being. He decides to take it into his own hands to take care of her... in more ways than one.

Pairing: Astarion x fem! Tav (reader)

Warnings: Tav overworks herself and neglects her own needs/selfcare, smut, fingering (Tav is AFAB), feminine pet names used, praise kink, I think that's it!

Word Count: 1.3k+

A/N: I have brainworms again and need to get this out sooooo enjoy?

Oftentimes, Astarion found that Tav tended to the needs of others, but very rarely to any needs of her own. He had witnessed Tav spend the last 3 days taking care of everyone, including himself in various ways that had her now looking, and surely feeling, absolutely exhausted. As he stood outside his tent, eyes scanning the camp setup before him, his gaze zeroed in on his Tav who was currently starting the fire, and helping to set up Gale’s various cooking tools and ingredients. A soft smile tugged at his lips just at the mere sight of her, before turning to a frown. As it was, Gale was away from camp, surely bathing off the day’s blood and grime along with their other companions, as Tav readied everything for their return. Her hair was crusted with blood, as was her armor, and her cheeks were streaked with dirt. Her eyes ringed with purple, tell tale signs of her exhaustion.

With a sigh, Astarion makes his way across camp, coming to stand beside Tav,

“Darling, I must say, you do look absolutely ravishing in red, but don’t you think it’s a good idea to get cleaned up?” She looks up at him with doe eyes, hands not stilling in their endeavor to help.

“Oh I don’t mind waiting. The others won’t be long, and besides, I just want to help set up for Gale. He’s always so kind as to make dinner for everyone, so this is me paying him back.”

Astarion manages to internalize his eye roll, and hold his tongue from pointing out that Tav has saved the wizard plenty of times in battle to make up for the meager stew that’s served nearly daily.

He places a hand on her shoulder, before pulling back and dusting the dried blood off his hand, “I just worry that you haven’t been taking care of yourself, is all.” a clear of his throat does well to cover the awkwardness he feels at saying such a vulnerable thing to her. 

“I’m alright Star, no need to worry.” She gives him a glance and a little smile.

“I don’t mean to be blunt darling, but you look positively dreadful and like you could use a nap. Please, let me take care of you.” Astarion huffs, frustrated at her stubbornness. Tav straightens up and turns, her eyes meeting his almost pleading ones, “Okay, I’ll let you take care of me.” Her voice comes out a quiet murmur. There was no denying him when he gave her that look.

The others arrive back to camp not long after Astarion gathers fresh clothes, a comb, and toiletries for Tav. He leads her to a secluded spot along the shore of a small lake they are camped by, before unbuckling and removing her heavy armor and underclothes, leaning forwards to press a kiss to her forehead as he does so. He strips himself of his own clothes, regardless of having bathed earlier that evening, taking Tav’s hand in his own and bringing her to the water. Astarion gets to work, lathering the soap between his hands, and gently scrubbing the filth from Tav’s body and face, a shiver running through her at his touch. He has her fully dip underwater, then begins to work the soap through the blood drenched strands of her hair, massaging at her scalp with his fingertips. Tav lets a moan slip past her lips.

“Does that feel good darling?” Astarion chuckles as he brings the soap down to the ends of her hair.

She mumbles an affirmative, her eyes flutter shut. 

“Alright, there we go. Just rinse this out for me, will you, love?” 

Tav dips back below the surface, thoroughly rinsing out her locks. When she resurfaces, Astarion can’t help but bite his lip at the sight. The water rolling down her neck, over her breasts as she pushes her hair away from her face. She looks like a painting, he thinks. 

The two dry off, and Tav dresses in the clothes that Astarion had brought along for her; a pair of loose trousers, and one of his ruffled night shirts she so loved to steal. Once in Astarion’s tent, the vampire sits, patting the space between his legs and motioning for Tav to take a seat. She obeys, and sits while he starts to comb her hair.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” he hums, fingers beginning to plait her hair.

“I’m okay. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I am.” Tav yawns, her hands mindlessly playing with a loose thread on his trousers.

“Tav, you really must take care of yourself. You put everyone, including myself, before you. It’s really no wonder you’re so exhausted.” he ties off the braid with a piece of leather. His arms come around to wrap over Tav’s chest, holding her against his own and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.

“I just want to help everyone, and I guess I lose myself in the process.” a chill runs through her at the feel of his lips on her sensitive skin. 

“Darling, do you think you could try to lose yourself in me, just for a moment, hm?” his tongue flicks against the edge of  her jaw. 

She gasps in a breath, and stutters, “ye-yes, I think I could do that.” 

“Let me take care of you.” One hand whispers across her chest, lightly cupping one breast in it’s hold, before trailing down her stomach, and dancing along the waist of her trousers, “Let’’s take these off.”

Tav shimmies her pants over her hips and down her legs, toeing them off to the side. Astarion runs his hands down her naked thighs, hooking beneath them to lift them and rest them over the tops of his, successfully spreading her open for him. Her breath catches in her chest, the cool air hitting her already sensitive cunt.

“My my, look at you. You’re already positively dripping.” He dips his fingers below and runs his middle finger through her wet, swollen slit, opposite hand running up her ribcage, grasping at her breasts and teasing at her nipples. He toys at her entrance, teasing the tips of his fingers in  her before pushing slowly inside. Tav moans, her chest heaving slightly at the intrusion. 

“That’s it, such a good girl taking my fingers like this.” Astarion coos in her ear, nose pressed to her cheek. He begins to pump his digits in and out, crooking them just enough to rub at that spot that makes her mewl. 

“Just feel how good I’m making you feel, my love.” The pace of his fingers picks up, and his other hand pinches at one of her nipples. 

“St-Star, I’m close.” her head falls back against his shoulder, throat exposed for his mouth’s taking. Thighs shake against his as she nears her end. He sucks and licks at the flesh of her throat, fingers continuing their pace. The hand playing with her breasts, makes its way down to circle her swollen clit. Tav whines at the contact, hands grip at his forearms, grounding her to the moment. 

“That’s it, pet. Come for me. Come around my fingers, I want to feel it.” 

Her cunt spasms around him, thighs quaking and hips lifting to meet his movements. Moans fly past her lips, as she rides out her orgasm. Astarion slows his fingers as she comes down from her high, “Shh shh shh, there we go.” Tav looks back at him, a blissed out, glassy look to her eyes. “There you are, darling. How did that feel?” 

She tries to regulate her breathing, “So good.” she manages to reply.

He grabs a cloth, and cleans her up, then slips back on her underclothes and trousers. 

“Come here, my love.” He scoops her up and lays her down, her head upon his chest, as he pulls the bedroll and blankets around the two of them. 

“Thank you Star, for taking care of me.” Tav mumbles as she drifts off and gets the much needed rest that she deserves.

[feyascorner]

Despite the less than fortunate circumstances the two of you met in, you think Astarion is the closest thing a person could call a perfect lover.

Besides one, rather large thing that eats at you every night.

He hogs the blanket.

You've tried everything. More blankets, building a wall with pillows, more blankets, lighting the fireplace, and oh, did I mention more blankets?

With each attempt, you wake up shivering in the dead of night, because he has absolutely everything draped over his body—not even wrapped around him—like a mountain of fabric piled on top of him. He sleeps like a corpse, hands and arms stuck to his sides, so why the hells he needs so many, you don't understand.

And when you yank away the blankets, your hands brush against his skin which you swear border on freezing temperatures. If you wrap yourself around multiple times with blankets, it somehow always ends up near him, leaving you to face the blaring cold by yourself.

Quite honestly, you're fed up.

“Darling, there are better ways of asking to tie me up.”

You scoff, tightening the bedroll around his entire body with the strap that comes along with it. “If I wanted to tie you up, it would feel sexier than this.”

“Trust me, love, I think you're sexy even when your hair looks like a nest in the morning.”

You glare at him which earns you a cheeky grin. “I wouldn't look like that if you let me have one night of sleep without waking up to a blizzard!”

He wiggles a bit in the bedroll, testing it out. And just when you think it might hold, the bindings fall apart, and he’s staring at you with lidded eyes, arms free to swipe the blankets away from you. You groan in frustration.

“This is hopeless.”

“There are other means of warming me up, if you’re willing.”

You roll your eyes and he laughs, sitting up to speak to you properly. “I’m only cold because you sleep so far away from me. You're practically on the edge of the bed, hanging off.”

“Because I don't want to make you uncomfortable and accidentally touch you without asking!”

He raises a brow at this. “Surely that's not why you avoid me like the bloody plague when we’re resting?”

Sheepishly, you tug the blanket over your legs. He eyes you up and down with a silent pause, before reaching to pull you against him. He leans backwards into the mattress and drags you along with him, which you nearly yelp at though he doesn't seemed fazed himself. With your face pressed against his chest and your legs entangled with his, you can barely let out your voice without making it sound flustered.

“What is this supposed to be?”

“I won't be cold, and you’ll have your blanket this way.”

You feel his skin against yours. “…you’re freezing.” You want to stay like this forever.

“You’ll adjust, love.”

And as he pulls the blanket over the both of you, he clears his throat.

“And for the record,” he mumbles against your temple. “I don't mind if you're the one touching me.”

[justporo]

Astarion sees you're almost falling asleep and will drag you to bed now!

I would need this on like a daily basis. And I guess so do many of you - so let the vampire drag you to bed and GO! GET! SOME! SLEEP!

It was so late it could have been called early. Outside you could already hear the birds chirping, cheerfully greeting a new day. Which meant that it was more than high time to crawl into bed. And doubly so because you lived with a vampire who fared even worse with sunlight than you.

But you were still crouched over your desk and the papers there.

Your eyes were tired. You barely saw what you were working on anymore. And you knew you could get this done when you were fully rested and it would only take a matter of minutes. But you were so desperate to finish this.

Unfortunately, you had a tendency to be very determined (someone else usually called it stubborn but you always pretended you had gone deaf all of a sudden when that happened). But this tendency had brought you this far and probably saved your life more than once. And you wouldn't be bested by this piece of work!

But your head was slowly falling, your eyelids growing as heavy as lead.

And you only jumped back up when you heard that certain someone enter the room, being purposefully noisy to make you aware of it. You were grateful for that because if the vampire had snuck up on you, like he was fully capable of, it might have not ended well with you being this exhausted.

“Slacking off on the job, are we?” you heard his familiar teasing voice as he came closer. You felt his presence as he leaned on the table around you - basically caging you with his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. His lips were awfully close to your ear and the hairs on your neck stood on end as you didn't dare rip your eyes from your work.

“Don't you think this can wait, love?” he whispered now directly into your ear causing a hot and cold shiver to run down your spine.

But with this he had pushed the wrong button. Almost involuntarily you felt one of your eyebrows rise up and your lips forming a pout: “No, Astarion, I don't think it can wait.”

You turned your head around to face him and saw him smirk, making you even more annoyed at him. He leaned in closer, causing his chest to brush against your head now, his hands moved to cover yours.

“Do you really think a stack of papers can't wait more than your caring lover craving your calming touch?” he murmured with a pout that mirrored yours while his deft fingers freed your writing quill out of your angrily clenching fingers. You couldn't resist him long. His hands were used to open up more difficult things than your desperate grip on your writing utensils. Also his absolutely instrumentalized big red eyes he looked at you with were absolutely working their usual enchanting magic on you.

Not enough though for you to not make a snide remark about what was happening.

“Well, for starters the stack of papers doesn't talk back.”

“You think I'm funny, my love.”

“It also isn't as full of itself.”

A mockingly offended gasp while Astarion’s hands moved the papers out of your reach.

“My heart, you hurt me.”

“Ah see, it also doesn't guilt trip me.”

The vampire's hands wandered up over your arms to your shoulders. “I can't do right by you tonight, can I?”

“You could just let me keep working on my thing.”

A dramatic sigh and Astarion let his head fall forward and onto your shoulder. Then he let go of you and took a step back.

“Do you really want to keep working, dear?” he sounded sincere now and you suddenly felt true guilt as you looked at him. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes still awfully wide and shining.

But the urge to not keep business unfinished still had you in its claws.

After a few heartbeats you opened your lips to answer, but-

“Too bad, you're coming with me now, my love.” Astarion exclaimed and with rogue quickness grabbed your chair by the armrests to drag it away from the desk and turn it around to him. “You need your beauty sleep, I can't be seen walking around with a walking corpse!”

You squealed when you felt your body get yanked around so quickly while your tired brain was almost incapable of catching up. Thus you were almost confused when you had ended up on Astarion’s shoulder a moment later.

There was no energy left in your body to resist this infuriating man any longer so you just played the part of dead weight draped over his shoulder - since he had already coined you as such - and couldn't stop yourself from giggling.

“See, darling, I told you: you think I’m funny.”

“It's just sleep deprivation talking.”

“Ah, so you agree with that too.”

You resisted to answer him with something he would only twist around again to fit his agenda. Instead you just slapped his butt you had quite the delectable view of at the moment.

Astarion hissed and just slapped your behind in return. You only giggled more.

“I should have left you at your godsdamned desk, let you fall asleep right there to drool on the papers,” he murmured under his breath and ended it with something about how ungrateful you were while he threw open the bedroom door; your favourite drama queen.

Then he made quick work to get you off his shoulders with an exaggerated groan which you were sure wasn't fully acted.

As soon as your body hit your soft bed the last of your energy decided to evaporate into the aether. You were almost falling over if not for the vampire's quick reflexes catching your wrists.

With quick fingers and more snarky remarks you had no power to reply to anymore he undressed you to your underwear.

And with more overly dramatic groaning and a roll of his eyes since you provided absolutely no help did he turn you to lay down. He carefully placed your head on the pillows which you thanked him for with a dreamy sigh. Your eyes closed on your own. The blanket was thrown over you and more rustling told you that Astarion was quickly undressing as well.

When the mattress shifted under the vampire's weight as he got into bed next to you you barely even noticed it anymore.

With final efforts Astarion dragged you onto his chest. Your arms slung around him and your legs tangled with his automatically - you had done so hundreds if not thousands of times already.

“All this work just to get you where you belong,” Astarion whispered to you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he began rubbing lazy circles on your back. You only hummed contentedly as you felt your body relax fully into him and his touch.

Your last half-coherent thought as you drifted off to sleep was that, indeed, you had to agree with him on this one: you were right where you were supposed to be.

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06

[neckromantics]

Something about the idea of Astarion doing his laundry in the river by camp... his hair kept out of his face by a scrap of fabric that he's fashioned into a headband.... the legs of his trousers rolled up to his calves as he squats, barefoot in ankle deep water.

His expression is far too intense for someone who is only focused on scrubbing away stains. Eyebrows furrowed. Tongue peeking out. Eyes laser locked on that one stubborn drop of blood that doesn't want to come out of the collar of his shirt.

Sometimes, you come with him to do some laundry of your own, and he is not pleased. Not because he doesn't enjoy your company or anything, but because (Gods help you) you're doing it wrong. Which really just means you're not washing your clothes the way he would wash them. Too much soap (what??). Too much water (how?).

Too much force, you absolute barbarian, give those here!

He doesnt even ask. He takes your trousers right out of your hands mid-scrub and starts doing everything for you instead. Complains about how heavy-handed you were and demonstrates the proper way to go about it while you sit on a big rock and grin like a fool.

Yall, I want him so bad I look stupid.

[fangswbenefits]

Unexpected

Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.

Word count: 2.2k

As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.  

He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.

And today was one of those days.

You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.

Typical.

He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.

Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.

He expected fear or a screech.

But no.

She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.

Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.

“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.

You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”

He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.

He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”

Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”

He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.

As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.

Finally.

You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.

“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”

“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”

She chuckled alongside you.

He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”

Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.

“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”

Now that set him off.

“Actually, I have considered it.”

Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.

He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.

But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.

Especially with you being such the motherly type.

His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.

“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.

Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”

How he detested puns.

Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.

“You meant that?”

He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”

You nodded.

“I don't see why not.”

You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.

“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”

Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.

“We can.”

Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”

Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.

He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed. 

“It is possible.”

You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”

As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.

He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.

Just for him.

“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”

As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.

“Want what?”

The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.

He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.

“Do you want me to breed you?”

His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”

Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?

Gods above…

That only served to fuel his lust.

You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips. 

Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”

He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.

“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”

You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.

“And how could you even do such a thing?”

Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?

He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”

Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.

You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.

From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.

The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.

It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.

Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.

You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.

He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.

The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.

With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.

He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.

“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.

But Astarion had something else in mind.

“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”

A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.

But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.

His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.

You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.

“There's a first time for everything, darling.”

Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.

“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.

Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.

He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.

Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire. 

As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.

Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.

Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.

Gods… you were so ready to be bred.

He could feel your arousal.

He could taste it on his tongue.

His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.

Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.

With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.

His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.

He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.

Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.

With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.

You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”

His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.

“There is only one way to find out, darling.”

You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.

Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.

“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”

Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.

His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.

He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.

Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.

From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.

“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.

You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.

Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.

“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.

Your mouth fell open but no words came out.

Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.

He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.

His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.

He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.

Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.

“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.

As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.

You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.

He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.

Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.

As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Do you think it was enough?”

He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”

Masterlist

[amandacanwrite]

I would like to share a few head canons for Gale Dekarios being in love with tav/you. If you liked this one and have a request for another character let me know. These ones have just been percolating for a bit.

In Battle

He tries very hard to stay near you. He doesn’t like it when you go off on your own. He knows he doesn’t quite have the strength of Karlach or the sure footedness of Astarion, but he’s not just going to let you fight everyone on your own.

Sometimes he gets a little hurt that you always put yourself in harms way/take so much of the damage on the battlefield. Don’t you know that losing you would destroy him?

You have never witnessed it, but according to the other party members he goes feral if you’re knocked unconscious.

When you wake up it’s always with your head cradled in his lap as shadowheart works on the worst of the wounds.

He does this thing with his magic where he makes his hands really cold. It feels nice on your feverish skin as he gently smooths your hair away from your face, you don’t know why you feel so nauseous and sweaty after you black out but this little gesture helps you come back smoothly.

He has a hard time sleeping after a rough encounter. He keeps waking up and making sure you’re still breathing. In the end he gives up on sleeping and just reads by the fire, calming his nerves to the sound of your steady, stable breathing.

In Camp

He is hilariously fussy about what you eat.

“No, you ABSOLUTELY CANNOT subsist off of a loaf of bread, three olives and a bottle of wine. We are no longer young scholars barely SCRAPING by—“

Very resourceful when it comes to what you can scrape together out of barrels around camp. You were very skeptical when you watched him putting a variety of different bones into a cauldron as you left him back in camp one day. But you came back to a rich stew full of potatoes, some wild rice and even some cut up apple in the mix.

He likes it when you play with his hair. But he has to very pointedly avoid it if he’s in the middle of reading up on something.

“Darling, are you certain you’re not practiced in the arcane arts? I do think you’ve got some magic in those fingertips of yours, at the very least, with how quickly they can put me to sleep.”

When You’re Alone

It’s simple. He worships you. Perhaps it’s because his last lover was a goddess but it seems to come easy for him; the reverent words, the gentle touches, the utter devotion. Sometimes you catch him just… looking at you. His eyes softly hooded, a relaxed curve to his lips. It’s your favorite to ask what’s on his mind when he looks at you like that.

“Hm? Oh, nothing much. I’ve just been observing. Did you know you purse your lips when you’re reading something that you disagree with? Yes—hah—just like that.”

He loves to read WITH you. Especially loves to show you some of his favorite tomes. He’ll get you all nestled up against him and hold the book down in front of you. He reads much faster than you, so he busies himself kissing behind your ear or playing with your hair until you turn the page.

Gods does he love it when you ask him questions about something to do with magic. He loves watching the glint in your eye when he’s helped you understand something.

You love it when you get him rolling on a topic of theory that you know he doesn’t get to talk about much. Sometimes he loses you when he gets into the minutiae, but he’s so damn cute when he’s ranting about the wonder in the world.

In Intimate Moments

(Potential NSFW below.)

Of course it is not a surprise that he’s a generous lover. What is a surprise is how demanding he can be when he feels like it. He knows you are no stranger to a challenge and he loves to make things more exciting by presenting you with one.

“Of course I’m aware of our companions in camp. But it’s not as if we can afford ourselves more privacy. You’re just going to have to quiet those lovely little sounds you make while I touch you… let’s see… it was here wasn’t it? Ah, ah… shhhh, my love. Those pointy ears of Astarion’s might pick even that tiny sound.”

Gods does he know how to string words together to leave you completely undone.

Sometimes foreplay is mostly talk. He can get you going without even touching you.

“My love, I’ve not been able to stop thinking of the ways I want to touch you all day. Shall I tell you what’s been on my mind?”

His breath tickles against your ear as his hands smooth over your clothed body, telling you how he wants to take you. It’s all the more flustering when you know he always keeps his word.

Love making always starts with a kiss, deep and slow.

You feel him smile into the kiss when he slips his fingers into the front of your trousers and he feels just how aroused he’s made you.

“You are exquisite. A delicacy of the highest quality. Do you know that?”

He’s not one to bang it out for a quickie. He doesn’t like to feel like he’s stealing his time with you, or like he’s a young man again and hastily getting whatever he can before heading back to the dormitories. Every touch, every word, every thrust is slow and deliberate. He wants to relish the feeling of it all. He wants to soak you in.

Somehow, he always smells good. Like cinnamon and tea and… some earthen, herbaceous scent you cant place.

So many cuddles after you’re done.

[brain-rot-central]

Sex Dreamz

Set pre-first intimacy scene, but after the bite scene so you know he's a vampire.

Rating: E Pairing: Fem!Reader x Astarion Summary: Astarion is trancing but ends up having a sex dream about you both during his trance. His tadpole, unbeknownst to him, begins signaling to you to join in on his dream. The next day, he has absolutely no idea you saw everything the night before, and tries playing it off like he still has the complete upper hand.

Enjoy reading! There's a fun twist in this. 👀

CW: dubcon - inappropriate use of tadpole, voyeurism, accidental voyeurism, not sure if this falls under the bdsm umbrella but I'll flag it, PiV, creampie

Sleep avoids you this night.

Your mind is racing, trying to process all that has happened over the last three weeks. You feel as though you've aged a lifetime in such a small span of time.

A soft rustling from your vampire companion jolts you from your thoughts. He chose to trance tonight, telling you earlier in the evening that he, too, had a lot to take in regarding their journey.

Yet, in the three weeks you've been together, you can't recall Astarion ever being so… animated in this state.

You're human, a soldier for the City Watch. You've little to no idea how trancing for elves works. To you, it's akin to sleeping. Astarion explained it once to you before, but it was in one ear, out the other by the time he reached the conclusion. You still remember the scowl on his face after you'd told him you didn't understand a word he just said.

He was really cute when he got flustered.

You watch him twitch again, his face now bunching up into a wince. Air is pushed from his nostrils in a quick huff as his head comes to rest toward one side. His face relaxes.

Is he… dreaming?

Can you even dream while trancing?

You're about to turn over to attempt some sleep when a warm caress begins to envelop your mind. The tadpole quivers within your skull.

It recognizes the intruder.

“Astarion?” your brain asks. You look over to your companion laying on the ground adjacent to you. You don't receive acknowledgement from him, though the warm embrace still remains.

His tadpole is asking to join yours.

Why would he want that, you wonder? Was he even aware? You close your eyes and lay back, allowing your mind to meld with his.

You're looking up at a young woman on top of you. She's grinding herself in your lap, cheeks stained red by the blush creeping up from her neck. Her lips are puffy, her jaw slack as soft moans fall from her throat with each rise and fall of her hips. Hands are gripping her thighs, fingertips sinking into the plush flesh, helping guide her rhythm.

It takes you a moment to realize that the hands on this woman's thighs are not your own. You look down to the apex of your thighs, astonished to find that this woman was spearing herself repeatedly over a cock, which was, in fact, not your own.

Finally, your eyes move up the woman's body. Her skin was pale and freckled, not unlike your own. Her thighs trailed up to widened hips, her hips narrowing a bit at the waist. Her breasts fall full and heavy from her chest; again, not much unlike your own.

It isn't until you see the woman's hair that it hits you.

This woman wasn't some random woman.

This woman was you.

Another realization washes over you: you're not looking from your own point of view.

You're looking at yourself from Astarion's point of view.

The cock between your thighs is Astarion's.

Astarion is having a sex dream… about you.

You feel everything through your tadpole connection. Your warm, tight, velvet heat pulling on his cock as you bounce in his lap. The weight of your hands splayed on his chest for balance. The sensation under his nails as they dig into the skin of your thighs.

You feel the rhythmic pull behind his pubic bone resonate within yourself. Your own mouth falls open simultaneously with his, his eyes rolling back into his skull behind hooded lids as his hips drive mindlessly into your core, chasing more of the sensation.

He looks down at the place you're joined and groans. You can see how much of a sopping mess he's made you, the length of him slick with your arousal. He places a thumb upon the swollen nub between your thighs, rubbing it in a circular pattern.

You watch through Astarion's eyes as your body convulses at this new sensation, feeling how your walls contract around him. He bends his legs at the knees and briefly places his hands on either side of your waist, tilting you back to rest against the tops of his thighs.

You throw your head back as his hips piston up into your core. He's gritting his teeth now, jaw tense as the coiling in his lower abdomen winds tighter. Your hands fly to the tops of his knees to hold yourself steady, a string of moans falling from your lips as the head of his cock catches repeatedly on that one spot that makes your vision turn white.

With one well angled thrust you're suddenly hanging over him, shouting out your pleasure as it rips up your spine. Astarion takes this opportunity to wrap his arms around your upper back, holding you tightly as he fucks you through your orgasm. His lips brush against the crook of your neck and he pants into your skin, leaning your head in a silent offering.

Astarion wastes little time. Shards of ice pierce the supple flesh of your neck as his canines rip through into your vein. You taste your blood on his tongue as it flows freely into his mouth. It's sweet, floral; a rush of heat shoots up Astarion's abdomen and the coil snaps. He's spilling over the edge, your walls still massaging his length with the remnants of your climax. He fucks his spend deeper into you with short snaps of his hips.

He unlatches from your neck, lapping up the small rivulets of blood that seep from your punctures, sighing in satisfaction as he finally lays his head back against the ground under him.

The connection suddenly breaks.

You're laying on your bedroll, as you had been prior, the embers of the fire before you flickering dully. You look over to the vampire laying off to your side. He looks… relieved. His face is relaxed, his breathing at an even tempo. Your eyes travel further down his form and catch the outline of… something, pushing against the front of his breeches.

A damp patch can be seen toward the head of the object; it takes your lust-clouded brain a minute to realize that object was indeed Astarion's cock, and that damp spot was his essence leaking from its tip, surely the result of his recent dream.

Yet, he remains entranced.

Did he really have no idea what just happened? Did he really not know his tadpole had revealed his thoughts?

The next day, while you're making your way to the Goblin Camp, Astarion pulls you briskly to the side. “Darling,” he begins, “I was just thinking about you!”

He continues on, telling you how he's “grown to like the whole package,” tells you he would like to share an evening with you. His voice is posh with a sort of sensuality to it, cool and completely composed.

It dawns on you that he's completely clueless as to what happened the night before. Completely ignorant of the fact that you know how he lusts for you.

You agree to his proposition, and he vows to meet you later tonight at someplace intimate after the others have fallen asleep. The tips of your fingers and toes tingle with anticipation of your fated encounter.

If it's to be anything like his dream, you simply cannot wait for the sun to set.

[ooogaboogabeepbop]

The Ball

(Image is NOT mine, it’s from Kate Kotova’s YouTube Community.)

Astarion x F!reader

Word count: A LOOOTTT

First time writing so please give any constructive criticism. Tell me if Astarion is out of character or whatnot. Here I wanted him to be pretty frustrated so he’s rougher than usual. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS.

Summary: You were getting ready for a ball until Astarion randomly fucks you into oblivion.

Warnings: use of gross words, cervix fucking, VERY rough sex, extreme discomfort, neediness, blood, ruined makeup, anger, cnc, pain, tears, ripping of clothing, weird inconsistent pov, scent, breeding kink, cringe writing, past trauma, voyerism, harsh choking, lots of eye rolling, short sentences, regret

——————-

The edge of the drawer dug into your ribs harshly and the pain was becoming intolerable. Your palms flat against the waxed wood, pushing against the weight behind you. You winced when the figure behind pressed harder into you, being far from comfortable. It was like talking to a brick wall when you opened your mouth to speak. He was stuck in a deep trance involving your scent, and the unsteady beating of your heart. All he could hear was the hammering of the pulse and you smelled and looked absolutely amazing. Beyond amazing. Astounding. The way your dress fitted you perfectly. Breasts threaten to burst out of the dress, almost overflowing from the top. Your cleavage being the most prominent part of your whole get up, other than the accessories. The dress was white with laces on the rim surrounding your breasts, and on the end of your clothing as well. The outfit shimmered and was made to stand out from the others in the ball. The jewelry was what really stole the show though, dangle earrings, waist chain over the fancy fabric, bracelet, and a pearled necklace. You were adorned head to toe, your beauty would stun the crowd. Yet Astarion has you here, secured in his grip. It’s like he didn’t want anyone to see you in such a glamorous outfit. Someone could steal you away. It has been a while since Astarion initiated such intimate touching. With his view on sex tainted, you withheld from being inappropriate in any way. Worried about scaring him away, or reminding him of anything unpleasant. You stuck to loving words and affections that he so eagerly accepted and appreciated. The man was madly in love, and you, yourself. You showered him in so much care that it perplexed him. He only imagined or dreamed of being looked out for during years of hell, and never thought that it would actually come to fruition.

His nose and lips firmly pressed against your neck, providing soft kisses here and there. Cold breath sends shivers through your body. It was like a chilly winter breeze, making your hair stand. The kisses were sloppy, leaving small trails of saliva up and down your throat. You had an expensive perfume on, a bitter flavor to the tongue that he did not seem to mind. Too engrossed in this moment to care, wanting to feel and taste more. Maybe he liked the combination of the perfume and the flavor of your skin. Grabbing the arm that was locked around your waist, you squeeze, giving him a small warning to stop. The ball had already started, he promised to take you out dancing and flaunt your beauty to everyone there and show that you were his. It appears he regretted this decision. You were excited to sway and spin, to be close to him and your companions. You longed to see the others and the others wanted to see you too. You wanted to see the lights and the decorations. To see just how fancy the place was.

“I want to greet everyone.” You say, with his arms still locked around you. You tried excusing yourself to not remind him of ugly recollections. Trying not to have him cringe in disgust at any possible moment. Even with all of his confessions, he still held 200 years of secrets and uncomfortable experience that he was not willing to share. His coldness migrated behind your ear, hearing his sharp inhale. Very touchy this evening. What has him so worked up? Was he okay?

“They will see you soon enough, my love. Be patient.” He assured whilst rubbing his face against you, groaning, trying to lock in all of your musk mixed with perfume. He was ravenous. Mouth agape. A strong hand traced your left arm all the way up to your shoulder, and flipped the few wisps of your hair to the other side. Kisses now traced your jaw. Lips dry and chapped, moisture gone from the smooches. You could see the white curls come into view. Body flush against yours like a mold. Pale hands gripping your waist harshly and angling them to have the curve of your ass on his groin. “You look like an absolute treat tonight.” You could feel how each roughened finger dug deep to the point of almost hurting. Oh how you loved this. You missed his touch. Whether it be soft or hard, you still managed to enjoy yourself. Every movement made warmth course through you. Unexpectedly, he pricked your skin with one singular fang and licked the sweet red bead that came out with a sigh. Driving him crazy. Cool tongue teasing the sharp pain.

You grabbed the curls and ripped his lips off you.

“How about you be patient?” Your grip was firm, hurting his sensitive scalp. He hissed and even dared to flashed his fangs at you.

“You are hurting me.” You say bitterly. He presses less of his weight against you, letting you finally breathe better. But still being sandwiched between him and the drawer caused a sting.

“Still hurting me…”

He reluctantly pulls back, not much, but enough to keep the edge of the drawer from biting at your skin.

“I am starving—“ Words nothing but a whisper.

“I can tell.”

“Well be a dear, and give me just one bite?” He asked with honeyed words and puppy eyes.

“It’s never just one bite with you, Star.”

His hands roamed your body through your white dress, pawing at your breast, then down in between your thighs. The dress being an annoying obstacle.

“Oh how I missed you.” He sighs. You giggle at his words while you twirl a strand in your finger. It has not been long at all. He was quite literally in the other room while you did your makeup. And before that, both of you organized and planned your outfits for the day of the party together. You look over your shoulder with a smirk and a raised brow.

“Star, I was simply getting ready for the ball. I won’t take much longer.” You take a glimpse at his attire. All white, matching yours. The turtle neck, the colors, the swirls and patterns of his suit were all beautiful. Just like him. The shoulder pads that pronounced his shoulders. And his broad chest. You wanted to run your hands up and down his muscular figure but he firmly held you locked in place. He leaned into you again, though not as hard as before, your back arching to accommodate his body. Grinding on your bum. Noticing just how steel hard he was, your knees shook and your heels almost gave out.

“One bite? It won’t take long, love.” The man was hungry despite being fed the day before.

“Yes.” He immediately dives in and pierces your jugular. Fangs cause a sharp sting that makes you flinch. He will feed, then the two of you can finally go to the ball. Not wanting to suck you dry, he took shallow gulps. A moan rumbled from his chest and it vibrated through you. Astarion looked so hot with his composure uncharacteristically broken. The blood dribbling from the puncture being the sweetest he's ever savored. It was like some form of drug. Astarion’s favorite medicine. Faint whines of his satisfaction adding to the wetness below. You could see his brows knit together in concentration from the corner of your eye. Savoring you. He continued to rub your cunt through your dress while your hips circled to increase the pace that was set. He was too distracted to notice the teasingly slow speed of his fingers. Or maybe not. Perhaps he was deliberately trying to drive you insane. The friction of your panties and dress mixed with his talented digits made your clit throb. Your hand pushed his down, trying to create more traction to satisfy your need. Your hips still managed to gyrate even under his hold, rubbing right up on his erection. You moved faster against him, earning a whine from your vampire's throat. The hard rod pressed to your bum had you yearning for more. He kept moaning. Large pale hands traveled up to the very start of your dress and roughly pulled down, ripping the clothing and bra with it. The initial sound of the rippage filling the room with its sheer force. You shrieked as your tits suddenly jumped out of its confinements. Bouncing from its vicious release. Soft and supple skin, round and pretty nipples. Your outfit is in complete tatters.

“Astarion!” You shouted. Visibly upset. Such a beautiful dress put to waste. You waited months for this dress to be tailored, for its patterns and shimmers to be suited into it. So happy to try it on, so happy the way it hugged your curves when you got your hands on it. You attempted to turn to scold the ever living shit out of him but he held you in place with his strength. “Ugh!” You leered down at the irreversible mess and felt your face grow hot with rage. Then you looked into the mirror at the sight. Your nipples out in the open. How you wished to see him behind you, to see the dark and lustful red eyes looking deep into yours. What's gotten him so wild? Shifting his gaze towards your tits through the mirror, he moaned at the view of you. Quickly moving his palms onto your plump flesh; his big hands dwarfing both mounds. Astarion squeezed and played to his heart's desire and all you did was watch. Pliant skin caving and yielding. You were angry, livid, exasperated but… when was the last time he’s sought you out to touch you so sensually? When was the last time he felt okay with pleasure? You would put your anger aside, albeit begrudgingly, for this rare occasion. You were gonna give him hell afterwards though. Have him pay for the dress AGAIN and some complaining. It felt amazing, having him play, grope, and gently dig his fingers in. Savoring you. Passionately massaging them. You were upset. So upset. But you loved the touch. He was disorganized and chaotic which was so uncommon of him. Eventually, once you’ve calmed, your hands combine with his large ones, joining in on the fun. Then you realized something. The door to the room was open. Your head swirled to its direction and you were able to hear the distant chatter. Terror took a hold of you.

“Star. Stop. They will see.” Your concerns meant nothing to him though even when you pushed. He was too lost in you to even care. A huff was his only response. His fangs soon left you and he raised his head to nip at your ear. The blood from the wound seeped into your pearled necklace.

“I am being serious.” He grabbed your face, the skin indenting in his strong grip, and turned it enough to give you a searing kiss. The smooch was slippery from the gloss and the lipstick stained him, mixing with the blood he took from you. You sighed at the way his lips pressed upon yours. He parted his lips and snaked his tongue in your mouth, drawing an obscene moan as you unhinged your jaw for him. The blend of lipstick, gloss, blood, and the perfume he kissed off was rather tart. You opened your eyes and looked into the mirror. You looked so lewd. Both of you panted into the kiss. His left hand still played with your breast. His right hand grabbed yours and placed it flat against the wood, fingers interlocking. Astarion abandoned your mouth and licked long strides up your neck, cleaning the remaining blood then proceeded to give more pecks to it.

“What is this all about, Star?”

“I simply crave you little love. Is that so bad?”

“You ruined my dress. It was so glamorous…I waited months for this you damned bastard.”

“I’ll have another one made, my treasure.” He did not seem phased by your anger. The glam clothing was being pulled and balled up, enough to show your plush thighs. Wearing stockings and lingerie underneath. You half expected to fuck, just not so early.

“My, my. What’s this all about, dear?” He repeated your question from earlier as nimble fingers ran along the stockings. You blushed deeply at his words. Hands fixed on your butt. Delicately rubbing.

“Astarion, the door. Least close the door.” He pushed your face against the drawer, and raised the rest of your dress, showing your pretty ass. The fabric laid right above your hips. He slapped it hard. Another one came after that with full force. The sting was so intense tears began to form. No, you were not going to cry with how much effort you put into your makeup. He grumbled at your request.

“Not a chance. Where else will I get my warmth from? Karlach? Lae’zel?” He tsked. Red marks adorned your bum now from the manhandling. Blood rushing and heating the stinging flesh.

The warmth radiating onto his icy palms pleased him as it made a nice contrast. “You know, It gets quite cold being undead, darling.” Pouting as he feigned sadness.

“I will still be here once you come back. It's just mere feets away! Plus I'm sure Karlach wouldn't mind sharing her never ending heat.”

“Ah, but that would be no fun. Truthfully, the possible thrill of being caught excites me to no end…and I believe it does the very same to you too, darling.” He said, slipping the panties to the side to expose you. “I can tell just by your heartbeat.” He murmured. You purred when his rough thumb slithered up and down your wet slit. You sway your waist to taunt his desire. Without warning, he soon rooted two digits deep inside to prepare you to fuck hard. The sudden intrusion caused you to bite your lip. He grazed and memorized each ridge of your soggy cunt, especially the spongy part. You grinded in tandem to his fingers but it wasn’t enough.

“Then please, hurry up.” you whimper. He hummed.

“Since you asked nicely.” He caressed the bud halfheartedly. Swiftly he lost interest then pulled his fingers out. You could hear the belt buckle and his pants unfasten.

He slid all the way into your gummy walls with a loud hiss. You felt incredibly full, so stretched out and already worn from his dick. Cunt squeezing and contracting, trying to adjust to the fullness. You were so overwhelmed that it made you dizzy. Your pussy ravenously swallowed his thick dick which was not helping with your lightheadedness. The tip of his cock snuggling your cervix, causing your knees to weaken.Good thing he was holding you up. There was an impossibly deep, deep want inside your walls that set you ablaze. The feeling so intense your legs wobbled more. The desire was gut wrenching, so powerful and desperately needed his cock. He was fully sheathed but it was not enough. You needed him to move, drag and stroke himself along slick walls. Your clit throbbed. Placing your fingers onto the bundle of nerves you spun quick circles that briefly had your eyes roll. You couldn’t wait anymore and began to throw yourself back on him, forcing a garbled moan out of him. Both of you needed to get this over with fast. Cursing yourself for falling into your own desires as easily as he did. All he had to do was close the door but no. He loves risks and this situation made his dick painfully hard for him. What is pleasure without a little pain? You imagined him saying. He observed you like a hawk, watching you fuck yourself. Hearing him gulp then heave faster. His mouth was open, curls misplaced (from his usual hairdo), and brows knitted together again… A deafening laughter came from the halls when you began to panic. You stopped to peer at the cracked open door. He tightly grabbed onto your waist and pressed his thumbs into your back dimples, treating them as thumb holders. The first thrust was hard. You were caught off guard when your body lunged forward, causing objects to fall from the desk you leaned on. The laughing paused. Then the next one was even harder. He barely even started and tears began to sting in your eyes. His hair now falling towards his face, ruining his perfect pomade. Each movement he made, his locks swiftly followed. You felt the way his cock hauled to and fro. He knew how tight and warm you were but it always left him in shambles. Your walls clenched, subduing his bulging veins, and molding his dick on each thrust. He wanted to cum. He wanted to be deeper. He wanted to be one with you. Anxiety was through the roof but, thankfully, the people accompanying the halls continued with their conversation. All your attention was on the door where all the sounds originated from. The pace changed as you tried to listen for any footsteps.

Then all of a sudden he trembled and went stiff. He placed his chest against you for leverage. Lowering his head, listening how each breath was a struggle for him. You could see his wet curls in your peripheral vision. You turned your head to look.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You asked with genuine fear in your heart. Endless questions began to flood in your head. What if he didn’t want it? What if he regretted this decision? What if a bad memory was prompted? Was he disgusted by the thoughts of long ago?

“I’m close.” He choked out, “I need you to come first.” You found yourself relieved that he wasn’t uncomfortable. He was far from it. He withheld his own pleasure though, choosing to serve you before anything else. Being used to lifelong servitude and to pleasing others, it was only natural to him. This was going to change eventually. Astarion was walking on a thin line and quickly losing his balance. It took all his will and power just not to cum deep in your womb. He was right on the edge, so close all he needed was a push. You whined and wiggled your hips.

“Do not move.” He ordered, cock violently twitching inside you and mouth pulled into a snarl.

“Just cum!” You could see his head shake from the corner of your vision, “please!” You lifted your face from the drawer and held onto the wood the best you could. Your hips snapped back into him. He threw his head back and groaned loudly as if it pained him.

“Please, please, please, please!” You continued to beg. He was seconds from bursting just from your pleading. Your manicured nails drove deep marks on the drawer and the mirror began to shake back and forth. Your rapid breath fogged up the reflection in front of you and blocked the view. You kept going faster. Your earrings swayed back and forth with all the movement, along with your long necklace that was repeatedly bumping against your breasts. His whole body weight was on you now, ceasing your thrusts, and he placed himself deep inside. The drawer was back to painfully jabbing at you and it kept you from breathing properly. And whatever air trapped in your lungs was forced out of you when he rammed into you one last time. His cockhead glued to your cervix when he blew his fat load into you. His eyes went wide. Hair completely down. He looked like he was dying and ascending at the same time then damn near screamed.

He leaned back to give your aching bones some rest with a sweaty forehead against your shoulder. He was groaning even past his orgasm. You reached up to caress him.

“My star. I really wanted to go to the ball.” You sigh. He held onto your breasts again and pinched your nipples. “Are you not done?” Your makeup was ruined and so was your dress. You didn’t even get to cum either. But that was okay, as long as he relished in himself for once.

“Not quite. I’m sorry, darling. I’m sure there’s a spare dress.” He lifted his head and applied soft kisses to your cheeks

“Star, I really liked this dress.”

“I am sorry, my treasure.”

“This occasion was important to me.”

“I’m sorry…” It’s not often he would apologize. “Please, one more…” He sounded so weak and shattered. His head against your back just huffing and puffing. He held onto your waist, lovingly running with thick fingers down your exposed skin. Your skin was squishy compared to his rough finger pads. He was still hard and deep within you, his tip still cuddling your cervix. Another sigh escaped your lips, and you felt your clit throb again. Still unsatisfied. Your eyebrows arched upwards at the sensation. He wanted more and so did you. He felt so good just being seated inside you with his cum seeping out of you, most likely staining his pants and traveling down his balls. You could feel the stretch his thick dick provided to your abused walls. The same familiar feeling of want was still coiled up within, you needed release so badly. You wanted him to fuck it out of you. You bit your lip and looked into the mirror. Pretending to see his own reflection standing behind you. The thought of it made you clamp down on him and you both moaned. You turned your head and looked into his cat-like eyes. His broken voice did not match the way he was glaring at you. Seeming possessive.

Astarion pressed your back against his chest and your lips instinctively pressed on his jaw when he did so. When he pulled out, you could feel his cum spill between your thighs. Must’ve been very pent up. He moved his hand up towards the torn dress that was clinging to your hips, and tried to pass it down your legs, but the waist chain kept it from doing so. He ripped the pearled chain, and the beads fell onto the floor with the dress itself. The torn material was a tripping hazard that pooled around your feet. You didn’t even try to express your anger since he wouldn’t have acknowledged it. The only clothing you had on was the lace panties, the stockings, the jewelry, and your high heels. The vampire behind you was still completely clothed. You could still sense his icy coolness even through the layers of his attire. Your slim hand went down to begin playing with your clit.

His arm wrapped around your waist as the other slid his dick back inside you. Your pussy welcomed him hungrily. Your other hand grabbed onto his strong forearm as he began his thrusts. You kissed his jaw and cheeks, staining them a nice red with the remaining pigment you had on your lips. Astarion shut his eyes for a brief moment, cherishing in your care. He felt overwhelmed with love and lust. He had no idea how to express it. You were the best thing that’s happened to him. Finally someone who would put him first. Providing him soft affection and kind words even when he thought he didn’t deserve it. Being treated so kindly angered him in a way. The way you kissed him was so gentle compared to the way he was fucking you. Astarion felt guilty for rutting into you so harshly, but he couldn’t contain what he was feeling. Whatever that feeling was.

He looked down to watch as you played with yourself. Seeing your hand movements down between your breasts. Each thrust had them bounce. Your mascara ran down your flushed cheeks as your lipstick smeared against your chin and nose. Your eyeshadow and liner was smudged as well. It was all a mess and he loved it. He loved this. He loved you. Something so beautiful ravaged by him. Astarion kept going and wouldn’t stop; he couldn't. Not with the way your walls eagerly swallowed him. How it would squeeze down on him everytime he pulled back, asking him not to leave. You were velvety, tight, and wet. Feeling every ridge and every flutter. Felt your legs shake and wobble. He sensed how you would progressively compress on him the closer you got. Barely even able to shove himself fully into you. The tip kept hitting that perfect spot, the spot that had your eyes rolling and he kept striking and beating it devastatingly fast. You stopped kissing him, having a hard time breathing through the vicious motions. You can’t think. Everything was a blur and you felt dizzy. Your pretty nails dug into his forearm without a care in the world. The sound of your hips meeting was far too loud, anyone with ears would be able to listen. You tried your best to stay quiet, but the hits Astarion kept giving was blowing your cover. The slapping was loud, the way the desk rumbled was loud, the way the mirror shook was loud and each time it trembled it would hit the wall. You hoped the music was deafening enough to muffle everything while he was giving you a throrough fuck. Completely surrendering yourself to him. Taking him so well. Your hair was all over your face now, whisps sticking to sweat, to tears, and to gloss. The edge of the drawer was pinching the hand that was between your legs and it hurt, squishing your arm. Astarion began to lean forwards now which made it even worse making your nails dig deeper into his sleeved arm to brace yourself. He was never this rough before. One hand came up and moved your hair out of the way to smooch you.

“Good pet.” He whispered rasply. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. He bended further into you. Not only did the drawer now hurt your arm but it went back to crushing your ribs. You were on your tippy toes from the positioning and positive that your heels were breaking. Your fingers rubbed quick circles on your clit while he plowed through you, which had a sob escape you. You’ve been trying to keep quiet. Despite the other ruckus the both of you have been doing, the last thing you wanted was someone hearing you delighting yourself in such a publicly debauched way. He himself wasn’t holding back though. Anyone would be able to hear him panting. You were doing this to him. It all felt so wrong but it only further encouraged the throbbing in your core. He let a long, pained groan go while baring his teeth. The sharp fangs gleamed in the light as he slowly glided his tongue over them. He was frustrated and wanted this to last longer.

“Gonna cum again?” You tease.

“Yes.” His eyes were wide now as he slammed in. He looked crazed. Like a rabid animal chasing his own high. White silver hair framing his sculpted features. Red orbs peering through the strands. He was actually enjoying himself. Actually enjoying sex without the weight of his past bearing down on him. That realization made you gush. Eyes rolling as you felt his (previous) cum and wetness drip down your ankles.

“Yeah?” You coo.

“Yes.”

“Then do it. Fuck your child into me. Do it. Fuck me.” You said through gritted teeth. You didn’t mean for it to sound like a command and it made your heart drop the second those words left your mouth. You could only hope at the moment that he was okay with it. You were going to apologize until he jerked your hair back and forced your face upwards. Unleashing something primal the second you finished that sentence. He wanted you to bear his child even if it was an impossible feat. Astarion hates kids but the thought drove him mad and he was willing to give you everything you desired. He kept pulling until you were able to look into his red eyes. Towering over you. You could see just how deranged he appeared. Consumed by passion. The insatiable hunger that radiated off his cold body was intoxicating. Your back was impossibly arched now and you felt like you were gonna snap in half. Even more so whenever he bucked his hips. The severe pain on your arm made you abandon your needy clit.

“Yeah? Like that, darling? Huh? Just like that?” You couldn’t say a word. Not one. The ache in your ribs, back, scalp and neck was intolerable but you needed him to cum. To not care about anything else but his own pleasure. You could feel his dick pummeling through your guts and mistreating your cervix. Somehow you were still reaching your high.

“This is what you want? Huh? Yes? No? Tell me.” He spoke but it didn’t mean anything. All words lost their meaning. Astarion was fucking your brains out. The heels broke under his ministrations. He was wrecking everything. Your vision went blurry from the tears, they kept spilling and wouldn’t stop. You were going to cum crying. You were gonna cum just like this.

“So cockdumb you can’t even answer me?” The eye contact was driving you both crazy. The view he had was so fucking hot you wouldn’t believe it. His cum stained balls smacking your clit with each hit. You grounded your cunt against him just to grind your clit against his balls and you rolled your hips for more. Finally your bundle of nerves was getting the attention it deserved. Your mouth was open, spilling silent cries when your eyes moved to the back of your head. No longer able to stare into his blown pupils. He gruffed in anger and grabbed you by the throat instead of your hair.

“Look at me.” He told you as his hand squeezed ruthlessly. You listened. “There you go, my sweet little treat. You’re taking me so well.” Astarion smiled down at you villainously, teeth white and shiny. Silver hair all over the place. Eyes manic. He was fucking mental. Juices flowed down as you came, If his pants were not ruined before, it was ruined now. You came looking deep into his soul, violently trembling and jolting in snapped heels. You needed to scream but couldn't because of the choking. Mouth opened and closed for air. The tear soaked makeup slightly burned when it slipped into your eyes. Veins pulsing the best it could despite the blockade Astarion’s ivory hands gave. Your head was hurting and thumping and your palms laid on what was in front for any form of support. Once again your nails worked itself into the wooden drawer leaving behind more horrible marks in its wake.

Astarion fucked your beaten pussy past your orgasm. Back being all sorts of blown out. Your walls were milking his dick and balls, begging for his seed to flood your womb and hoping to knock you up. It made him grip your throat even tighter. Your Adam’s apple tried bobbing up and down to swallow up any breath you could seek. In his point of view your face was a light scarlet because of the lack of oxygen, with a vein protruding from your forehead. Him mistreating you, and you letting him sent shivers up his spine. He let go once your vision almost faded and blurred, then brutally drove his fangs into your neck. You gasped for air when he unclasped, somewhat because of the sudden pain and mostly because of the choking. Having large amounts of air fill your lungs helped you regain vision. The mirror was no longer foggy and you could get a good view of the situation. You were in tatters. Hair. Makeup. Outfit. Embarrassment creeped in with just how fucked out and shameless you seemed. Is this what you really looked like? Or was the mirror playing tricks? Is this what Astarion has been seeing this whole time? How depraved and disgusting. He loved the view though. Your jewelry, tits, and locks kept moving with the thrusts. But with the aggressive and speedy drinking, your sight would blur up in no time. And with your desperate breathing, the mirror would soon fog up again. The tang in your blood was sweeter than before and his fangs pushed further in to drain you better. Astarion was properly feeding this time and didn’t hold back in greedily sucking you up. Every muscle was sore and you were surely going to pass out. Then the taste of euphoria in your blood made him burst. Abruptly grabbing onto your breast, his yell was muffled since his teeth were still latched. He jerked with each rope of cum he shot into you. The tip probing and nuzzling your spent cervix. You let out a long moan when he started filling you to the brim a second time.

“Fuck. I'm sorry…” Astarion wiped your tears away when he came to his senses. Heavy pants mixing together. Your body was in horrible pain and limp but you felt joy in bringing him pleasure. He nuzzled you while skimming his fingers on the dark bruises kindly. “I’m so sorry darling. I don’t know what possessed me. I’ll make it up to you… what do you want to eat? I’ll bring food to you.” The marks on your neck began to show and he felt intense regret. How could he lose himself like this? How could he treat you this way? To someone he loved and appreciated so vastly? “Please forgive me, my love.” He said, fear in his trembling voice. He fucked up badly.

“Gods…” he whispered. You slumped onto the desk. Astarion was going to be hellbent on compensating you for the harm he had done.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Well, yes, but—“

“Then it’s okay.”

“No. It is not okay. I am truly sorry. Do not try to validate my actions. I am so sorry about the ball, darling.”

“Yeah, you’re an asshole for tearing my dress and for breaking your promise to take me dancing.” You admitted as he embraced you. “But you can make it up to me by buying me a new dress. AND by giving me lots of cuddles. If you’re up for it.” You offer.

“Of course, my treasure, how could I say no?”

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Astarion When You're Injured•°

On the one hand, oh no, his beloved is hurt.

On the other, gods is he turned on.

Now if you were actually at deaths door, that would be different.

Astarion would be a nervous, furious, tear stained wreck. Worrying that he'd lose the single most important thing in his cursed existence.

The one thing that truly matters in his life. You.

But, if you're injured from just the run of the mill scrapes you get yourself into? Well that's fair game for him to be horny as all hell.

The way you wince when you roll up your shirt, a stab wound gouged into your abdomen.

How the blood trickles down to your breeches and stains your flesh, the crimson glinting in the slant of moonlight coming in from your partially open tent...

He'll feel his pants grow tight.

"Darling, I know you're injured and probably aren't in the mood but I must say you look positively scrumptious right now."

Astarion will watch you like a hawk as you stumble about your tent, looking for alcohol, bandages, a needle and thread.

The way you bite your lip to stifle yet another whimper, the sweet scent of your blood in the air. He licks his lips.

Oh, he could just eat you right up.

"Kitten, you've got to stop whimpering and groaning unless you want me to ravage you this instant."

When Astarion sees you go to clean yourself up though, he'll be absolutely affronted.

"Ah, ah. Don't you dare grab that rag, my dear. Have you forgotten about little old me? I could clean the blood off of you far better."

He'll say, sinking down to his knees before you. Have no fear though, the vampire will lick your wound til not a single leaking drop of your blood is left.

"This really gets you going?"

You'll ask, bracing your hands upon his shoulders for balance, your skin tingling from his attentive mouth. He's so skilled that you've nearly forgotten about the pain. Nearly.

"Well, my sweet, I could do without the you getting stabbed part but how can I resist when you're dripping red in front of me? You don't know the effect you have on me."

Astarion won't be selfish enough to ask you to take care of the little, well big, problem in his pants however.

He loves you dearly and he is here to help, in anyway he can.

You are injured and he understands that what you need from him isn't unbridled passion but sincere affection.

He will offer to stitch you up himself, seeing as your wound is in an awkward position and you can't really see it unless you're in front of a mirror.

The pale elf will tell you to lie down while he practically straddles you to get closer to the afflicted area.

Crimson eyes twinkling, fangs pearly and white as he smiles but he'll be gentle.

Threading through your raw skin carefully and giving your thigh a few affirming squeezes with his other hand when you gasp.

"See, pet? Aren't I just the best lover you've ever had? Flesh isn't so different from fabric and my stitches are perfect, wouldn't you say?"

Afterwards he'll wrap your stomach in bandages and get you anything you need.

Medicine to make you feel better and of course, all the recuperation time you need.

So much so that if the others in your camp need you that he will shove them out of your tent and order them to leave you be.

You'll not be leaving your bed for awhile that's for sure. Not while he's here to act as your nurse.

When you ask him to lay in bed with you, Astarion will give you one of his rare, tender smiles. Genuine with no mischief.

The fact that you need him and want him near is still a marvel to him.

It warms his ice cold spawn heart.

Makes him feel things he hasn't felt in 200 years.

"Oh, alright. My body is yours, in more ways than one."

Astarion will joke, flirtatious smirk slotting back into place along his mouth but he'll slip into bed without a fuss.

Your head resting on his chest, him mindful of your wrapped up abdomen.

Once you've had your medicine, rejuvenating sleep will call to you but before that you whisper how much you love him. Your words quiet in the night, against his ruffled shirt.

He'll hear you all the same and it disarms him.

"I love you too, sweetheart. You have to learn to be more thoughtful of yourself. Can't have you dying on me, now can I?"

Astarion's voice velvet, his fingers tracing abstract patterns along your back.

In his comforting embrace your eyelids droop, the pain a distant throb that you wish to have pass. His cold chest soothing against your flushed, exhausted cheek.

He'll pull you even closer, if that's possible and kiss the crown of your head.

"Sleep now, darling. I'll be here with you. Always."

[graveyardcuddles]

Breakfast in Bed

A/N: just a dadstarion drabble. feeding as a love language. mdni.

word count: ~ 3000

tags/warnings: sfw, shameless fluff, soft spawn astarion, baby fic, mentions of reader being pregnant in past tense, breastfeeding, soft blood-drinking (? lol), tav reader, mom reader, soft vampire romance, hints of angst, just lots of sweetness, playing fast and loose with dnd lore about dhampirs and vampires.

You're enjoying a rare deep sleep when a small yet powerful sound jolts you into a state of semi-consciousness with alarming urgency. You can barely register your own body around you, attempting to roll and shift. Suddenly, you feel a familiar cool hand touch your shoulder. "Shhh, it's alright, love. I've got her."

Astarion. He must have sensed your panic at your daughter's cries before he even had the chance to grab her himself. You sigh in relief as he quickly moves to soothe her.

"Gods below, whatever could be making that absolutely hideous sound? Has a little gremishka gotten into our home?" He says with a heavy dose of sarcasm as he pads over to her cot.

Untangling yourself from the bedding, you open your eyes just in time to see Astarion gently lifting your tiny daughter out of her bassinet.

"Darling, waking up your mother so early?" He tuts. "And here I was hoping to make this a peaceful morning."

Despite his mock scolding, his expression betrays the softness of his eyes, wide with adoration. His lips curl upwards in a carefree way that you've never quite seen from him with anyone else. A secret smile that only she can pull from him. She scruches her little legs, and he places a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his hand covering almost her entire back. He coos to her as her cries taper out into little whines. Nestling her close to his chest, Astarion tucks her tiny head under his chin. Rocks her gently while shushing her until she goes quiet.

You watch as her tiny scrunched body relaxes as she calms in his hold. So enchanted you are by the two of them that it takes a moment for you to notice the aroma of food coming from behind you. You turn around and see a small tray on your nightstand with a bowl of porridge, two hard-boiled eggs, toast, and some blackberries.

Once again, you find yourself struck by how much he's changed in the years since the Nautaloid. He never used to cook for you before, and you never resented him for it. You couldn't expect him to be enthusiastic about cooking when he couldn't even taste what he made for you.

All of that changed after the news of your impending little one broke. He had quietly taken to practicing a few basic meals for you. They often lacked the amount of seasoning you normally preferred, but with your overly tender stomach, the bland meals ended up being a blessing on days you could barely keep things down.

As you eat your breakfast, you watch the two of them. Somehow, he's always had a remarkable talent for calming her. Something else you never imagined. You used to tease him about it frequently: "Oh sure, I go through all the hard work only for you to be the favorite, then?" He had simply smirked, barely able to contain his triumphant aura.

He's talking to her now; always talking with her about anything: one tangent will lead to another story and then another. He carries on conversation with her as he would any adult, despite the fact she can't even babble yet.

Even before she was born, he would speak to her in the womb. He knew your heartbeat would be a source of comfort for her when she was born, just as it was for him. She would recognize you from it, know you. He lacked the ability to provide that same comfort but hoped his voice would make up for his lack of heartbeat.

In truth, you were awed every day by how naturally Astarion had taken to caring for her, and how much she in turned seemed to take such comfort from him. You remembered how he refused to believe it at first. How something so small and innocent and precious could possibly come from him, an undead creature. Him, with his red eyes and fangs and cold skin. He had been so afraid of frightening her with his appearance at first. You had reassured him constantly, and he had seen his own likeness in the form of portraits over the years. But he could never be sure you weren't just placating him. Could never be sure those artists weren't simply flattering him.

The first time she opened her little eyes and peered up at him, Astarion let out a sigh of relief that her irises weren't a vampiric red. As her tiny eyes bore into his, he tried to discern what their true color was. You were half-delirious from exhaustion as you watched the two of them become acquainted. Barely thinking, you sleepily suggested to him that perhaps her eye color took after his original shade from before he was turned.

Astarion grew quiet and still for a long moment, something inside of him seemingly triggered by your words. A memory locked away long ago, lost to time. For the second time that same day, his body was hit with deep racking sobs. As he cried quietly into your shoulder, he clung to the little bundle in his arms, a part of himself thought long lost now given back to him.

He brings her to you now, settling down next to you in bed. You cuddle up next to your husband and baby. He's still too enthralled with her to pass her off to you, as he often is. He kisses her little hands and cheek. He smiles radiantly, far past his fears of scaring her. You're more than content to let him hold her as you eat.

She's calmed down now, her soft delicate features smoothed and her big bright eyes looking up at you both. Those captivating eyes are like faceted gemstones, a rare shade even amongst High Elves. Her skintone is similar to yours in color but with an unsettling washed-out, pale undertone that would be alarming on any other child who wasn't a dhampir. Branches of veins show through her semi-translucent skin. Her soft, silky miniature curls were the color of milkglass.

Your little one is deceptively fragile-looking, sickly even. It's easy to forget sometimes how powerful they could potentially be one day. Even at her tender young age of eight weeks, she's a formidable one. Eating and crying with equal fervor. Small and mighty. Just as opinionated as her father.

She wastes no time in letting you know both know she has needs that must be met. Rolling towards Astarion in his arms, she presses her tiny face into his chest. Her little mouth opens up as her face nudges around his shirt, seeking nourishment. You both giggle at her frustrated attempt.

"I think that's my cue, love." You place the tray back on the nightstand and gently take her from him to nestle her in your arms. Pulling down one strap of your nightgown, you begin feeding your babe in a peaceful ritual you had mastered weeks ago with her. Astarion settles in behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder. For a few minutes, he simply watches the two of you. When he takes note of your unfinished breakfast, he grabs a handful of blackberries from the tray and holds out for you to eat at your leisure as you cradle her.

It isn't lost on him, the way in which you were the first person to ever feed him. Truly feed and nourish his body, with the very blood from your own body nonetheless. Never in a million years did he ever think he would one day witness you feeding his child with that same body. An entirely brand new soul, somehow born of your union. Innocent, beautiful and alive. A part of Astarion was alive again, and he could hardly believe it even as he faced each new challenge head-on.

Since she was born, he would sometimes go without feeding for days at a time. Though the elk, deer and boars that populated the nearby woods provided ample prey for him, you knew he hated leaving you two behind even for a few hours of time that it typically took for him to hunt.

He was trying to hide it, but you could tell he was starving now. His face was a little more hollow than usual, eyes a bit more sunken, skin paler and colder. It was truly a testament to how much he adored your daughter that despite his sickly appearance, he still radiated with joy in her presence.

The blackberries run out. You tilt your head to look at him. "You should feed," eyes fixed on his. He blinks at you, obviously surprised at your suggestion. "Just a bit of my blood before you go hunting."

It takes more than a bit of willpower to stifle your giggle at his reaction. Astarion had never been one to hesitate accepting your blood.

"I- Darling, come now. You're sweet to offer, but we shouldn't. Not when you're already expending yourself," his arms snake around your waist, and his cool fingers knead into the softness of your belly comfortingly.

"Ha, trust me, this is nothing compared to feeding you while traveling and fighting for our lives in the wilderness," you assure him.

"Besides," you gesture at the jewelry around your neck. "That's what this is for."

The Amulet of Silvanus, which had already been more than useful to both of you during your time traveling, had come to have many more beneficial properties than you could have imagined at the time. It restored your blood levels, allowing Astarion to feed on you regularly. And even though he had abstained from feeding on your blood while you were with child, it had been found to also be useful in keeping your milk supply up, giving it a second use once your baby had arrived.

"It's alright," you insisted, eyes and voice soft. "I feel strong enough for this again, my love. Truly. And I trust you," your daughter continues to nurse peacefully, blissfully unaware of the conversation between her parents.

"At least let me take the edge off of your hunger, Astarion. I know you won't go too far. Besides," a smile forms on your face, unable to hold back your enthusiasm any longer. "You know I've missed it, too."

He stared at you for a moment before breaking into a smile that made your heart ache so much you swear it could have killed you.

"My love," he kisses you on the forehead, then on your lips, then both of your cheeks and your lips again. It's soft and reverent, gentle and loving.

"Always so good to me." He strokes your hair and kisses you some more before pulling away gently. His maroon eyes broke from your gaze and locked onto your little one.

"Are you sure about this, though?" There was a hint of hesitancy in his voice despite his previous enthusiasm. "I don't want to do anything that would hurt you around her," he whispered, conflict clear on his face. You considered his words carefully.

"Well..." You start with a hint of playfulness. "I don't know if you remember, dear husband, but this?" You gestured at your nursing infant. "Feeding her? It was painful at first. And we don't even know if she'll need blood one day. But if she does, I'll be providing it for you both." He looks guilty already, so before he could respond, you followed up. "But even so," you cup his cheek, gently forcing him to look you in the eye. "No matter what happens, she can't hurt me." His eyebrows raised, and he smirked at you with obvious skepticism.

"When we first found out about her, we vowed we would love her, no matter what. Even if her hunger drove her one day to drain innocent people dry." You gaze down on your little dhampir, your precious 'baby monster,' as she fed. "At the time, I was scared, but now... my love for her is so deep. I know nothing will ever change it. Nothing could ever possibly change it."

You look to him and see his eyes were round with wonder. "You don't have to if you're not comfortable, my heart. But just know you don't have to worry about hurting me. You could never hurt me, my love."

He sighed, looking at you with a sort of incredulous amusement that would normally be followed up with a statement about how nothing you say ever makes sense. Instead, he takes the hand that had been caressing his cheek and kisses it longingly.

"I'll never understand what I've done to deserve you, my dear," his nose runs along your inner wrist, savoring your scent.

"Hmm, besides helping me save the world? Well, making me laugh and being adorable definitely doesn't hurt."

"Our daughter is adorable. I am enigmatic and alluring, NOT adorable," he rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Hmm. Sorry love, but I'm afraid all evidence points to the contrary. Our daughter gets her looks from somewhere, and you know who she takes after." Astarion can't hold back his grin he looks down at her and strokes her silvery curls. The semblance between father and daughter was no small point of pride for him.

"Alright, my love. I know better than to argue with the mother of my child." He slips in behind both of you easily, pulling you up so your back is flushed to his chest, allowing yourself to lean back into him.

His arms come up under where both of yours are supporting your babe. He cradles the both of you protectively. "I've got you. I've got you both," he reassures. Your little girl continues to nurse peacefully, both parents holding her tight.

Astarion noses at the base of your neck and inhales deeply. Soft kisses pepper up and down your neck before his lips hold still in place, silently asking permission once more.

You tilt your head back against his shoulder in answer, giving him greater access. Taking a deep breath, you feel the familiar sting of his fangs breaking your skin. He was so gentle, sinking his teeth in fast enough so as not to make the sting linger, but also slow enough so as not to bruise the skin. His fangs work back and forth tenderly, taking great care to keep the bite bleeding while not opening the wound further.

You find yourself easily relaxing. "You're still gentler than she is most of the time," you joke.

His lips attach around the bite wound, gently latched just enough to keep them sealed around it. The flow of blood stayed slow and steady this way, trickling gently from you to him. In your arms, your little one is also feeding eagerly. For a moment, you can't help but giggle at how the sound of Astarion's suckling at your neck joins in with her own precious little eating noises. Her tiny ears wiggle adorably with each drink, and while he refuses to acknowledge it, you can feel Astarion's own ears make miniscule twitches when he feeds on you.

Sighing happily, you sink deeper in his embrace. You had truly missed being able to provide this for him. Time seems to slow down to a hazy crawl as you savor this moment. In the warmth of your bed, surrounded by your little family, you feel as though you could spend an eternity here. You wish you could. It wasn't easy to sacrifice so much. Give so much of yourself over to caring for your babe. But it was moments like this that had made your many sacrifices worth it.

Your undead love at your back and your tiny, half-undead infant in your arms. The feeling of his cool chest and her not-quite-warm-enough little form were somehow the most natural thing in the world. The steady beating of your heart sustaining the both of them. They were both supposed to be impossible, wrong, and profane to everything sacred and divine. And somehow, they were perfect. And you were lucky enough to have them both.

Though you're more than prepared to supplement your daughter's diet with blood the moment the need arises, you feel grateful in this moment that she's still satisfied with your milk. Melancholy borders on the edge of your warm and blissful feelings. Astarion has spoken often of how painful the blood hunger can be for him. You try to keep it to yourself, but guilt squeezes your heart when you think of her with those same hunger pains. Astarion has already sworn he will guide her through them, teach her to hunt on animals when she's strong enough. As you look upon your daughter, you can only hope to yourself that she and Astarion keep each other close, even if you one day leave them behind. There had been talks of ways the two of you could extend your lifespan, and you invested every hour you could spare into researching life-extending magic.

Yet if your endeavors failed or you died prematurely, after some time, perhaps decades, perhaps centuries in the future, you will be the one who leaves first. Astarion will remain unliving and physically unchanging, and while dhampirs were said to be more alive than undead, they were exceptionally long-lived creatures. Sources the two of you researched varied greatly, but all accounts agreed that dhampirs could outlive High Elves by centuries, possibly thousands of years if they renewed themselves with blood. Two ancient souls, undead and half-undead, largely unchanging in an ever changing world. Astarion and her would need each other.

Just as you begin to feel lightheaded, he pulls away, licking and kissing your bite to seal the wound and carefully collecting any stray strands of blood. "Easy," his arms are diligently wrapped around your babe, keeping her supported and snug. "Restore yourself, darling," he encouraged.

You nod sleepily and bring your hand up to touch the amulet. "Te Absolvo," with a soft flash of healing magic, your dizziness was instantly gone, the buzz in your head replaced with Astarion's sweet praises in your ear.

"Thank you, my love," he whispers. He presses a deep kiss into your neck, where your fresh bite mark heals. Your daughter has finished her meal now as well, and you pull your gown back up to tuck her closer to you. She snuggles up on your chest, and you stroke her back softly. She's fast asleep again already, her schedule leaning more and more each into the nocturnal with each passing day. Another early manifestion of her dhampirism.

Nocturnal sleep schedules, blood hunger, spider-climbing, shape-shifting. It didn't matter what new challenges the two of you might face with her. You trusted Astarion would be there for her. He would struggle. He would make mistakes, you know. But he has you both.

As you hum sleepily to your baby girl, Astarion nestles into your neck tenderly. He mumbles unto your skin quietly, just barely loud enough to be heard.

"You have given me everything. Thank you."

[mistiell]

Hello!! Since your requests are open and I absolutely love the way you write him (despite there only being one—), may I request some sort of angst to fluff for Astarion with a reader that accepts his advances but doesn’t seek him out because they know that he’s only doing so for protection/convenience?

Like; yes, the reader does care deeply for him. They could even say that they love him. But they don’t want him to do anything just because he feels as if he’ll be denied kindness and sustenance if he doesn’t. So they’re very reserved and keep to themselves, treating him very kindly when he propositions them, but doesn’t do anything more than what he asks.

Omg, thank you so much!! I worried I might have portrayed him in a way that was ooc but I'm glad to see people like the way I write him!! lol WC: 1.6k

---

Astarion has manipulated and romanced countless people over the centuries. He knows what he’s doing. The routine differs depending on the person, of course, but he has it down to a science.

You shouldn’t be any different.

Since the first time you let him feed on you, it’s become a sort of routine he regrettably relies on to stay satiated. It’s been nearly a month and a half of sneaking to and from your bedroll every few nights, and he’s begun to worry that you’ll tire of it – that you’ll get sick of the fatigue and the lingering ache in your shoulder that clings to you well into the morning after.

This particular morning, he sees it in your sluggish movements and absentmindedness. Karlach has to call your name thrice before you finally turn to her with a small, “Hm?”

“Gods, has the tadpole migrated and blocked your ears?” The tiefling chuckles, cuffing you on the shoulder on the same side Astarion had fed from the night before. With a pained grunt, you wince, brow scrunching in discomfort as you roll it out a little.

Karlach gasps, “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s alright.” You smile, but when Karlach leaves, it falls as you rub at the juncture between your neck and trap muscle. If he doesn’t find a way to keep you on the hook, there’s no chance you’ll let your late night meetings continue.

So, when the two of you are sitting by the fire after setting up camp for the night, he decides to offer up the only thing he can think of to keep you interested.

“Ugh, Gods. There is nothing to do around here.” He huffs, prodding for an opening.

You snort, taking a sip out of your water skin, “You can say that again.”

There it is.

“You know,” He leans just far enough into your space to make you fluster, smirking, “We could always make our own entertainment?”

Eyes darting away from him, your throat bobs, “What do you mean?”

He leans in a little more, making sure to glance at your lips as he purrs, “I think you know what I mean, darling.”

“I think—,” Your voice cracks up an octave and you clear your throat, embarrassed. It’s rather cute, “I think I do...?”

“You think so, hm? Tell me what I mean, then.” Your mouth opens and closes a few times, and he can hear your heart beating fast against your ribs. He chuckles coyly through his nose and leans forward to brush the tip of it along the apex of your cheekbone, lowering his voice to a seductive whisper, “Might it have something to do with,” His fingertips find the top of your hand where it rests on your knee, ghosting up under your sleeve and over your wrist as he breaths, “Touching, maybe?”

A shudder runs through you as you swallow hard, “May— Maybe...,” He’s not expecting it when you pull back and look at him apprehensively, “But... I mean, are you sure?”

The question takes him aback; throws him off balance. No one’s ever bothered to ask before. It makes him wonder if he’s off his game, if perhaps his act isn’t as convincing as it normally is.

He shakes it off, grinning at you coquettishly, “Of course, my dear. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.” It’s not the first white lie he’s told you, and it certainly won’t be the last.

You wet your lips, searching his expression for any sort of hesitance. He’s careful to make sure there’s none to find. When you’re satisfied, you smile shyly, “I’d like that” “That’s what I like to hear.” He hums, standing before offering his hands, “Shall we?”

You take them, and as he leads you somewhere more secluded, he counts it as a victory.

Weeks pass, and he’s sure to propose a little fun between feedings to keep in your good graces. One thing that he’s noticed is that you never really ask him to do anything more than what he’s suggested. He expected you to come to him every once in awhile after the first time he’d bedded you, maybe ask for a piece of him when you’re bored or in need of some stress relief, but... you haven’t.

He also expected you to have at least some demands, but aside from voicing your preferences in the heat of the moment, you haven’t asked him for a damn thing. For a moment, he wonders if he’s losing his touch, but he shakes the thought off as quick as it comes. The implications of it make his stomach churn.

If not his body, what else does he have to offer?

“Astarion?” You call as you approach him where he stands near his tent.

He startles, then clears his throat to play it off. “Yes, darling?”

You smile apologetically. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No worries, my dear.” He doesn’t understand why you’d apologize for something so small, or why it makes his undead heart twist uncomfortably in his chest, “Did you need something?”

“Come with me?” You ask, offering a hand, “I have something I’d like to show you.”

This is it. You’ve finally come to offer yourself up instead of it being the other way around.

“Ooh, I like the sound of that.” He hums, taking your hand and allowing you to lead him into the forest. A rather odd location to lay, but he’s definitely worked with stranger.

Weaving through trees, you lead him to a small clearing with a blanket spread out over the grass in the center. You only let go of his hand when you reach the edge of it, toeing off your boots before carefully plopping yourself down on top of it.

“So this is what you had in mind, hm?” He grins, following suit after you pat the spot next to you, “A romantic romp under the stars?”

“Oh! Uhm, no.” You titter, and he frowns.

“Then what did you have in mind, pet?” He asks, watching you twiddle your fingers.

“I-.” You huff, rubbing at your mouth and glancing away, “There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, and I thought we could watch it together.” You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, “It’s stupid. You don’t have to stay, obviously, but... I thought it could be nice.”

What the fuck.

“You... brought me all the way out here, just to watch the stars?” He asks, sounding bewildered even to his own ears.

You look back at him nervously, nodding, “I did.”

What the fuck.

He should say something, but for the first time in a long while, he’s completely lost for words. His brows draw together in confusion, and when he speaks, his voice comes out wrong; too soft, too shaky. “Why?”

You stare at him, worrying your lip for a moment before starting carefully, “You don’t need to sleep with me to buy my kindness, you know. I enjoy our nights together, of course, but I’d like you just as much without them.”

Now he’s really at a loss. His stomach lurches with the anxiety and embarrassment of being seen without meaning to be. He feels vulnerable; exposed.

“Of course I know that.” He scoffs, attempts a smug grin. His voice shakes as he says it, “What’s not to like?”

You huff a small, singular puff of laughter, “Right.”

Something flashes above, drawing both your attentions. Stars shoot across the blackened sky, streaking it with white and blue and purple. You gasp, eyes so wide, he could watch the whole spectacle through the reflection dancing over them.

You lay back, using your forearm as a pillow as you watch the sky intently. He follows soon after, a strange silence falling over the two of you.

He tries to focus on the sight above him, but your words have a hold on his mind like a vice grip. It’s been so long since anyone has shown him kindness without some sort of transaction involved. So long that he can’t even recall it ever happening.

He stares hard up at the sky, mouth twisting down in apprehension. He swallows thickly before murmuring, “Would you really?”

He sees you turn your head to look at him out of his peripherals, brows drawn together in confusion, “Would I really what?”

Embarrassment flares and writhes in his gut; his nose wrinkles at the feeling. He feels utterly ridiculous as he replies, “Still like me if I didn’t...”

He can’t find a word that sounds right. You understand anyway.

Some strange, melancholic sort of horror flashes over your face before you will it away, nodding resolutely.

“Absolutely.” You flip your hand so it lies palm up on the blanket. An invitation, not a demand, “You mean more to me than sex, Astarion. I don’t care what we do or don’t do, as long as I get to be with you. Whatever that entails.”

A lump forms in his throat and his eyes burn. He knows if he looks at you, he’s not going to be able to keep the tears at bay. He looks at your hand instead, staring for a moment before slotting his fingers between yours. Squeezing, he hopes you’ll take it as what it is, “Thank you. I don’t think I deserve this. I don’t know how to navigate this. I think I want to try.”

You squeeze back. He takes it as, “I’ll wait for you.”

[feyascorner]

Hear me out guys—Astarion and non-sexual physical intimacy in baths.

The way he would love washing the dirt off Tav/Reader after a really long day out adventuring? He would just drag you to the bath, complaining about how you stink or whatever as an excuse to dump you into the water. Sometimes he doesn't even bother taking your shirt off, he just chucks you in.

And you’re both technically undressed but at the same time it’s nothing sexual it’s genuinely just soft idiots trying to wash each other’s hair.

The way you could probably spike his hair all over the place with soap and he’d just sigh and roll his eyes before splashing water in your face.

And he'd talk through what he does to his own hair to keep it soft while massaging the same process into your own.

He’d probably prefer to hold your back to his chest in the beginning, so he can lean his head backward or rest his chin in the crook of your neck. But if you asked, he wouldn't complain about it being the other way around either.

He's never experienced being so close to someone else without it leading to sex, and he’s surprised to find that he absolutely loves it. Like it’s his favorite part of the day. When you two get to your room he's just standing next to the bathroom ready to pounce.

It helps him heal his relationship with physical intimacy too. Being able to just rush his hands across your skin with no expectations for something else puts him at ease, and it lets the two of you grow closer because you’re always telling each other what you're feeling or about your day while you bathe.

More importantly I also think he’s naturally very cold (being undead and all) so I think he puts the bath at an ungodly high temperature and you literally feel like you're getting cooked alive unless your arm is touching his or he’s holding you.

I will be thinking about this for a while goodnight 🙏😊

[kittenintheden]

how to lose your mind

WE HAVE LIFTOFF. yeah I. it's a companion piece to how to train your brat and can be considered a future NYS teaser-spoiler. read the tags. enjoy.

Rating: E Pairing: Astarion/Ori (female Tav/OC) Word Count: 5k Content: 18+, pegging Astarion into an absolute puddle, sex toys, anal, handjob, multiple orgasms, facesitting, oral sex, overstimulation, prostate stimulation, idiots in love and so horny about it, future NYS content

That old Harper druid is a bloody harpy. Sniping, judgmental, disdainful. Eager to tell him exactly where his shortfalls lie and rebuff him like a child, smirking all the while.

Heroes. Who has need of them? Certainly not him.

Astarion bursts into their private room at the Elfsong like there’s a storm cloud over his head. Ori’s reading in an overlarge armchair near the small fireplace clad in one of her short robes. Her legs dangle off the side of the chair.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “I sense there’s a story here,” she says.

He flails his hands through the air in exasperation and stalks over to the cabinet, snatching up the crystal decanter he’s been keeping his spare blood supply in lately. He turns around and points the neck of the bottle at her.

“That Jaheira is nasty,” he gripes, removing the stopper from the decanter and turning back around to pour himself a glass. “She called me, and I quote, a ‘homicidal imp easily distracted by shiny things.’” He waves his hand through the air for effect and glances over his shoulder at her.

Ori lets the hand holding her book fall to her chest and gives him a fond smile. “Is that inaccurate?”

“She’s not allowed to say it,” he says. “She hasn’t earned the right.”

He picks his goblet up by the rim and turns, resting back against the cupboard and properly looking at her as he brings it to his lips. The hem of her robe rides up her bare legs and stops just before her arse. If he had to guess, he’d say she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“And what have you been doing this afternoon, darling?” he says, pitching his voice lower and taking another drink as he holds her eye.

Ori shrugs. “Sorting through our chest of assorted nonsense.” She holds up her book. “Reading a bit. Enjoying the lack of whinging.”

He tuts at her. “I come to my partner for support in my time of need and all I get is teasing,” he pouts. “Woe, for I am alone in all things.”

She lolls her head back and laughs. Rolling her body toward him, she lets her book dangle from her fingers and gives him bedroom eyes from beneath her lashes. The split in her robe separates between her breasts and gives him a peek at her cleavage.

“That’s too bad,” she says coquettishly, running the fingers on her free hand over the vine tattoos twisting over her collarbone. “Here I thought I had company and that he might want to spend quality time with me tonight.”

Astarion hums at her and knocks back the rest of his refreshment. “He’ll think about it.” He turns around to pour himself another, tapping his toe against the wooden floor as he does. Over his shoulder, he says, “What were you reading, anyway?”

“Something I picked up at Sharess’ Caress,” she says.

His mouth tics up in a half-grin as he watches blood refill his silver goblet. “Ah, it all makes sense.” He sets down the decanter. “Give you any ideas for the evening’s activities?”

“One or two,” she says, a tingle going up his spine at the sultry lilt in her voice.

He looks over his shoulder to throw another quip and it sticks on his tongue when he sees that she’s sitting perched on the edge of the chair. The robe’s untied and laid fully open, revealing her bare, freckled chest and full breasts, her legs stretched out in front of her. She has her hands on the cushion behind her and arches her back so he gets the full effect as his eyes follow the natural path down from her parted lips to the valley between her breasts to the plane of her stomach to-

Ori glances down to the place his eyes have settled and says, “I thought maybe, if you wanted to, you’d like to come sit on my lap while we consider our options.”

Astarion chokes a little on his own saliva and coughs to cover it, glancing away. He clears his throat and looks back to the space between her legs, feeling a wave of surprised arousal ripple down his torso, leaving heat in its wake.

“Is that, erm.” He gestures at the dark gray, exquisitely shaped cock she’s attached to her hips with a black leather harness. “Is that the one…”

She lets her head fall to one side and grins at him. “The one I saw you eyeing when we were out before?” she says. “It is. The D-”

He waves a hand in front of him and shakes his head. “Don’t… please don’t say the name again. I can’t handle it.”

Ori giggles, head thrown back and toy bouncing teasingly in her lap. When she rights herself, her smile goes soft. She lifts a hand and holds it out to him. “Come here,” she says.

He does, leaving his second drink on the cupboard as he approaches, taking her hand. She pulls him to her gently, just enough to indicate that she’d like a kiss as she tilts her face up for him. He bends at the waist and presses his mouth to hers once, then a second time. Then he drops his gaze to the toy and reaches down to touch it.

It’s hard in a way that makes his own cock respond in kind at its promise, but softer than he’d thought it would be, as if it’s covered in a thin layer of well-conditioned leather. He runs his fingers over it, mapping its shape. Good. Very good shape. Very good size.

“Mmmn,” he breathes before he can catch the sound in his throat.

Ori leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “It’s an option. If you want. Or we can do something else.”

He laughs through his teeth. “No, this, uh. This is. I like it.” He meets her eye. “I think I would like to do that. With you.”

She smiles and waits.

“Now,” Astarion specifies. “I would like to do it now.”

“Lucky you,” she purrs, twisting her fingers in the front of his shirt and pulling him against her for another kiss.

Their tongues tangle together and he falls to his knees between her legs. He pulls the robe off her shoulders so he can run his lips and tongue along her collarbone and up over the place where her neck meets her shoulder. Another rush of arousal throbs through his core as his body and mind remember that this can feel good, it can feel so good, and he trusts that she’ll take care of him.

Ori’s hands go up under his shirt and she helps him get it off over his head, their mouths only parting long enough to remove it. She twines both hands around the nape of his neck and strokes her tongue sweetly against his. He groans as he presses his body to hers and feels the cock pressed between their bellies.

Half-reluctantly, half-eagerly, he breaks away and pushes himself to standing, going to undo his fastenings. Ori’s hands fall over his and he lets her take over, loosening his ties. As she does, she presses soft kisses along the line between his navel and his pelvis, further igniting his need. It’s all he can do not to whine at her.

She chuckles and gets his laces undone, hooking her fingers under the hem of his breeches and pulling them down until his hard cock springs free, the head swollen tight and pink with want.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she purrs, observing him mere inches from her face. “I thought you might like this, but I had no idea.”

He murmurs his approval as she pokes out her tongue and runs it sweetly over the slit on the underside of him, his pre-fluid creating a tiny pool in the center of her tongue. Then she looks up at him and swallows.

“How would you like it, dearest?” she says. “This is for you.”

It fully hits him, then. His gaze shifts to the side table where she’s set out a few things – towels, a basin, vials. The toy she’s wearing won’t give her any pleasure of her own, at least not the way she’s offering it to him.

“You planned this,” he breathes. “For me.”

She nods.

His throat bobs, desire and adoration swirling together inside him. He doesn’t know how to thank her. For this, for everything. But he’ll figure it out. Every day until it all ends, he’ll figure it out.

“I can be on top?” he asks softly.

“Of course you can, love,” she says, running her hands up the outsides of his thighs. She helps him remove his remaining clothes and then reaches for one of the vials.

Astarion lifts one of his legs and sets his foot on the chair beside her, leaving the other on the floor. Ori takes his hint and applies lubricating oil to her fingers before she reaches between his legs, continuing to press open-mouthed kisses to his stomach as she runs her middle finger along the cleft of his arse. His breath catches when she finds the opening and massages it gently with the pad of her finger.

He closes his eyes and relaxes into the feeling, letting himself enjoy the way she’s touching him. His thigh falls open wider, giving her better access. She takes her time, completely unhurried, letting him shiver and sigh for her. She touches him, kisses him, sings him his praises.

When he begins to squirm impatiently and cracks his eyes to give her a heated look, she gives the head of his cock another lick and pushes her finger inside slowly, up to the first knuckle to start. He clenches on instinct, then in pleasure, then relaxes as she pushes deeper, past the second ring of muscle.

He didn’t have doubts about her experience, really, but any he might have had evaporate when she curls her finger and finds his pleasure center almost immediately.

“Oh,” he breathes, curling over her slightly and gripping the arms of the chair. “Yes, there, right there.”

She works him slowly with one finger, then two, stroking circles along the place inside him that makes his toes curl. A low, aching, insistent tension begins deep inside him. The feverish need for more.

Instinctively, hard-coded from years of experience, Astarion reaches out blindly for her cock to stroke along its length, to bring her in closer to his body. It takes him a murky moment to realize it’s likely for naught, but he does it anyway. He feels oil against his fingers and realizes she’s added more, this time to the phallus she wears. He swallows hard and spreads it, pumping like he would if she could feel him.

Ori reaches up to the back of his head with her free hand and presses their foreheads together. “Whenever you’re ready, love.”

“Ready,” he pants. “Gods, so ready.”

She carefully removes her fingers from him so he can crawl up onto the chair with her, his knees on either side of her hips as he straddles her. Ori puts her hands on his hips while he holds on to the back of the chair and helps him line up, the phallus held firm in its harness. He finds it and sinks down, his breath coming rapidly as the head of it stretches him.

He rocks softly down, down, and down again, and then she’s partway inside him, the curve of the toy hitting him just right.

“Uuuuhhh fuck me,” he grits out as he moves.

“Trying, baby,” she says.

She puts her forearm against the chair for leverage and rolls herself up into him, her torso undulating in a smooth wave. Astarion shudders out his breath and lets his eyes fall closed as she works the full length inside him, stroking firmly along his hot spot on the way in and out. His fingers tighten against the chair and he turns his head to the side to gently bite down on his own arm to stifle the noises threatening to spill from his lips.

He works his hips in tandem with her, finding an easy rhythm that feels absolutely delicious. Ori’s hands run up his chest and around his ribs to his back. She brings her face in close to him, licking her tongue over his pectoral until she finds his nipple, and pauses there to gently suck.

“Hmmmmn-ah,” Astarion moans, releasing his arm where he’s biting it and letting sound rise out of his throat once more. Too focused on the tension building within him to be anything resembling coherent. His head feels far too heavy as he presses it against the side of her face.

With his mouth near her ear, she can pick out a select few words – mostly Elvish, with her name peppered in for good measure.

She takes her mouth from his chest and turns to kiss him quiet. He continues to rock against her, occasionally bobbing up and down. His timing goes increasingly spotty.

When they break, she whispers, “This must feel good. You’re doing the garbled Elvish thing.”

“Mmmm sh-shhh,” he shushes her, leaning in to cover her mouth with his, kissing between shallow gasps. For once, he has no clever comeback on deck. The only thing currently top of mind is that the combination of riding good cock and knowing the good cock belongs to the person he loves is driving him out of his absolute mind with pleasure.

He releases a hand from the chair and lets one arm fall to his side, dangling it as he leans back and rolls his hips against her, panting out a steady stream of hah, hah, hah as he lets the sensations wash through him.

While she watches him lose himself from below, Ori rubs circles into his lower back and around his hips. “So beautiful,” she murmurs. “Beautiful and riding me so well.”

He brokenly cries out her name. The tension inside him is swelling and rising, threatening to burst. He reaches around to take his cock in hand and finish himself off, but Ori stays him, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m ready to come,” he gasps. “I’m… right there.”

“I know,” she says gently back. “You can. You can come for me, love.”

“I need to…” He tries to touch himself again.

She holds him. “Trust me, baby. You can. You can come, just like this.”

“I… I…”

Ori continues to slowly fuck him through his overwhelm. When he relaxes against her again to let the pleasure continue, she releases his hand and reaches between his legs, not quite touching his cock. She briefly cups him before moving a knuckle behind his balls to massage the spot right at the base of his cock.

Astarion’s eyebrows tick up and his jaw goes fully slack as the additional stimulation tips him over, the tension releasing from him as he clenches down around the toy, riding out the heavenly pulses sending ripples through his entire body.

His cock leaks a bit, fluid trailing over the tip and down the underside, but continues to stand rock-hard and at attention.

“Bleeding gods above and below,” he groans. He’s only had one of those a handful of times in his life. For good measure, his body gives one last mild clench.

Ori lightly runs her fingers over his skin. “Did I do okay?” she teases.

He heaves a breath and hums at the feeling of her still inside him, the need already starting to prickle at the edges of his awareness.

“I just came so well that I don’t think I could pretend I didn’t if I tried,” he says, deadpan.

“So, yes, then.”

“Yes.”

She takes one of his hands back in hers and brings it to her mouth to kiss. “Do you need to take a breather?”

“Also yes,” he says.

With her help, he gets his legs back under him and carefully rises up off her, whining a little at the loss. It felt good and he’s still so hard.

But he also genuinely needs a moment to catch his breath.

Astarion helps her to standing and she gives him a kiss before she moves to the side table. He moves to flop down onto their shared bed, flat on his back. The blankets are cool against his sex-heated skin.

Ori takes a moment to do a quick cleanup with her gathered supplies before she comes to stand between his spread legs where they hang over the edge of the mattress. She lays two towels down on the bed beside him.

With a pleased sigh, she runs the pads of her fingers down the dip in his abdomen, making him jump beneath her touch as she nears his leaking cock. She doesn’t quite touch and he flops his head back in mock disappointment, his blissed smile giving him away.

“I think…” she says as she crawls up to straddle him, holding his eye. “... you could do another of those. If you wanted.”

“Gods,” Astatrion groans, his core clenching in memory and anticipation. “I don’t know that I could.”

She places her hands on either side of his head and bends down to kiss him. He feels the rigid tip of her phallus against his hip and subconsciously nips at her lip with a growl.

“Would you like to try?” she asks sweetly, batting her eyes at him. “Before the big finish.”

A rumbling hum rises from deep in his throat and he reaches up to move a curl out of her eyes. “You don’t have to keep going.”

Ori smiles fondly. “I want to.” She lays on top of him and he gives a gravely moan as her weight settles across his erection, trapping it between their bodies. She reaches up and traces her fingers over his face, gazing at him like she’s enchanted. “If you knew how gorgeous you looked just now, you’d want to make it happen again, too.”

He barks out a laugh and swallows. “Always knew you liked them pretty.”

She puffs a breath out through her nose and leans in to kiss his cheek. “I like them well-loved,” she says. Another kiss. “And fucked the way they deserve.”

His body responds to that like a reflex, arousal stretching and purring under his skin, his cock insistently reminding him of its need. He kisses her with a hum, breaking to rest his head back against the bed so he can look up at her with lidded eyes.

“I love you,” she whispers. “I love making you feel good. Will you let me?”

Gods, he adores her.

“I’ll allow it,” he says with a slow smile.

Ori raises her eyebrows. “Good.”

She goes to fetch another vial and spends a moment prepping them both again, running her heated palm over the back of his thigh and guiding him to bend his knee to open himself back up for her. When he’s ready, she puts her hands on either side of him and pushes cautiously back inside, careful not to go too hard or too fast as she lowers herself over his body.

Astarion instantly tightens his leg around her and draws her in closer, groaning out his desire. It’s wonderful, but it’s also overwhelming. He’s so gods damned sensitive, the head of his cock nearly purple with unspent arousal.

“I don’t know if I…” he whispers.

Ori slowly rolls one more time, brushing her hand along the side of his face and whispering into the opposite ear, “You’re all right, dearest. Whenever you’re ready to let go, I’m right here.”

He sputters out a tearful sound and arches into her, lifting his leg higher up to wrap along her hip. The adjusted angle makes him gasp, igniting the tension to build anew, higher and more maddening this time. With a whine, he grips her upper arm and turns his face toward hers.

“Love me,” he says, breath warm on her cheek. “Love me, Ori, love me.”

“I will love you so well,” she says, closing the distance to kiss him deep. “You remember our word?”

“Yes,” he breathes, nodding a little for good measure.

“Say it for me, one time,” she says, voice soothing.

Without hesitation, he says, “Weavemoss.”

Ori kisses him again. “Any reason we want to stop, no matter what, that’s our word.”

He presses hard into the kiss, then says, “I understand. Now fuck me again.”

“Whatever my sweetheart wants,” she purrs, pivoting her hips to set a slow, reverent pace.

It’s too much and not enough at once, sticky-sweet with an edge. He wants to both melt into the feeling and cling to it desperately.

He hadn’t exactly been quiet before, but he’d maintained a sliver of control over his utterances. This time, he doesn’t have the capacity to care. He leverages himself to grind back against her, whining and huffing and groaning out his pleasure.

“That’s it,” she says, her voice winded from the exertion. “You’re incredible. What a good, beautiful boy you are.”

“I am,” he agrees, huffing out a delirious laugh. She adjusts her angle slightly and gives him a series of quick, shallow thrusts followed by a long roll and he loses himself.

“Gods, arsurinyas, gods,” he gasps, head thrown back. “How are you doing that?”

“Practice,” she huffs, leaning heavily on her arms and increasing her pace.

From there, it’s only a simple of matter of time before his pleasure catches him again, the thread drawing tighter and tighter until it snaps once more. The whole of his pelvis and abdomen goes sore from its clenching, but in the way that feels like the high after a run, after a kill, after an unbelievable fuck.

And still, and still, his bullocks ache with unspilled seed. He’s nearly mindless from it.

While he comes down from his latest high, he feels Ori pull out and he tries to tell her no, come back, it’s so much but it’s also so wonderful, but he needn’t have worried. She takes his hands and uses her bodyweight to pull him up to sitting. He lolls there, blissed out and feral with need. 

“Think you can turn around for me, love?” she asks, giving his hands one more gentle yank. “I’ve got you.”

He groans and does as asked, thoughts too muddled to argue or attempt anything but her request. His leg is heavy as he lifts it and flips himself, feet now on the floor as he puts his palms on the edge of the bed. Ori approaches behind him and he barely registers her spreading the towels out under him, but then her hands are rubbing his back and he goes jelly-boned under her touch, a completely pliant mess.

“Ready?” she says. He feels her palms spread over his hips, holding him together.

He arches his deep in response. “Yes,” he breathes, barely audible.

When she enters him again, his mind hollows out and he instantly clenches down around the toy. She gives his body a moment to settle before she begins to move again. Her hands slide from his hips to the divots in his lower back, her thumbs massaging into the muscles there in the most deliriously enjoyable way, relaxing him and drawing a reedy purr from his throat.

Ori presses her breasts up against his back as she rocks into him yet again, kissing between his shoulder blades. He whimpers, overstimulated and desperate and continually dripping onto the towels below. 

“You’re being so good,” she croons. “Such a good boy. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” he sighs, rocking back into her. “I’ll be whatever you want.”

Another kiss on his spine. “Good boys get good things.”

His hair is damp with sweat, breath puffing from his lips in his lustful haze. “Please,” he whispers. 

Ori rolls up on her tiptoes and puts her mouth against his ear. She gives the lobe a little suck and enjoys his shuddering whine before she says, “Good boys get to come on my cock thrice.”

“Fuck,” Astation gasps, dropping his chin and feeling his cock pulse and twitch, his balls pulling in tight. 

Then Ori reaches around and takes him in hand and his mouth falls open with a guttural moan.

The remaining oil on her hand and his own slick spread under her touch, offering a splendid glide as she jerks him, making sure to brush up against the slit with her thumb as she works.

“Aaaa-aaaahh,” he manages as he thrusts into her hand.

She follows his hips with hers and together the set a rhythm, him fucking into her hand while she fucks into him, a perfect storm. There’s no drawing this out. He’s already hurtling toward the end, eyes squeezed shut until tears trail from the corners.

“Ori, gods, Ori,” he whimpers. “I’m going to cuh- gods-”

Like a shiver, it runs down the length of him from the crown of his head all the way to his toes. He breaks apart like so much stardust, his release spilling out in an incredible rush, then again, again, and again as Ori pumps him through it until it slows to a trickle. Everything goes soft and quiet, his body sated at last.

He doesn’t speak and neither does she, their heavy breathing the only sound. Ori wraps her arms around him and holds him close, peppering kisses over his shoulders, his back, his neck. Slowly, softly, she trails her fingers over his lower belly, soothing the soreness there.

When she pulls out, the only thing he feels fit to do is drag his burdensome body up onto the mattress and collapse into the pillows. He hears her soft laugh as she removes her harness and collects the messed towels, setting everything aside for a proper cleaning later. She takes some time to wipe herself down with water and mild soap from the basin, then brings a damp cloth over to do the same to him.

His breathing slows as she turns him onto his back, helping him tent a leg so she can carefully clean up the oil and spend from his skin. Astarion blows a breath between his lips and cracks his eyes open to look up at her, curls falling limp and sweaty against her head. Her skin is dewy with lust and exertion.

It’s been a minute since anyone’s fucked him so well, so selflessly. He reaches up a hand to brush against the side of her face, taking the cloth from her and tossing it aside so he can guide her down into his waiting kiss. They’re drunk on one another, lips and tongue and touch.

They make out for several minutes before Astarion runs a hand down her body and between her legs, finally. He finds her completely drenched with slick.

“Hmmm,” he hums against her mouth. “Someone enjoyed that almost as much as I did, I think.”

“What can I say,” she sighs, hitching her breath as he runs a finger along the seam of her. “It’s a bit of a rush to get your love off three times in a row, especially when he looks so pretty coming apart.”

“I can relate,” he says, voice low. He reaches around to palm her just below her arse and pulls her up higher. “Get up here.”

She chuckles. “This was for you, sweetheart.”

“The hells it was,” he lilts, pulling her with slightly more insistence. “If you think I’m going to let you get away with all that without making you scream your pretty heart out, you don’t know me at all.”

“Promises,” she teases. But she relents, letting him guide her as he scoots himself down the mattress and lifts her leg until she’s settled directly on his face.

He runs the entire flat of his tongue along her heated cunt, savoring the moaning gasp she makes, and moves his hands up over her sides, counting every rib as he goes before he lowers one hand to her waist and palms her breast with the other. Ori offers little resistance before she begins rutting against his mouth, chasing relief he’s all too happy to offer.

His tongue works magic as he curls it up into her, stroking along the rough place just inside before drawing back up to lave at her clit.

Ori puts her hand over his on her chest, making him squeeze her tighter there as she begins to bounce a bit. “Gods damn it, you have such a sweet mouth,” she pants.

He smiles and continues to work her, using everything at his disposal to light her up – the flats of his teeth, the whole of his tongue, the suction of his lips. Her clit goes pebble-hard under his ministrations and she whines out his name.

“Gods, gods, gods,” she huffs out between bounces, her voice tight with need. “Gods, Astarion, that’s so fucking…”

He redoubles his efforts, moving both hands to the globes of her arse and gipping hard so he can help her fuck his face to her content. And she does, she does and she does until her thighs quake.

Astarion rolls three circles in quick succession, a delightful swirl that he knows will drive her mad, and she throws her head back and gives a rewarding, sobbing cry to the ceiling as she comes, her slick coating his chin.

After, they lay side by side naked on top of the covers, Astarion wrapped around her from behind with a hand still palming one of her breasts, softly snoring.

They don’t wake until midnight, and they don’t talk about the fact that for all his disdain for heroes, he certainly doesn’t mind being fucked by one.