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bloodiedrogue · 4 months ago

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SICK LITTLE GAMES

SUMMARY: Astarion arrives to interupt her sleep. Like always. PAIRING: Astarion Ancunin/Female Reader WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, teasing, oral sex (fem receiving), overstimulation, blood drinking, brat taming if you squint real hard. .A/N: I have no idea how this mother fucker got into my house but here we are. A little blast from the past.

MASTERLIST

The affection comes in waves. Like the ocean, they’re unpredictable and rough —enveloping you under the hurried embrace of an overly confident Astarion who often appears out of nowhere. The sensations of desperation always filling his features as he piles into your tent well into the night, still smelling of the viscera of his latest catch.

Whenever it happens, you’re hardly ready for it. With sleep still in your eyes and the confusion of someone who’s seemingly just awoken from death itself, it always takes you a few moments to register that he’s talking to you. And, that his needy hands have already begun to pull at your clothes, adjusting the fabric in ways that better cater to his curious eyes.

“Hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time,” he jokes. His voice low and hungry. A telltale sign that he’s here for something requiring not only your company but your undivided attention too, causing you to sigh.

“Well, I was sleeping,” you say, your palm moving up to rub your eye, feeling the pressure that’s already begun to develop as revenge for not immediately taking care of your already lacking sleep schedule. “But some bastard decided to ruin that.”

He tuts and further cages you against your bedroll, fingers idly stroking your exposed skin. “You want me to take care of them, love? Tear them to shreds for waking you up?”

At that, you snort and move your knee towards the inner part of his thigh, spreading it slightly as a sign that, despite the interruption, you’re willing to forget his transgressions. “It’s alright,” you mumble. “I can handle him. He’s pretty weak.”

“Weak?”

You laugh at his dramatic response, your eyes slightly narrowing to better view the pout on his lips. His expression pinching in annoyance as you reach up and instantly try to smooth everything back out. “Apologies. I meant more so that he’s… distracted.”

“Right, of course.” He releases a huff and lowers his face to yours, a petty smirk now appearing. “That makes more sense considering the rather precarious position he’s found you in.”

“And what position might that be?”

As you ask, you can feel his hands moving to grip your waist. The surprisingly tender feeling making you twitch as he bares his teeth in amusement. His expression shifting from slightly annoyed to completely enraptured in the span of a second thanks to the instinctual reactions you offer in regards to his touch.

“Awfully willing to please,” he simply replies then, the coolness of his tone making you roll your eyes and raise your hands to pinch his cheeks.

“You’re disgusting, you know that? Crawling into my tent in the dead of night so that you can get off on my hospitality. Shameful.”

All he does is humorously hum and lower his face further, the warmth laced within your features spreading down the length of your neck as he aims to claim it with a kiss. “Be less complacent then.”

As if by routine, you open your mouth to argue further but quickly find yourself closing back up when his tongue darts out to taste your flesh. The slick, hot organ easily finding that spot that always seems to render you useless, causing your mind to turn off. Every verbal thought you once had vanishing against the movement of his hands hungrily holding your jaw and rising beneath your tattered tunic.

“I’d say be quiet so the others don’t hear but I see you’re already too blissed out to function,” Astarion chuckles, his lips brushing against you. The lack of previous contact leaving you writhing beneath him —hands moving to wrap around his neck in protest.

“Hey Astarion, for once, can you not tease me?”

He pretends to think for a moment, but ultimately refuses, showing his defiance in the form of slowed movements and a smirk that leaves you wishing you had the resolve to kick him out. “Mm, but what would be the fun in that?”

Again, you huff in annoyance. Even though you’d already expected this the moment he first arrived. Considering Astarion’s never been one the type to simply give into anything, it’s no surprise that even in bed there always has to be a challenge or a game involved. Some sadistic form of foreplay that often causes the end result to unfortunately feel all the more worth it when it arrives, causing you to blindly follow.

“It’d certainly speed things up so I can—oh, fuck you.”

He wastes no time riling you up some more. Before you finish your increasingly irrelevant argument, you feel his teeth drag across your skin, the sharpest points grazing your most sensitive spot with ease. “Language, darling.”

Almost immediately, you press your lips together in protest. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of fighting further as he lifts his head to study you. His eyes focusing on the various sections of your face —memorizing every inch as his other hand draws patterns into your side. A feeling that becomes almost unbearable as time goes on. Thanks to the way he’s staring at you —eyes filled with the desire to ruin— you can’t help but feel impatient. Your body shifting beneath him to garner some sort of response that might speed things along.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Then hurry up,” you practically whine. No longer caring about how desperate you sound. Or how you look when you grip the collar of his shirt to yank him back down again. “Otherwise I’ll kick you out.”

“Ha! No you won’t.”

“I will.”

Despite knowing otherwise, he concedes… slightly. Granting you the satisfaction of sharing the kind of kiss that starts off simple and sweet but quickly becomes tainted. The temptation of potential clouding your minds as Astarion reaches for the back of your head, gripping the roots of your hair —both of you pushing the other to gain control.

Unsurprisingly, it ends up being him that comes out on top. After a long battle of teeth and tongues, he inevitably pries himself away to look down at your breathless form. Admiring the way your chest repeatedly rises and falls, attempting to suck in enough air so that you can scold him for his actions.

“Gods, you certainly are adorable.”

“Oh—shut up.”

He laughs and shakes his head, moving a hand to your cheek. “No honestly, it’s incredible how much defiance one person can have,” he tells you, stroking your skin. “Normally, I’d have the average begging for release by now.”

“Not sure how resilience correlates to adorableness.”

He presses another kiss to your mouth. This time refusing to satisfy. “Hm, it’s more the lack there of that I find adorable.”

You roll your eyes. “Right, of course.”

In response, he lets out a laugh. Allowing the air to thicken around you. Your shared arousal fuelling the need to fall into your usual roles as you swallow hard and further spread your legs. No longer caring how submissive you look underneath his smug stare.

“Right to the point, I see. How” —he pauses, leaning in to place another chaste kiss to your lips— “Dull.”

All you do is huff and bump his thigh with your knee. The fussy action doing enough to disrupt his patience, causing him to scowl and grab your thigh, giving it a light squeeze.

“I see the lack of rest is making you testy.”

You narrow your eyes and release him, forcing your arms to cross over your chest. “I’d say the vampire refusing to fuck me is more so the reason.”

“Oh hush.” Shaking his head, he reaches down to detangle your defiant arms so that he can better see you. His eyes immediately making their rounds in ways that do numbers on your heart as you continue to lay there, always cursed to endure this little game of his. “In no way am I refusing. In fact, if you quit being so huffy I might go the extra mile and linger a bit afterwards.”

“Oh, my gods, like a sleepover?” you say sarcastically, bringing your hands up to hold your cheeks like a child. Prompting him to immediately swat them away as if the mere sight of them makes him want to vomit.

Which only makes you laugh and reach for his face, pulling him down for another kiss that quickly becomes something more than intended. The simple act fuelling Astarion’s desire to progress. To pin you down further into the bedroll as he inevitably detaches himself, opting for other parts of your body to cling to as he makes his way down. The process of it all driving your mind wild as he effortlessly nips and sucks a series of markings into your skin. His own mind finding the blooms of colour to be rather beautiful as he continues down your neck and chest, lingering at your stomach before he pushes your shirt over your head to gain better access.

“Beautiful,” you hear him mutter then. His voice soft and low —an echo of your own thoughts as you glance down to see him sitting up to discard your pants. His hands tucking themselves under the waistband to awkwardly shuck them down as you lift your hips to help.

Then, everything moves at exactly the right pace. As Astarion continues his descent to settle between your thighs, there are no more words needed. Only the resolve to survive as his cold hands graze the edge of your cunt, pushing the fabric aside so that he can get a decent look before pushing his thumb through your folds.

“Unsurprisingly ready, I see,” he practically scolds, but in response you say nothing. Instead, opting to buck your hips ever so slightly to egg him on, causing a low sigh to waft gently across your skin before he gives in.

At which point, you’ve already built everything up so highly in your head. The mere image of it making the actual act feel all the more satisfying as he begins to work your slit. Using both his thumb and tongue to taunt and tease —barely applying enough pressure to strengthen the imaginary band beneath your flesh.

It’s horrific, you think. The ability he has to render you so completely willing and useless. Because not only is it simultaneously the best and worst thing you’ve ever experienced, but it’s obviously dangerous too. Bordering on a sign of weakness that has you whimpering for more as he eventually wraps his lips around your clit to suckle the sensitive skin. Humming in response to the sounds that slip from your lips as he continues to stimulate the surrounding area.

“Fuck, Astarion—“

Your voice catches. Failing to continue once it dawns on you that words aren’t really necessary right now. Not when he’s giving you what you want in the form of nips and licks that become almost pressurized once you feel the presence of his nose begin to make its way down. The end of it nudging the space where his mouth once was. Acting as some sort of placeholder as his tongue begins to ravage your folds in ways that make your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. Your mind emptying to make room for your body to take over, causing you to reach down and grab the roots of his hair for something to anchor to.

Something you know he enjoys based on the hum that reverberates against your entrance. The sensation of it only furthering your arousal as he picks up the pace, driving you closer and closer to the edge with rough fingers that begin to push inside of you. Each one curling to stack the pleasure until you’re writhing beneath him —panting so loud that you’re sure the whole camp can hear you.

Not that you care, though. Not when Astarion’s pumping his fingers so ruthlessly. Not when he’s lapping hungrily through your flesh. Not when he’s moaning against your cunt, begging for you to let go.

In fact, the only thing you care about is the feeling of that final snap. The aforementioned band cracking against your base to create a series of punishing aftershocks that have you raising your hips. Your body moving to get away but finding itself unable when Astarion roughly moves to hold you down, continuing his ministrations as you cover your mouth to stop yourself from waking up the entire bloody camp.

Which only serves as fuel for him to lift his head and look at your writhing form. The entirety of you twitching and squirming as his fingers remained locked in their routine, unable to stop due to how delicious you look pleading for him to stop long after he’s dipping his head back between your thighs to sink his teeth into the plushest part. Drawing enough blood to feed as you cry out, no longer able to fight him.

#come get y'alls juice #or blood or whatever

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