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When Katsuki got hit with a quirk, that made him tell what he actually thinks it felt like the world stopped, well for him.
You were trying so hard to maintain your composure when he sprinted into your room with his hand over his mouth.
"What happened?" You asked, and he wrote it down in a paper you had on your desk. "Got hit by a quirk, and I can't stop saying shit," you read and quirked your brow at him "shit like what?"
Real shit
You read and huffed at him while he still couldn't take off his hand of his mouth.
"Just stay like that and don't move. Did they tell you how long it will last?" He denied with his head, and you scratched the back of your neck. "Well, I'll do the talking then. You just have to listen"
He rolled his eyes at you. He didn't mind listening to you talk, but he did mind making the effort to not answer you back to keep the conversation on. For the last years, he realized that it was easy having a friendship with you, and lately, after you two started a friendship with benefits, fuck buddies, he felt in sync with you most of the time.
"How did you end up getting hit with that? Oh no, don't say anything, " you giggled when you looked at his face. He was actually suffering. It was a mixture between suffering and incredulity.
It was easy for you to have him around. You wouldn't deny the fact that your friendship with him had been growing in a way you never expected. Fulfilling some sort of comfort that you never had with anyone.
"Have you seen the others? Kirishima or Kaminari?" You asked while he was practically dead in your bed. You started folding your clothes, waiting for his response, but it never came. "I think you can answer me with yes or no without spilling something juicy"
He quirked a brow at you, holding his upper body on his elbows.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. If you are afraid to talk, there must be something really juicy on your mind that you don't want us to know. " his eyes get plastered in yours, and your eyes widen in sudden realization. "It's not us. You don't want me to know"
He panicked.
He knew you well. He knew that when you have something in mind, there is no human or extraterrestrial force to take it off. You won't drop the topic, uh-uh, you'll push it out of his system, you will bend him until he cracks, and now, with his incapability to talk, he was clearly in disadvantage.
"C'mon Katsuki, I'm your dearest and longest friend, we've been since high school, you know you can tell me anything." You pushed your buttons. The clothes you were folding laid discarded on the opposite of the room while you approached him slowly like a predator chased its prey.
He needed to keep it cool. He needed to remain strong. The mantra kept playing in his head, and it worked for a while until he saw you kneeling in front of him in a position he knew very well. Fuck you.
"Don't look at me like that," you faked innocence. "I'm just using all the options I have"
You weren't going to do anything.
The look on his face was the main reason you stepped up your game. You threw your hands above his thigh, touching and squeezing the fat of them in a sexy way, very subtly. He flinched at the sudden contact, and you could swear that you saw a drop of sweat forming in the line of his hair.
"You don't need to talk while I blow you, do you?"
He grew impatiently seeing you there, your doe eyes, and your playful smile, meaning nothing but trouble.
You bit your lower lip in between your teeth at the sight of his growing bulge. It was getting out of hand, and you needed to bail before it evolved in something you wouldn't be able to stop.
"I'm just messing with you, relax." You left a tiny squeeze above his knee cap and pretended that it was just a game you were playing and not something that was getting you in the mood.
You weren't a masochist and he was your best friend.
You were preparing yourself to stand again when he, in a sudden and fast movement, grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pulled you toward him.
Your face was mere inches from his face, and your legs were now straddling his figure.
"What are you-"
The blood on your body rose and accumulated in your cheeks. It wasn't a weird position for you, but it was the intense look of his face that got you trembling under his touch.
"You fucking asked for it" he growled lowly. A tiny but strong spark went down on your spine, making you shiver. "Now shut up and listen for once, I don't know whats happening between you and me but lately I've been craving you even more, your skin, your kisses, when you bite my lip and scream my name when I'm inside of you"
His minty breath was fanning above your lips, and his crimson eyes never left yours.
"But that isn't enough anymore"
That sentence snapped your senses again. You regained control of your factions and your brows knitted at the sudden feeling of losing him.
"What do you mean with that"
The bold you that was eager to get the information from him at any cost shrinked. It was the end of you two. Memories and images passed through your mind like a movie, and when you were about to tear up, he pinched your hip.
You glanced at him through wet lashes. He took a deep breath and smirked. If he was nervous, he never showed.
"I need more. I need you with me in the mornings, I need you with me throughout the day, I need you chopping my ear off every time you get excited with something, I want to watch every shitty reality you want to watch, I want you to scold me everytime I say something mean about our friends and I need to see you here everytime I come home. I want you to stay and not leave, " he puked the words to you. His pupils were dilated, moving from one side to another, looking for a reaction from you. You were shocked.
He closed his eyes, thinking he screwed it. It was done, and if it was done, he would leave completely empty.
"I just want to cuddle with you after we have sex, I really like feeling you curled up against my body, it make me feel warm on the inside. I like the smell of your hair and your body, I like the way you laugh and the way you do that weird dance every time you win at something. And it drives me crazy having all these feelings for you. It's killing me that you don't realize that I love you"
You stopped breathing. He blurted the last sentences very slowly, giving everything up, including you. It was regret and hurt, but at least it was off of his chest.
He was still looking down when he felt both of your hands grabbing each side of his face. You were smiling through the tears that were rolling down your red cheeks.
"I can't believe that it took you getting hit by a quirk to confess your feelings for me"
Before he could say anything, you crashed your lips with his in a hungry and passionate kiss that melted all the regret and unpleasant feelings away.
For Katsuki, the world started spinning again.
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₊✩‧₊ ⎯ Bakugo goes with you to Disney world!
『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ✩ content; fun & fluffy fluff, soft bakugo ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — I was visiting family in Florida and wanted to spread some magic to my favorite. 💕
The flares of the Florida sun beat down on your exposed skin, humidity wrapping around your body like a blanket. The thin coat of sweat under your clothes wasn’t going to ruin your mood, but it definitely might ruin your boyfriend’s.
“Fuck, s’hot,” Bakugo grumbles, taking off his hat to wipe the sweat gathered on his forehead with the back of his free hand. “Knew you said it’d be a sticky heat, but goddamn. We haven’t even gotten in’ta the park yet and I’m dyin’.”
“Sorry babes, it’ll be better once we’re off the ferry,” you reassured, knowing that the trip across the water to the main entrance is always the hottest part of the trek. The ferry was packed with families donning various themed outfits - matching t-shirts, Disney princess costumes, and tons of little ones with Mickey and Minnie ears on their heads.
Bakugo leans over to you, snickering at a few kids running across the deck. “That kid’s gonna have the best sleep of his life tonight.”
A gentle smile settling on your lips as you watched the joy exude from the toddler, giggling up a storm with his mom.
“I can’t remember a time I had a sliver of that kinda energy,” you joke, lulling your head back as the wind swept through your ponytail. “Or a decent night’s sleep.”
“Ya had plenty of energy last night,” he laughs, smirking as you smack him on the arm while the ferry approaches the dock. Bakugo takes your hand when you stand to exit the boat, interlocking his fingers with your own. The greenery of the entrance flourishes under the sun’s rays, immediately catching your attention. You pull him to the side, standing in front of the landscape with the plaque that reads “Magic Kingdom” and the anniversary celebration signage. Before you can ask him to take a picture together, he’s already tugging you closer and taking out his phone from his pocket.
“Knew you were gonna ask, you and your sentimental ass,” Bakugo quips, unlocking his fingers from your grasp in exchange for a spot on your waist.
“Scoot in close baby, I wanna get the flowers an’ shit.” He angles his phone to catch both of you with the flower display and the entry sign in the background, and to your surprise, he’s got the cheesiest smile on his face when he takes the shot.
“Go stand over there,” he demands, patting you on the small of your back when he lets go of your waist. You shoot him a confused stare, about to ask why before he cuts you off.
“I want a shot of my favorite princess. Stand over there an’ look pretty for me, peach.”
“Aww, Disney Magic already making you sappy?” You tease, sticking your tongue out him playfully to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. He huffs while signaling you to move into the perfect spot. Once he’s satisfied with the position, you pose sweetly without hesitation with your foot propped up and cute little peace sign. Bakugo’s heart leaps into his throat when he studies your beautiful face through his screen, instantly setting the photo as his lock screen.
Both of you make your way to the gates and scan your magic bands, the signature chime and green light letting the two of you proceed into Magic Kingdom. Strolling through the Main Street Square, you stop in your tracks at the sight of Cinderella’s Castle, taking in its majestic glow with starry eyes.
“Wow, what a beautiful fu-uh, freakin’, sight,” Bakugo says, trying to watch his language around all the kids roaming the town square. You can’t help but giggle at his instance to be “family friendly,” trying his damndest not to curse at his natural 110% volume level. Jokingly, you told him earlier at breakfast that Mickey Mouse would pop out of a bush and scold him for cursing too much if he got caught and he’d end up in Disney Jail.
“So, where to first?” You question, bouncing on your heels with excitement. “Wanna meet your actual favorite princess?”
“Fu-screw off,” he snorts, squeezing your hand in jest. “…maybe later.”
You start walking down Main Street, navigating the crowds to head to the little nook between the castle and Tomorrowland. Peaking around the line queue, you squeal with excitement when you see Merida posing with a family of five.
“Look, there she is!”
Bakugo wasn’t really sure why he was nervous, he knew it was an actress, but a familiar childlike sense of wonder had him wanting to kick his feet with enthusiasm over the thought of meeting his favorite Disney princess. Merida happens to glance toward the two of you as you pass by the line queue before the next family gets her attention, waving when she sees you smile at her. Bakugo doesn’t know what to do, a weird fluttering sensation in his stomach as he manages to give a small wave back.
“Don’t get too soft on me now,” you quip, elbowing him in the side. "I happen to like your grumpy ass."
He barks out a laugh, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “M’not soft, princess. You’ll be askin’ for the opposite later.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, biting it playfully while you dramatically swat at him to cut it out.
The two of you meander through Magic Kingdom as the day goes on, jumping on rides, watching the parades, sharing snacks, and absorbing all the magic the park offered. You can’t remember a time where you’ve seen Bakugo smile for hours on end, enjoying your company and having the a blast - even in the blistering heat! He went into a laughing fit watching you walk off of Space Mountain all wobbly the entire walk down the exit ramp from dizziness. And when he beat your score on the Buzz Lightyear ride, he insisted on buying the souvenir picture to prove his victory over you…and because he wants to hang it in the living room when you get home.
The day winds down, the sunset splayed across the horizon as the two of you settle into a spot in front of the castle, patiently waiting for the fireworks display to begin. The refreshing sensation of orange flavored dole whip hits your tongue, taking a few scoops before handing the cup back to Bakugo.
"Isn't this the life?" You ask, leaning back on your hands to stretch out your legs. "Can't believe I got you to wear matching Mickey ears."
"Y'didn't, you bought them when I said no," he retorts, rolling his eyes as he takes another bite of dole whip. "But I'm glad ya did, they're stupidly cute."
He sets the half-eaten cup on the sidewalk next to him, reaching into his pocket for his phone. "C'mere, before it gets too dark."
Bakugo tugs you closer, leaning against you as he hands you his phone to take a picture. When you're about to push the shutter button, he surprises you by planting a sweet peck on your cheek, a gleeful smile crossing your lips. When you look back at it, you can't help but think this is real - your boyfriend, the Katsuki Bakugo, one of Japan's top ten heroes, is here with you in Disney World, happy as can be, wearing matching Mickey ears and taking silly selfies with you.
"I'm starting to think you're the sentimental one."
"Can't a guy show off his girl?"
His girl.
"Color me shocked you wanted to be seen in those," you point to the Mickey ears atop his hat.
"Peach, y'know I'd do anything for ya at this point. I like bein' all cute and shit with you, and only you."
And you know what? That was a good enough answer. Bakugo flashes you a toothy grin before putting his phone back in his pocket, scooching closer so your hips are touching and offering you the last of the dole whip. The fireworks start a few moments later, the two of you lost in the beautiful explosive lights for the entire show.
Later that night, when you finally trudged back to the hotel, you have a notification of a new tagged photo that catches your attention - from Dynamight001. The caption of the photo set is short and sweet, thousands of likes and comments already flooding the post as he uploaded it on his main hero account.
"home's anywhere you are.🧡"
You're swiping through the photos, and there's one you didn't know he took at the very end. It's of you while watching the fireworks, the reflects of color sparkling in your eyes with a smile on your face.
Your heart beats against your ribs, overflowing with love for him as he waltzes out of the bathroom in his sweats. He sees the look on your face and chuckles, tackling you to the bedsheets and peppers your neck with kisses.
"Get off your phone already and in'ta bed, baby. We've got another long day tomorrow."
You hum in acknowledgement, tossing your phone onto the nightstand and sinking under the comforter to snuggle up into his chest - just the way he loves.
And you can't help but think to yourself, he's right.
Home's anywhere you are.
Disney bound!; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq @liluvtojineteyam
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Sleight of Hand
Astarion x Tav (she/her used)
Summary: Tav is terrible at lock-picking, and Astarion is great with his hands.
A/N: Set around Act 3. Tav and Astarion are in a committed relationship and the party is thoroughly confused/disgusted.
“Shit���“
Astarion dug some dirt out from under his fingernail with the tip of a dagger. He sighed loudly, examining the crusted blood and muck circling each cuticle. The sooner they finished up here, the sooner he could scrub this mess off his body properly back at camp.
“—Fuck!”
His crimson eyes dragged upwards towards the sounds of frustration, watching with pure boredom as Tav continued to try and lock-pick the door to a run-down building in the southernmost part of the city. She’d been going at it for over 20 minutes, and as he had reminded her (more than once), time was not on their side in this situation. They needed to get in and get out, fast. Astarion internally groaned as Tav slid the pick into the keyhole for the 52nd time.
“Darling,” he said as pleasantly as possible, “please allow me. I’m exceptionally more skilled at this than you, and I can—“
“No!” She turned to give him a sidelong glare, “I’ve got this. Just…give me a moment, it’s almost there.”
He clicked his tongue. From beside him, Shadowheart sighed, slumping against the sun-warmed stone wall. Gale, ever the eager helper, hunched over a crouching Tav, muttering encouragements at her (frankly pathetic) attempts. Astarion’s upper lip began to curl into a snarl as Gale shifted closer towards her ear, whispering something that caused her to grin. Noises coming from the street above triggered them all to startle, the sound of clanking metal signifying an incoming approach of the Steel Watch. Astarion didn’t waste any time, crouching behind Tav and encircling her with his arms, placing both hands atop hers.
“As truly remarkable as you are—“ he began to move their hands in unison, guiding the lock-pick tools into the keyhole, “—sleight of hand is not one of your strengths my love.” A few more strokes of his fingers over hers, pressing the pick downwards while the other pried to the right, and they both felt the lock click.
It had taken mere seconds.
Tav’s voice was tight as she pulled her hands away, “It’s not my fault your—“
“—hands are more dexterous than yours?” Astarion purred in her ear, pocketing both tools into his jacket.
“I was going to say more used to being a degenerate, but whatever makes you feel better.”
He laughed softly as to not give away their location, the sound of the approaching guards growing louder. “Oh my darling,” he reached around to open the door, caging her between himself and the wooden frame, “Keep it up and I’ll show you how much of a degenerate I can be, hands and all.”
She felt her entire body flush as Astarion brushed past, deft fingers dragging across her hip. Shadowheart followed quickly behind him, pausing before the doorway beside a frozen Tav.
“A friendly reminder that the Elfsong isn’t very conducive when it comes to���private matters. So do be sure to keep quiet later on, some of us would like to get some sleep.”
For a brief moment, Tav considered just throwing herself to the mercy of the Steel Watch rather than deal with this embarrassment, but Gale quickly grabbed her arm and dragged her into the building without another word.
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Teaching Astarion how to hug tho 🥺
He is so awkward, never knowing where to put his hands because you aren't a mere conquest - you're his beloved. He doesn't want to tar you with that same brush.
"Astarion, I'm freezing!" You whine, running up to him and pressing your face into his chest. Faerun is in the dead of winter, and your vampire is colder than usual. He's like a block of ice.
"Actually... I'm not sure if you're the best person to come to..." you wonder, a hint of mischief in your voice.
"N-No, no!" he panics, forcing you back against his body with an iron grip. His arms are so stiff, it feels more like a scroll of holding than a hug.
"Don't go to anybody else. I don't want to see you in the arms of anybody else..."
His admittance is cute, especially when he's so bashful about it.
"Hold me."
Astarion tries. He awkwardly pats your back and doesn't quite understand why you aren't pulling away yet. The hug is over. Isn't it?
"Put your hands on me."
Straight away, he's got them on your chest, your pert nipples peering through the fabric rather distracting...
"Not there," you huff, taking his hands and winding them around your back. He leaves them there without a word, but they're limp now.
"With some feeling. Snuggle me."
Your words just don't compute. Even when you try nuzzling into his torso. He pulls his arms a little tighter, but it's more like a rope pulling taut than a comforting hug.
"Tighter than that. Hold me like you're stopping me from falling into a muddy puddle."
He leaps into action and lifts your entire body up, spinning you playfully to where he would consider a dryer spot. It's enough to illicit giggles and smiles but as he places you back down gently, you realise he's got it. When he's lost in your eyes, pleased to hear the sweet sound of your laughing and watch the way your mouth curves...
His arms are just right, they're almost cradling you.
There is a pause.
But you snuggle yourself into him like a cat searching for a soft place to sleep, letting him hold onto that fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Astarion doesn't need to be told that this is the correct way to hug, because he can feel it.
Before long, he is surprising you with hugs and genuinely enjoying them as far as contact goes whilst he's trying to repair his relationship with sex and intimacy.
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Reader giving Astarion the nickname “Starry Eyes” is such an adorable little headcanon I got goin in my head
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Unholy Desire
Pairing: spawn!Astarion x female!Tav (the reader is Tav)
Warnings: 18+, religious kink, breeding kink, innuendo, dry humping, mutual pining, reclaiming sexuality through kink, they talk out their feelings
Word count: 2.7k
Summary: Takes place in Act 3, pre-Cazador. You've finally made it to Baldur's Gate. You take time to offer prayers to your God after coming upon a small church on the outskirts of the city. You and your lover have grown closer over these long weeks, healing past wounds within your hearts, minds, and souls. Your desire has grown to become... sinful. You have a choice to consider: your Oath, or your lover?
This is the third camping spot you and your team find on the outskirts of Baldur's Gate. Rotating spots every few days was probably the best course of action, lest the Flaming Fists come to chase you away in the middle of the night.
You find an old abandoned church during your inspection of these latest campgrounds. It has been a while since you had a proper spot to sit and pray. Lathander has been kind in your journey, thus far. You hadn't offered thanks nearly enough for shining light in the darkest depths of the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Despite the challenges you faced, you and your companions arrived safely to Baldur's Gate. You kneel down behind a bench within the church and fold your hands in prayer. You hang your head and close your eyes. The sun begins to warm your skin as it shines through a crack in the church ceiling. A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth; Lathander is receptive to your prayer offering.
You don't recall how long you remain in that position, praying to the Morninglord. When your eyes lift up, you notice that night has fallen. You see a faint glow in the distance, surely that of the campfire. Faint bits of conversation travel along the night air. The conversation sounds jovial; it's probably fine for you to stay here a bit longer.
Astarion stands in the doorway to the small church, eyes fixated on you as you kneel once again in prayer. He'd come searching for you after your companions failed to reveal your whereabouts. He scoffs softly upon entering the abandoned structure. He thanks the tadpole nestled in his skull for affording him the luxury of waltzing straight into a church. Were this a few months ago, he surely would have burst into cinders upon the first step.
You hear a small 'crunch' off to your left; your head shoots up and your eyes settle on Astarion, who is frozen in place. You will your features to soften at the realization it was only your partner, your lover, who came to check on you. "Are you certain you're a rogue?" you speak to him through the darkness.
Moonlight pours through the ceiling and bathes his face as he comes closer to you, now within full view. He looks ethereal in the pale light. The moonlight reflects off his silver hair in a halo. His eyes glint like newly-polished ruby gemstones, his skin glows like the finest cut ivory. You find it challenging at times to believe he is your mate on this journey. Difficult to accept that the two of you had shared a bed on multiple occasions. The thought makes your mouth dry and your head swim. You shake your head slightly, clearing your mind of such perverse thoughts.
"My dear," he begins, his signature posh tone dripping from each word, "if you've truly forgotten just how deft I am with my hands..." Astarion sits next to your knelt form. He drops a hand to cup your chin, gently tilting your face up to meet his, "...then perhaps you need reminding."
You swallow thickly as he holds your face, and watch his eyes begin to hood. A smile graces his lips and he releases your chin. He scans the church briefly, snickering. "What in the hells are you even doing here? It's rather... drab, darling."
You stand up and brush yourself off. You proceed to then sit next to him on the bench. "I'm praying, Astarion." You take a deep breath in and meet his eyes. "Lathander has been most kind on our journey. I haven't given him nearly enough of my thanks."
Astarion audibly scoffs. "Ugh, I can clearly see that. But why, is my question."
"We made it safely to Baldur's Gate," you explain. "That's more than enough to be thankful for."
Astarion suddenly stands up and over you. A scowl graces his visage, "And you didn't think to tell me you'd be here?" He places one hand upon his hip. "No one had any idea where you'd gone!" His face falls and he averts his gaze to the side. "I was... concerned that you were still out in the city."
You chuckle. Astarion has a softer side to him that sometimes slips out of his otherwise gruff facade. It makes your heart sing with delight each time you see it.
"I'm Baldurian, my love. Remember? I know the city streets quite well." You reach out to hold the hand at his side, and his palm wraps around yours. "I also happen to be a Paladin."
You follow his eyes as they fall upon the floor. The grip on your hand tightens. "And it's not exactly a daily occurrence to have a blood-thirsty vampiric master hunting you." He sighs, soft eyes regaining their focus on you, "Please, darling, just give me some warning next time."
Ah, he's worried you may have been snatched by Cazador. You stand to meet him and wrap your arms around his neck. "My apologies, Astarion. It was not my intention to make you worry." You bury your face in his neck and breathe in. Bergamot, rosemary, and brandy; his signature scent. You feel your body slowly mold against his as the smell floods your olfactory receptors. There have been many nights you've fallen asleep dreaming of this scent. It was oddly comforting to you. It makes you feel safe and secure.
Astarion rests his hands upon your hips and leans his cheek against your temple. You stand together in the small ruined church, holding one another, bathed in moonlight from the cracked ceiling above. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me," a low rumble escapes his chest as he speaks. His hands begin to snake up your back, his palms resting on your shoulder blades, "Any clue what I think about when I'm alone in my tent at night?"
You slide a hand up into his hair, twirling the locks between your fingers. You litter featherlight kisses along his jawline, and he tilts his head back to give you better access. The hand in his hair tightens, holding him in place. A soft groan escapes his lips as you lick a stripe up the center of his neck. "I don't think you've ever told me," you say.
He shivers within your touch. You watch his eyes flit to the back of his head as you suckle at the scars upon his neck, "Hells, Tav, I've told you so many times..." his voice comes as a soft whisper into the night air. Astarion's hands slide down your back and to your waist, gripping your hips.
"Remind me," you insist as you watch a purple mark bloom on his neck. His hips stutter into yours, and you feel the hardening length of him ever so lightly brush across your mound. You tilt his head to gain access to the opposite side of his neck, and your mouth descends once more.
Another moan escapes his lips and he lowers his face to your ear. "I..." You feel his hands sink lower, coming to rest on your backside, "I think of you below me." Astarion’s breath is cool yet heavy in your ear as his hips begin to meet yours in a soft rhythm, "Or, bent over, with my cock splaying your darling little cunt."
Your hands drop to his biceps as a shutter passes over you. Your hips involuntarily grind against his, pleasured groans slipping free from both of your lips at the joint friction. His hands grip your ass and he holds you against him. You feel the outline of him press against your sex; your walls clench around the thought of him buried to the hilt inside you.
You lean back in his hold and he dips his face to your neck, nose tracing the outline of your pulse point. You shiver as Astarion begins placing chilled kisses against your carotid artery, and you once again lace your hands through his hair.
"I think about your greedy pussy milking my cock for as much of my spend as it can…" Astarion takes a hand off your behind and guides it to your clothed mound, pressing his fingers slightly upward as he swipes across the general vicinity of your clit, "...until you’re positively overflowing, and my seed weeps down your folds into a pool under us." You buck into his palm at the pressure of his fingers. Your hips grind down instinctively against his hand, and you mewl into his neck.
"Please," you beg, "what else do you think about?" Your voice is airy and ragged. You notice the door of the church is open, meaning anyone could see your current state, were they to come over. You feel a sensual twist in your abdomen, and your hands begin untying Astarion's trousers. You need this man stripped and bare before you, getting caught be damned.
His hands come to rest upon your own. "Oh dear, whatever could I have possibly said to put you in such a state?" he feigns coyness as he takes over for you, undoing the knots to his pants. “Are you certain you can handle knowing more?” You raise your head to meet his gaze and nod, slowly. Your eyes are hooded over in lust and you feel a warm blush begin to creep across your face.
Astarion raises a hand to cup the side of your face in his palm. His lips come to grace the shell of your ear, nipping at it softly with his blunted front teeth. The hand on your cheek begins to slide down to your throat and his fingers wrap around the column of your neck. His grip tightens into light pressure against your throat. “Do you truly want to hear…” his tongue traces the curve of your ear down to the lobe, “how I bring myself to completion…” his teeth tug at your earlobe, “...at the thought of you, swollen, with the ultimate consequence of our couplings?” His voice is a whisper in your ear, and you feel your knees threatening to buckle. You groan and extend your neck, a silent offering to the hand on your throat to hold tighter.
He guides one of your hands between the apex of his thighs and cups his swollen length in your palm. Even clothed, you could feel how hard he is. It sends electric shooting down your spine, resonating as a throb of your sex. He sucks in a breath at the pressure of your hand. A broken moan escapes his lips and he speaks into your ear again, “Have you any idea how terribly my body yearns to breed you?”
Your head swims, slowly losing all connection to this material plane of existence. To carry the child of an undead would be blasphemy; you would lose your Oath and fall out of favor with Lathander. Yet… you breathe heavily at the thought of being pumped so full of cum that your womb no longer has room for it. Your pussy throbs at the thought of falling pregnant from such a situation. You feel wetness gathering at the center of your thighs.
“Wouldn't that be the epitome of a holy offering to your God of life?” Astarion moves to press his forehead against yours, and kisses the tip of your nose.
“He's…” you try to rasp out a reply, but your voice fails you. Your face is burning and your thoughts are a muddled mess.
“He's what, dear?” You can hear the amusement in Astarion's voice, knowing he has gotten you to the point where your mind can no longer form coherent thoughts.
“He's… also the God of birth,” you force out. You feel his cock twitch against your palm as the words leave your lips. A shiver passes through you at the thought of giving birth to an undead child, Astarion's undead child. Would it even be possible?
“My, my…” You manage to open your eyes and catch the devious smirk gracing his lips, “how entirely sinful that would be. Your holy womb, thoroughly disgraced by the planting of my seed.” Astarion's lips form into a pout, his voice taking on a soft mocking tone, “I wonder if your God would forsake you for such a thing?”
You often forget Astarion is an undead; he played the part of the living so well, would easily blend into any crowd. Yet, during times like these, he relished in his unholy attributes. He'd long teased you about your devotion to Lathander, went on long monologues about how the Gods were graceless and inevitably forsook everyone. He'd told you how he prayed to every God he knew of during the year he was sealed in a tomb by Cazador. None had answered him. He was bitter, you knew this. And yet… he was also enamored by your devotion. Jealous, even, that your attention was divided between him, and a God.
Your arms come to rest upon his shoulders once more, and you move your head slightly back from his. Your eyes find one another; you hadn't noticed before, but your chosen conversation is having an impact on him, as well. Astarion's pupils are blown wide, the reds of his irises becoming thin rings. “...Could we even do that?” you question, “Could we actually… could I… Now?”
A chuckle escapes his chest. The corner of his tips turns upward into a smile. “Now probably isn't the best time, my sweet. Unless you'd like an audience.” He nods his head in the direction of your companions sitting around the campfire.
Suddenly, your periphery vision returns to you. You recall you're in the small abandoned church within camp, with your companions mere feet away from you. You'd almost begged Astarion to take you within earshot of your companions… in a church, after having just finished your prayers. A scowl graces your lips at the thought.
“Oh, don't be so sour,” Astarion says, tucking strands of hair behind your ear, “We can always try to make this a reality later tonight?”
“Astarion, is it even possible for you to sire a child?” You watch his lips purse into a flat line with your questioning, obviously offended, “I mean, with your… condition.”
Silence stretches long between you. You watch his gaze fall to the laces of his trousers and he begins to retie the knots. The silence is uncomfortable, and you begin to fear you'd said the wrong thing. Yet, you genuinely did not know. Could it happen? You'd not taken precautions during your past encounters. Could it have possibly… already happened? You shift uneasily and remove your arms from his neck.
“...I read a book while out with Gale one afternoon,” he finally says, grasping your wrists before your arms return to your sides. His fingers weave between your own, joining your hands. “He'd been raving about visiting ‘Sorcerous Sundries’ again. Something about an old, dusty tome of some sort,” he scoffs. “I haven't a damned clue what he was talking about.”
Your eyes widen. “You went out shopping, willingly, with Gale?”
“I know,” he sighs, “rather unbecoming of me. Though, I often have reasons for my madness.” He raises one of your joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand, “One being… us. And what our future could be.”
“Astarion…” It dawns on you: he took the afternoon with Gale to research this very topic. To find out if this could ever be a reality for you both.
He unlaces one of your joined hands and brings his palm up to hold the side of your face. “As it turns out, so long as you keep me well-fed, that of which you already do…” a genuine smile graces his lips, “this could very much be a thing between us.”
You smile and raise your hand to cover the one on your cheek, turning your face into his palm. You kiss the inside of his palm, “I think it's best we return to everyone else, lest we get tempted again to start.”
“Of course, dear. I would have to agree,” Astarion turns toward the doorway of the abandoned church, holding out a hand toward you. “Our chosen company of weirdos may turn up with pitchforks should I not return with you in tow rather soon.”
You place your hand in his and follow his lead toward the doorway. “Another night, then?” you suggest.
“No, my sweet,” he says, kissing the back of your hand once more, “tonight would make a lovely opportunity to start.”
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Pairing: Astarion x reader
Prompt: In which you couldn't convince Astarion not to become the Vampire ascendant, but still do not allow him to do the ritual.
Description: You really did fall so hard, and so, so fast. No wonder when the ground came to meet you did it hurt just as much. But perhaps its not too late to stand back up again, if someone was willing to lend a hand.
Rating: sfw
Content Warning: hurt/comfort
Word Count: 3018
Notes: I had to save scum this so much on my file that was romancing him. And well I be thinking about him a lot lately... I litterally have no idea where these words came from btw so I hope u enjoy them!
“It’s over,” Said with such disdain, such pain and hurt, directed your way. “I’m done with this, and I’m done with you.” Venom, dripping and cold. What happened to the warmth in those eyes? To the love that once shown in them, when he looked your way? “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.” He looked so broken, so hurt.
You hardly remembered what came next, beyond your own tears. Astarion simply… left. Walk away as you crumpled to the ground, in disbelief. As you begged him to say. When you told him, over and over again, that you loved him.
Karlach and Shadowheart must have dragged you out of those dungeons, otherwise you might still be there, wallowing in your pity. You don’t remember how long it had been since then. Since you had stopped Cazador from ascending, freed Astarion from his grasp… and tried to convince him not to ascend himself. Your words may have failed, but your actions didn’t; you didn’t let him use your eyes to copy his scars. You couldn’t.
All for him to walk away.
You hadn’t really been the same, since then. Where once you were the leader of your little ragtag group of adventurers, now you couldn’t find it in you to leave your tent. Well… Astarion’s tent, actually. You never had one of your own. And when the two of you got together, it just seemed natural to share.
Gale had taken over in leading everyone for day to day adventuring on your behalf. Even though you wished it, the world would not slow down because you were hurt. No kindness spared on your broken, broken heart. Yet you couldn’t stop wondering where you went wrong. Were the two of you not as close as you thought? Could you have been more convincing, hell, more intimidating, anything to have kept him by your side?
You think, right now, it’s night. Your candle’s are all stuffed out, the bustle of the streets beyond are quiet, and you can’t hear the patter and stomps of Scratch and the owlbear cub playing around camp. Your tears have all but dried, even if your sorrow remains as fresh as a new wound. No, all is silent in this moment.
You take a deep breath. Yes, it would be best to sleep. Maybe tomorrow, you would wake up and feel like a person again. One who could attend to all her duties. And maybe even get back on the path to save Baldur’s gate.
But sleep never comes for those whose hearts are so heavy. This isn’t the first night you’ve lied awake, thoughts wondering. All for the better, perhaps-- because in the heavy quiet of the cities dark night, you hear the flap of your tent open with the utmost quietness. And you, just as quiet, sit up from your laying position. Who ever has invaded your space must have dark vision, for they pause upon seeing your form and do not move an inch.
“I can see you there.” Your voice comes out, gravelly and rough. You don’t sense your in danger, though, even as your heart beats and pounds in your chest. Who would be stupid enough to steal from a camp full of adventurers, with an owlbear lurking around no less. Still, with some trepidation, you cast the cantrip for light, and watch as your messy tent (and new guest) are bathed in cool, blue light.
“Oh,” Is all you think to say. You can’t really trust your eyes, so you rub the days of built up sleep and sorrow from them. No, you can’t even speak his name as you stare upon him. But you dare not look away. Even if it was a dream, it was him. It was him.
“...You’re a mess.” His words are soft, quiet. He seems to relax a little when he sees you make no movement.
“...I suppose I am.” You clear your throat a little after speaking, if only because a new lump seems to be forming now that you look to him. “How… how can I help you, Astarion?”
“Gods…” He heaves a heavy sigh, looking over your pitiful form. “I’ve hurt you this much, and you still think to help me? Are you stupid?” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Perhaps.” You nod softly. “Stupid enough to fall in love with you, after all.” You can only smile weakly at him.
“I came here too…” He frowns, looking away from you for a moment. “Well it doesn’t matter why I came back. You clearly need some sense knocked back into you.” With that, he moves in closer to you. Surprised, you move in a little in order to accommodate him. You try to ignore the beating of your heart, ignore the hope that rises within you like a phoenix from its ashes.
“What… are you going to do?” You turn to him, nestled into your side like he might have been not too long ago.
“Talk, as terrible as that sounds.” He keeps his gaze down, looking at the messed up bedding.
“Talk?” You repeat. “I thought you… didn’t want to see me again.”
“Well, that was then. This is now.” Astarion looks to you. To the bags built up under your eyes. Your cheeks, still rosy and sensitive with just how many tears you’ve shed (for him, no less). Your hair is unkempt and as gross as you are, all he can see is someone that loves him… “I… said and did some terrible things during that ritual. Things that… looking back, I may not have done were I in the right head space.” He swallows hard. “I was… scared. And the promise of power, the smell of blood… it was all so intoxicating, I forgot myself there for a moment.”
The two of you sit in the silence a moment, festering in it. Words dance on the tip of your tongue but Astarion isn’t done speaking. He, too, needs a moment to compose himself. “But… you never forgot who I was.” He looks to you, something soft, something sad, something gentle written into the contours of his face. Even as he turns to you, he struggles to meet your eyes-- shining, glimmering, with something sweet and promising and loving in them. Something that he doesn’t deserve; not after the actions he took that day.
“You did everything in your power to convince me what I was doing was wrong, but all I could see then was the security that power could bring me.” He closes his eyes, taking a sharp intake of air though his nose. “I was so blinded, I could not see that with you by my side, I was the happiest I’ve ever been these past 200 years…” As he opens his eyes, he looks down to his folded hands, then over to yours. You realize that even if he is so close… Astarion hesitates to touch you. Maybe he felt as if he wasn’t allowed to do so any more, or perhaps felt he was no longer worthy… Whatever the reason, it breaks your heart just a little bit more.
“I… see.” It’s a lot to soak up. That in the moment, you couldn’t reach him but in the days sense Astarion has realized… maybe this was for the better.
“You saved me from becoming the very man I lived in fear of, and all I gave you in return was heartbreak.” He seeks your eyes, his own wide and wet and you realize he’s crying now. Tears flood your eyes as well, because he was right; you cared for him so much, though, it almost didn’t seem to matter. Almost. “How can I ever expect you to forgive me?” With that, he breaks, closing his eyes roughly and crying out, sobbing into his own hands.
All you can do in that moment is cry with him. Two, love sick idiots broken and hurt but not beyond mending-- not yet.
“It’s okay,” You find yourself struggling to say the words, even as you usher him into your arms and hold him. He does not hesitate to hold you in turn, to cry unto you as you into him. “We’ll be okay, I promise, I promise.” Your words come out as prayer as you hold him close. “Just don’t leave again, please!”
“I won’t, I won’t.” Astarion seems to compose himself more quickly than you do, but he does not let go, even as you know your tears stain his shirt. “I’ve got you and I won’t leave you ever again.” He rubs his hand along your back slowly, doing his best to try and comfort you in the same way you have for him in the past. It’s a long moment before you feel yourself begin to breathe normally again, before your tears once again dry and you find yourself staring into his red eyes once more.
“I love you,” Your words are softer than a whisper, said with a trembling smile.
“I love you too.” Astarion responds in kind, resting his forehead against yours. You two stay content a moment before he speaks again. “But you’re disgusting-- let me take care of you.” He pulls away from you and your left no room to argue. You merely blink, owlishly, as he pulls back. He moves to stand but you grab his hand.
“Where are you going?” You hold on to him with both hands now, and he has to pause to take the sudden fear on your face. Astarion had planned to leave to return with a little wash bin and rag but seeing you so distraught makes him pause. Of course, the last time he walked away from you he didn’t return…
“We’re going to get you cleaned up.” With a bit of a struggle, Astarion gets you to rise to your feet next to him. “Don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.” He adds. You nod slowly, still a little on edge from the panic that just flooded your system but nonetheless, trusting Astarion.
So, with the difficulty that comes with only having one hand, Astarion pins open the flaps of the tent (your light cantrip soon goes out as well, but the inside is illuminated but the torchlight of your camp). Some of the stale air you had been living in gets to escape, and you’re able to take a fresh breath of air you hadn’t realized you needed.
Astarion gathers his wash bin, and the rag, and with you in tow, rummages through that the travelers chest you seem to toss anything and everything into. But, avoiding unmatched boots and careful not to prick himself on all the arrows that are in there (and trying not to think about how they were likely dumped in there after he left), he finds what he was looking for-- some soap. And though the water is cold, and the night is cool, at least with a little bit of soap and his careful hand, it’s not all bad.
“You need to wash these clothes too,” Astarion huffs. “I know you have other things, so let’s get you into something cleaner.” You’re guided back into your shared tent (which is already starting to smell better, but the scented water is helping as well) while Astarion rifles though your clothing. Here together again, you finally let go of his hand but stay close to him.
“Thank you…” You pause, watching him pick out something comfortable and warm. “I can take care of myself, though.” You add, taking the clothing from him.
“I’m sure you can-- but I want to take care of you.” He doesn’t let go of your clothing as you try and take it. “So, let me.” His gaze flicks up to your eyes and you’re surprised to see him look so stubborn.
“Oh,” You let go of the clothing, surprised. “I… That would be nice.” You say it quietly, still too caught up in him being here, being real and touching you, loving you.
“Now, out of the nasty clothing, if you would.” He persists, grabbing the hem of your current shirt. He pauses before lifting it though, looking to your face. “That is, if you’re okay with me…” he trails, unsure.
“It’s you, so it’s okay.” You assure him. You raise your hands so he can take off the offending, stinky shirt, and toss it aside. Next, he removes your pants, tossing them the same direction.
“This might be a little cold,” Astarion tells you, but it doesn’t stop the flinch (nor the shiver) as the cool rag touches your skin. Still, his touch is delicate and careful.
He first wipes your face (part of it, still covered in blood and dirt from that same battle). He dips and wrings out the rag, before continuing his work. Your chest, your arms, legs-- all of you, gently washed and cared for. You realize this is the first time he’s been so intimate with you in a non sexual way. It’s… nice. To see his brow furrowed in concentration, have his hands upon you just hold you. It’s not like the two of you went entirely without touching one another in that time, but to have him initiating it, warms you.
“Now, back in your clothing before you catch a cold.” You nod at him and smile, sliding on the familiar pants and shirt with comfort and ease.
“I already feel a lot better, thank you.” He smiles softly, but sits you back down.
“Just let me attend to this rats nest, and we can be done.” Astarion reaches for his comb, and sits beside you. “Lean back so I can wet your hair,” He guides you down, with your head over the basin, and cups his hand to gather water before wetting your hair.
You let his work quietly, until your hair is wet and he can begin working out the knots starting at the ends. When the comb runs freely to your hair, he grabs the soap and carefully massages it into your scalp, scratching here in there. You let out a sigh in content, and Astarion can’t help but smile softly.
He was still shocked that you even talked to him-- let alone let him touch you. But the two of you needed this. To hold and be held, to love and let go. He truly was a fool to ever think he could be without you. But he was lucky, then, that you were fool enough to let him back in.
With your hair washed, combed, and dried and the water dumped and wash bin put aside, Astarion let you sit back up and look at him. “So… what happens next?” You ask softly.
“Well… I’m not sure.” He admits. “I didn’t think you would forgive me so… I hadn’t really thought much beyond that.”
“I suppose we get our rest, then.” You heave a heavy sigh. “I know I’ve taken enough time off from adventuring… And you have some friends who deserve an explanation as well.”
“More talking?” Astarion groans softly, but makes no move to leave your side as you lie down and tug him with you. “But… you are right.”
“You’ll be okay.” You give him a good, full body squeeze. “Everyone here cares for you. They’ll be willing to hear you out.”
“Perhaps only with you by my side.” He lets out a little chuckle. “But… that’s not such a bad thing.” He readjusts in your grasp, snuggling close and turning towards you. “Rest well, darling.” He kisses the top of your head, and smiles down at your sleepy expression.
“I will, now that you’re here…” It didn’t take long for sleep to find you, wound up in Astarion’s arms. You hadn’t slept so well in days, and who was he to wake you when you looked so peaceful…? It seemed like time passed so quickly with you in his arms, and before long he could hear the sounds of everyone else waking in camp.
Astarion couldn’t help but grow anxious as footsteps grew closer to the tent. “Solider, you in there?” Karlach’s voice called out. “I know you haven’t been very hungry lately, but I brought you some breakfast…” Unable to do anything to stop her, Astarion watched as Karlach pokes her head into the tent. With the morning light, they could only stare at one another a moment.
“Shh, just let them sleep a while longer…” Astarion turned from Karlach, and brushed some stray hairs from your face. “When they’re ready to wake up, I’ll… I’ll be ready to.” He turns from you, back to Karlach, a look of surprise and glee on her face.
“Right! Right… I’ll be quiet!” She gives him a little thumbs up and quickly retreats from the tent. But… Astarion can hear Karlach, even if she is all the way across camp. First, she tells Jaheira, then Minsc, and Minthara and Lae’zel overhear… Then Wyll, Shaodowheart and Halsin of course overhear and then Gale finds out, and now the whole camp is aware that he’s back here even if they are being remarkable polite about it….
Still, it brings a smile on his face. To know they were so excited to see him again (maybe even if it was only to see you happy again) was a comforting thought. To be among friends… That was something truly special indeed.
“Astarion…?” You wake slowly, eyes barely open as you look to him, hold him a little tighter.
“I’m here,” Astarion assures you, giving you a squeeze in return.
“Good…” You close your eyes and cuddle back into him, letting out a small yawn. “Let’s stay alone for just a little longer yet.”
“That can be arranged.” He can’t help but smile, and relax into you. Everyone else could wait a little longer yet-- you deserved what ever you wanted in this moment. And if that happened to be him, well, Astarion was in no place to say no.
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New Boyfriend!Bakugo (20+) x fem reader. A hint of Bkg angst because he has big feelings that he needs to process, leads to lovey fucking, words of encouragement and general Bakugo being uncharacteristically sweet.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo who is super jealous and possessive but only because he’s insecure. He doesn’t understand why you’d pick him when he has such a rough temper and struggles to show affection. You could’ve chosen Deku or Shoto who at least have the ability to express their emotions without anger, but you chose him instead.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo who gets embarrassed when he realizes how much he’s thinking about you. Wherever he is, he’s wondering what you’re doing, if you’ve eaten, if you’re happy. Those wholesome thoughts about his new girlfriend inevitably clash with his temper when he wonders if you could be talking to a man whose personality might suit you better. Despite your reassurances that you wanted to be with him, temper and all, he mulled over every insecurity that made him feel like you were only with him out of pity.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo who swallows his pride, and accepts that the best way to make you stay is by embracing his softer side. He’d show you that he had a sweet side, and he’d show it in a way only you’d get to see. When you have your first time together you expect he’ll be as rough and passionate as he is in his daily life, but he surprises you.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo who takes his time kissing you. Kisses you softly on the lips, neck, chest, and wraps his lips around your hardened nipples. A moan vibrates around them when he feels them harden more in his mouth. He kisses down your stomach and kisses your pussy; uses a finger to slide your slickness up to your clit and circles the figure around it. He sucks it between his lips, laps at it gently, and looks in your eyes when he does so.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo who tells you how good you taste. He licks you until you cum on his face, and he wipes the excess cum onto his fingers to lick it off. He kisses you so you can taste the cum his tongue fucked out of you, and he asks if you want his cock. He lubes up his dick even though you’re plenty wet because he doesn’t want to hurt you, and eases it inside you an inch at a time.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo who buries his length into you and kisses you with an open mouth. Desperate, sloppy kisses with gasping breaths in between while he thrusts softly but deeply into you. He moans into your mouth and pauses to ask “That feel good baby?” and “Do you like having my cock inside you?” only to moan loader when you tell him yes.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo whose hand reaches down to toy with your clit while he fucks you. He kisses your lips, neck, and goes back to suck on your nipples to heighten your pleasure. The thickness of his cock and the pronounced head rub inside you perfectly; he angles his hips up with each thrust to press against the most sensitive parts of your walls.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo who fucks you to your climax and says “That’s it baby, cum on my cock” in an encouraging whisper. He mumbles “Ohhfuck I can feel it baby” almost surprised that he can feel your pussy pulse around the cock that made you cum. He continues and asks “You wanna feel me cum now?” because he wants to hear you ask for his cum. When you tell him yes, his mouth reconnects with yours.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo those kisses get harder, moans get louder, and thrusts get sloppier as he nears his end while you build up to a second climax. He says “Fuck baby cum with me, please cum with me” in the sweetest voice he’s ever spoken to you with. Your legs squeeze around his waist and he pushes his hips deep into yours so your pussy grips the very base of his cock. A stutter of his hips and a ragged gasp from his mouth and you feel his cock jerk and a hot gush of cum release inside you. He chokes “Fuck..oh fuck baby you feel my cum?” and puts his ear to your mouth so he can hear every sound you make when you cum while his seed continues to spill into you.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo who relaxes into you, and goes back to giving you soft, loving kisses. His hips rock his cum into you, and he likes to feel the combination of your cum creating an even more pleasurable slip. Even though you’ve only been together for a few months, he says “God I love you. You know that?” because he can’t imagine making you wait to hear those words.
New Boyfriend!Bakugo who will by this time next year become New Husband!Bakugo.
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NSFW alphabet with Astarion from bg3?
Hell yeah, anon. Some Astarion for you
Astarion NSFW Alphabet Also it is way too long for an Alphabet but I really enjoyed this format of it
Warnings: MDNI, 4.6k Words, Smut, GN!Reader, Established relationship mentions, Switch!Astarion mentions, slight angst, early access spoilers, blood kink, voyeurism/exhibition kink throughout here, astarion is a tease, cazador is his warning
Ao3 link
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
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"We've had plenty of pillow talk now, darling. Don't you think we should rest?"
It depends on how deep your relationship is. Earlier on, he will kiss your brow or hold you for a few moments. Astarion may indulge in some banter if he truly likes you, but otherwise, you are a warm willing body to fill a need.
But once he starts to fall for you, it changes.
It will be hot and cold for a while until either of you sit down and talk about your feelings. He'll snuggle up next to you, indulging in the warmth of your body and then he'll remember himself. Quick excuses to leave, to not allow himself to bask in the sunlight-like warmth he's found constantly in your embrace. There's a deep fear - what if Cazador finds out about you?
And then you both confess and it's like you have an extra set of limbs. He's a constant at your side. Clingy would be an understatement, if he can, he always touches you. A hand on your lower back, fingers trailing over your arm and shoulder and looping one arm around your waist at times too.
He's in love and he's going to make sure you can never be taken from him.
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B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
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At first, his favorite part is your throat. It's not hard to guess why that is when he loves to sink his fangs into it.
Soon though, it becomes your eyes. Though he can never see himself in a mirror, he can see how he reflects by how you gaze at him. The way your eyes crinkle when he makes you happy or how they fill with tears when he tells you too many details of what Cazador has done to him. It's an easy way to see how you feel.
"Being reflected in someone else's eyes? Well, I could do worse."
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C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
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He loves to cum on you. Finishing on your face or belly, and seeing how pretty you look with it on. Or watching how you squirm, your cheeks so warm when he moves to lick it off.
Finishing inside is also good. Whether he is giving or receiving, he'll enjoy the small feeling of ownership it gives. That you belong to one another.
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D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
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He really enjoys it when you wear his clothes.
If you were to ask him directly about it, he'd give you a shrug accompanied by a smirk as sharp as his knife. "No, darling, I'm just thinking of how expensive it's going to be to clean them."
You would tilt your head. "We're not going out into the wilds anymore. I'm not going to-"
His fingers would slide under your chin, moving to cup your jaw. Red eyes staring directly into your own, turning black with heat. A pink tongue darts out to moisten his lips, before he's leaning in close. "That's what we call a hint, my dear."
His clothes always end up ruined, but he never complains too much.
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E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
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Astarion has been in Cazador's service for over two hundred years. How long he lived before that? Well, he won't tell you. (Mainly to tease you, but also he doesn't want to think of the age difference you two may have if you're not a long-lived elf.)
He has experience in seduction, Cazador had him do that. Fucking is easy. And with other vampire spawns, it could also be a bit of welcome relief from all torture going on around them.
With you though, he discovers lovemaking.
And he weeps the first time.
You never let him forget it, kissing under his eyes affectionately while he rolls them and he holds you at half a length away, trying to cease your teasing affections.
"I love you. We don't - You don't, have to bring up my weeping every time."
"But it made me love you more."
The vampire's grip loosens then, and his touch goes unsurprisingly tender for a few minutes after, returning your warm affections in kind.
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F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
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If he's on top, missionary. He loves the access to your neck and the way he can gaze at your face. Watching your expression at every touch or roll of his hips - to see how you enjoyed it or to smile as you whimper from his teasing.
If he's on the bottom, he likes to be standing. Having someone hold onto his arms, pulling him closer while they go deeper inside of him. It also hides his face. While he loves to see your own face, he's more closed off. Though once you're closer, he'd probably love the Wrapped Lotus position, for something truly intimate for you both.
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G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
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He's definitely goofier during foreplay or whenever he's attempting to seduce you, but during the actual act he's more serious.
"Sweetie?"
You turn your head to find him staring right at you, not three feet from you. He's also very clearly, eyeing your ass. You roll your eyes. "That's not going to work-"
"Oh?" Now he's smirking, the ruby eyes moving over your form slowly, before he meets your eyes. The vampire gives a slow blink, before giving a handsome smile and tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. "You're sure this is not going to work?"
Looking away, you try to hide your smile. "It's not going to work."
He stalks around you like a predator sizing up a meal, but soon he's crouching down beside you. "Are you sure? Are you really sure, darling?"
You open your mouth, but he's suddenly sweeping his foot under your arm, then your middle and he uses it to get you onto your back. He joins you on the ground, going into a lounging position where he can rest one fist against his cheek, smirking fully. One hand waves down his own body. and he's - he's wearing those wonderful leather pants, the cheating bastard. "Nothing enticing?"
Biting your lip, you shake your head. "None at all."
"My dear," his fingers brush over your cheek, turning you to face him. "Liars don't get to have any pleasures."
"...You lie all the time."
"I'm a vampire."
You smile, moving to tuck a loose lock of hair back into place. "Yes. A big scary, vampire."
His eyes light up, and cold hands are quick to draw you close. "Yes, a horrible thing I am." Red eyes shine, his gaze running over your face. "Should I defile you now then?"
"You would like that, wouldn't you?"
"Very much so." He's leaning in then, brushing his lips over your jaw. The touch is featherlight as he lets his fingers wander over your sides and along your waist. There's a harder glint in his gaze when he looks upon you again, moving to push you onto your back again. Though this time, he puts a knee on either side of your hips. Leaning down, he lets his mouth hover above yours and lets his lips twitch when he hears the hitch of your breath.
"Let me show you how horrible I can be, darling."
-
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
-
Elves can't grow facial or much body hair (or so I'm told), so he's pretty hairless. He does have a small patch of hair right above his cock, but it's small and rarely needs to be trimmed. It's a bit more grey than white, but so long as you don't tease him about being old, he doesn't mind it.
-
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
-
Like with aftercare, it differs when you start having sex versus when you start having feelings for one another.
At the start, it's not very intimate. It's an excuse to have fun, let off some steam, and enjoy a very nice night together. And then it becomes a couple more nights of enjoyment together.
And then it becomes weeks of enjoyment.
Then months.
And then it fully changes once you're both aware of each other's feelings.
He kisses you, a lot more than before. Cradling the back of your neck, holding you steady as presses his mouth to your own. He moans against your lips, letting you see how his brows knit as his pleasure grows. The other cold hand is resting against your back, nails scratching lightly over your skin.
In the quiet of the moment, his voice drops to a whisper. Now he won't tease you, but his voice drips with praise. "You're wonderful, you're - fuck, you're everything." His grip gets a tad tighter before he relaxes. Tonight he doesn't want to hurt you in any way, and even when you offer your throat, he refuses it.
You're so much more than blood to him, and he needs you to know that.
He needs you to know he means it when he says you're everything to him.
He needs you.
-
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
-
He doesn't.
Not unless he absolutely has to, but since you came into his life he doesn't feel the same urge. It's more fun and easier to do with you, and he does have some patience to wait until you're within sight again to tease you until you're giving in. Though if you're not in the mood, he also won't be in the mood. Very rarely does he still want it if you're not up for it. And he never pushes after you've told him no, instead he may ask for cuddling to still get that intimacy.
When he was doing that little hot and cold time when he was figuring out his feelings, he did do it. Jerking off to the thought of your hands around his dick, your voice in his ear, biting his lip to not let out any noise as he spills all over his fingers.
Now he likes to wait. It's much better whenever you're there.
-
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
-
Blood Kink.
Shocking to no one, considering he likes to bite during sex. The sight of blood is the easiest way to get him going.
It can horribly backfire (or not) when you're on a mission and see a lot of battles. One time, one of Lae'zel caught a man too close to you, slicing him down the middle. It left you splattered, blood coating one side of your face and all down your neck.
Astarion had not known he had that amount of willpower within him, that he didn't take you on the ground right after the battle. He did not care if the others heard or saw, or if even a goblin tried to approach, he had wanted to fuck you so hard his hands had started shaking. Should anyone interrupt, he would've drunk them dry just to get you alone.
He instead waited until after the battlegrounds were clear, to lure you into the forest and offer to help with the excess adrenaline and energy still in your bodies after the fight.
You would moan as he licked the blood off of your skin, while you were both so entangled with one another, and it doesn't matter that it ends quickly, only that it ended together. And with you having less blood on your person than when it started.
-
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
-
Beds, when you can get to them. Once you return to the city, Astarion does his best to make sure you only have sex in the nice comfort of a bed.
However, the alleyways are rather tempting. Dark and all alone. Anyone could walk down and see -
He'd shake his head, no, no. He couldn't do that. But then his eyes slide over the innkeeper's dining tables, or the bar countertop and the -
Astarion would fuck you anywhere. He may prefer a bed, but he would enjoy it anywhere.
"You know, sweetie, I think we look very good together." His arms would be looped around your waist, his chest pressing to your back. "But I think we'd look better together over on that table."
You squint, glancing around the inn. "The one with all the goblins talking about their last bathing sessions?"
"You really know how to kill a mood, my love."
-
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
-
When it's you, it could be anything.
The man goes from 0 to 60 in 1 second. It could be your smile, a light touch, or your laugh.
There are so many things that you do that turn him on, but generally, he hears your happiness and he gets the urge to want to make you even happier. To have you smile while he kisses down your body, and lets you feel his smile, before the flick of his tongue.
-
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
-
Anything that would involve leaving a permanent mark on your person. His bites are bad enough, but if you got a tattoo to dedicate to him, he'd be more upset than pleased. If you were to ask the reason, he'd gesture to the scars on his back. Not just self-inflected marks would upset him, but any new scar you get in helping him in this journey is a reminder that you are paying a price for helping him. A reminder of his failures to protect you.
A reminder that you are breakable.
And Cazador loves to break things.
Even after his former master's death, he still doesn't like it. His own trauma mixes in here, and if you want to display devotion like that, he doesn't mind getting a set of matching rings instead.
-
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
-
"Look at you. Have you been this eager for me all night?" His fingers curl around your thighs, digging into them as he brings his face closer to you. His tongue you'll feel first, teasingly slow before he moves
Loves giving head. Loves receiving head. Silver tongue is dangerously good and he's very well aware of it.
He prefers to give, but he's also fine with fucking your mouth. One hand on the top of your head, making sure your eyes are on him while he lets praise fly out of his mouth.
"So eager for it. Look at all that drool, it's shining all over your chin." It's a hiss between his teeth. His free hand moves to your shoulder, dragging you closer. When you gag, he only laughs sharply, before pulling you back. "Too much?"
You shake your head, and he smiles, sliding deeper. Letting his cock rub over your tongue, while you tremble in trying to swallow him down.
"That's it, darling. Fuck! You're doing so well. Do you want me to fill your throat?" His thrusts get a bit quicker, and you're gripping his thighs as he starts to fuck your face. "So good for me. So perfect."
The next time you gag, he barely pauses. Focused on the feel of your mouth around him, his hands are nearly clawing at your head and shoulder. He's panting, gazing down at you. You aren't sure if vampires could sweat but there's a shine to his skin, that could just be from the moonlight reflecting off of it.
Astarion slows down, drawing himself back to rest the tip in your mouth. "I don't want to rush this, darling." With a sly look, he's nudging his foot between your legs, to graze his calf against your crotch. "Not when you're clearly enjoying this so much."
It would be a longer night than the previous, but he was always determined to draw out both of your pleasures.
-
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
-
It depends. On how much time he has with you, how deep your relationship is, what you're both in the mood for.
Even when you've been together for some time, he still will like to get together roughly from time to time.
Fingers are in his mouth, fangs pressing in on either side of them while his lips curl and he bites on them to try and silence himself. His eyes are on your form, above him, following your movement. The other hand is clawing into your hip.
It's rare he tries to quiet himself, and you're smirking just a little.
He catches it, and his hand tightens on your hip. There'll be a bruise there for later, as you watch him slip the fingers he was biting on from his mouth. "D-Don't assume, darling. You don't- " He cuts himself off with a moan, head rolling back just as you move your hips harder, possibly bruising them with how fast you press against him.
There's a promise of vengeance later in the look he gives you after, but you know it'll be worth it.
Even if it's him making you cry out in the middle of a busy alleyway. Still worth it.
-
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Traveling in the woods, with many people, means he's gotten used to having quickies. And often.
He'll direct you to fuck against a tree, or some boulder. Or to come with him on a late-night hunt, but it's so he can get you alone and he can get into your pants.
It doesn't get better when you're in Baldur's Gate, because he realizes how much he just wants you all the time. Quickies become a regular thing between you both, but when he does have you alone and the time, he's going to make sure every second counts.
"Quiet, Darling." He whispers against your ear, nipping it as your arms loop around his middle. Bodies pressed tightly together. His hands move onto your back, pressing you even closer to him. "You'll wake more dead than just me if you're not careful."
-
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
-
He's up to try most things. At least once, to see if either of you like it. Astarion isn't going to risk anything that will end your life, but he's also willing to do a lot of risky shit that might just end your social standing instead.
Being a vampire, he knows how rare it would be to create any pregnancy if you have the parts for that. So he's not very worried about that.
He loves the risk and the adrenaline you get when you do fuck somewhere risky though. Hearing your heartbeat speed up, the blood pumping through your veins - it's all very exciting.
It's probably why he keeps suggesting it. Or it's because he truly can't get enough of you.
-
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
-
If you wanted, he would be happy with sex at least twice every day for the rest of your days.
This may be due to how easily he's motivated, but he really enjoys that closeness with you once you're both together. It's intimate and enjoyable; he loves it and you. Spending that time together is something important to him, particularly if you may not live very long.
He needs to cherish as much time as he can with you. Or else he may turn you.
-
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
-
Bondage toys. He enjoys tying you up from the start, but once you get closer, he'll let you also tie him up. But there's something about one of you being vulnerable to the other that just makes his eyes light up.
"How is that? Too tight?"
You shake your head, flexing your fingers to show him you could still move them. He smiles, leaning forward to kiss each one, before pressing another kiss to your forearm, and then the top of your head. Making his way down to kiss your lips, easing you to relax into his touch.
When Astarion pulls back, his eyes are nearly glowing in the soft candlelight as he makes his way down your body. Spreading your thighs, and running a finger teasingly over you. He smirks when you shiver, leaning forward to nip on your inner thigh. "Don't hold back for me, sweetie. I want to hear every noise I draw from those pretty lips tonight."
-
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
-
It starts off with a hand on your shoulder. Friendly, a gentle squeeze. And then long fingers sweep over it, edging down towards your back. Trailing over your top, until he can let his fingers edge to the back of your shirt collar. Fingers move to rub at the skin, in slow circles before he draws away completely, his eyes glinting like rubies in the sunlight.
Another time, he's got a glass of wine. He smiles over the rim of the crystal glass, and after he drinks, he lets the red droplets linger over his mouth. Only swiping them away with his tongue when you look back over at him.
"Are you being good, darling?" He'll whisper in your ear, laughing when you flinch at his sudden closeness. But one hand will come out to steady you, spreading his fingers along your lower back. Letting you feel his hand and the way his fingertips dig in slightly. His mouth gets dangerously close to your ear again, and he smiles when he whispers this time. "I'll take that as a no."
He's unfortunately, the king of teasing.
-
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
-
Astarion loves the sound of his own voice. Though he can think of one better, and it's any sound he draws from you in fits of pleasure.
Once he finds out you like hearing him talk during sex, he lets it all out. Filthy whispers right at the campsite, smirking when he sees you cross your legs in an attempt to keep your arousal down. Or at least to make sure no one noticed how you were trying to rub your legs together.
He's cruel with his tongue, and he loves to use it on you.
-
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
-
Having been not able to see the sun for nigh two hundred years, Astarion tries to enjoy it as much as he can. He's pretty sure one day he might not be able to anymore, even though he is trying very hard to ensure he'll retain some power.
So he does anything he can in the sun. Including some stretches. Essentially yoga.
He'll wear some loose shirts, and some sinfully tight trousers once he catches on that you're watching them though.
"Did you know my eyes are down here, darling?"
On warm, sunny days, he may not be able to go into moving water but he will sit on a rock, and admire himself in the shimmering river. He finds himself drawn to water, perhaps because it's one of the few things of a danger to him still and he wishes to conquer it, or he likes his reflection far too much.
Either way, one day he shows up with a fishing rod and he discovers he likes fishing. Either catching them to salt and carry around for easy meals for the rest of the party or attempting to cook you something.
That would probably be the only time he's allowed to attempt to cook anything.
-
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
-
He's well-built and scarred. Astarion isn't jacked, but he's a rogue with a little muscle. This might be due to some vampirism, rather than any training. He was on a diet of bugs and small rodents for a long time, so it's probably something to do with his supernatural abilities rather than any attempts.
His dick is around 6 inches, not little at all. Enough to fill you, over and over again if you want him to. He's not massive, but he's glad not to be and if you're bottoming, you'll be glad for it, with how many times he wants to use it on you in a row.
-
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
-
While he'd be happy with sex twice a day for the rest of your days, he's also very content just being with you. Lounging with you at his side is one of his favorite ways to spend a lazy day.
But he's almost always up for it if you are. Your enjoyment and happiness are a turn-on for him, so seeing you eager for him on top of it? It's like an ego boost, inflating it further.
Yearning for you is part of the fun though.
Watching you from across the hall, his hall now - since Cazador had died, he had taken over the property. And being a new, full vampire had come with a lot of new perks.
His new form of mist made it easier for him to sneak towards you, until he appears with fingers sliding against yours, grasping your hand. Before you can say anything, he kisses the back of it, then a few more over your knuckles.
You smile, your surprise melted into the familiar love he's now getting used to. "Did you miss me that much? it's only been a few minutes."
He smiles, leaning forward to press his face to yours. Your noses rub against one another as he attempts to nuzzle you, while you're laughing and drawing away. "Every second without you, my dear, is horrible."
But sometimes the yearning is too much.
Sometimes he thinks about turning you.
But he knows the power he'd have over a spawn, and as much as he knows you trust him to fully turn you into a vampire, part of him doubts himself. As a spawn, you'd never leave him. You wouldn't have the choice to leave him. He'd take care of you, protect you - but it wouldn't be you if you had no control. Even if he allowed you free will, if he had that much control, he fears what kind of monster he'd become.
He's too scared to do it. Too many hang-ups, and worries. He's frightened one day you'll realize how terrible he truly is. And he's more frightened of what he may do if you try and leave then.
It hurts to think about it.
Eternity with you sounds great; amazing. Perfect.
But he's not certain about an eternity with him would be perfect.
What if he was worse than Cazador? What if he never found the courage to turn you fully? What if he kept you trapped?
What if you died a mortal death? If you got sick? If you got too old?
Until he can come to a decision, he lets your embrace wash away those thoughts. And listens to the beat of your heart; a reminder that you're still with him.
For now.
-
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
-
Elves don't sleep in Faerun. When they meditate to get the same benefits as sleep, they can dream still.
He often does it while you're asleep as well, though he likes to stay up for a while after you've fallen asleep. Watching you dream, the way your eyelids flutter. He'll brush any hair that falls into your face, or adjust your clothing to make sure you're covered. If you shiver, he'll tuck the blanket around you, knowing he can do little to keep you warm.
But always, each night, he leans down and kisses your brow.
"Goodnight, my love. I'll see you in my dreams."
-
Thank you to @sherwood-forests for giving this a look over and wonderful comments like this
also thank you to @chickenparm for the hot yoga idea, and @vasiktomis for fishing astarion <3
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At a point in time
It's a lazy, stormy night in Baldur's Gate. Astarion and you are just lying in bed cozily. Rain whips and taps against the windows. And wind howls around your cozy little home. Some lit candles throw softly shuddering gold-orange light and some shadows in your room.
Astarion is laying between your legs - his upper body is wrapped around yours, your legs are hooked around his hips and back comfortably. His head is on your chest. His eyes are closed -softly though. He's barely moving at all. You've even stopped talking a long while ago.
You lazily brush through his soft curls with one hand, tugging softly on single strands. Trying to detangle some knots. Carefully letting your fingertips press onto and caress the nape of his neck - right there where you can feel the tension in his spine.
Your other hand is holding his, idly playing with your joint fingers. Tugging on the end of his little finger. Letting your fingers scratch over the palm. Then locking fingers with his and squeezing affectionately.
Astarion feels your warmth. How it blissfully seeps into his own body. With one pointy ear pressed to your chest he can hear and feel your calm, slow heartbeat. The rhythm is steady and sure. He's breathing deeply - a habit he can't seem to shake. And he's come to enjoy the slow rise and fall and how it softly sways his body against yours.
And as he lays there with you, he can feel himself relax - even if just a little. The years of perpetual fight or flight being finally over. Finally, the hope of being able to let his guard down. Removing all the layers of defence that were needed for survival. And the opportunity to hopefully find himself again after the thick walls are torn down.
Some tension is finally dissolving after centuries of being as taut as a bow string. Ready to be set off at every given moment. Ready to cut, to hurt. But the strings loosen now, the arrow's being lowered. At least for this moment in time.
Astarion's shoulders drop, his jaw relaxes. He melts into the skin-on-skin contact, feels how it makes all his spikes he's put up to not let anyone get close, evaporate. He lies in your arms - that demand nothing of him - only provide him with comfort and much needed solace.
And he could just stay right in that moment forever until all of him had blissfully perished in this comfort. Your arms and body wrapped around him being his small piece of heaven.
The safe haven he's yearned an eternity for.
And the anchor, steady in place, he knows he can always come back to if needed should waves lead him astray.
Author's note: Wrote a drabble without that even being the intention, I only wanted to set a scene... Then my head wanted to be pretentious and flesh it out more... I actually wanted to work on longer stuff and I only did this while waiting for a parcel...
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🤍 Where I'm supposed to be 🤍
Summary: Tav (aka the reader) is taking care of Astarion after defeating Cazador.
Word count: 1.5k
Pairing: Astarion x Tav/Reader
Tags: Hurt / comfort; I think this is called reverse comfort? (When the reader comforts the character); lots of mentions of blood; Not 100% canon compliant but it's just minor details/ me not wanting to simply retell what happens in the game
A heavy silence falls over the crypt as Astarion sinks to his knees. You almost preferred it when he was still screaming. The current silence feels like a dark presence stretching over you, making it difficult to breathe.
You can sense that your other companions are just as uneasy as you are. Karlach uneasily fumbles with the handle of her weapon and Gale is biting his lip while staring at the gory scene in front of you with Astarion as its main actor.
They're clearly struggling to decide what to do now. So are you.
Your first instinct is to hug Astarion, to fuss over him and make sure he isn't injured, but you're not sure he wants to be touched right now. However, just standing there watching him doesn't feel right either.
"Astarion?" You finally ask, taking a small step towards him, carefully stretching out your hand like you're talking to a wild animal. He doesn't react. His eyes are fixated on the dead body of his former master in front of him, almost like he's waiting for Cazador to jump up and start mocking him again. Like the moment he looks away, Cazador will return back to life and continue to attack.
You follow his stare, seeing the multiple stab wounds and the puddle of blood he's lying in. No, that bastard is dead.
You kneel down next to Astarion, placing a hand on his shoulder. If he noticed you at all, he isn't showing it. You look at him, trying to make out any immediate signs of injuries. He doesn't appear to be hurt, but you do notice the slight tremble of his bottom lip and the way his eyes swell up with tears. You gently pull him towards you, wrapping your arms around him. Astarion doesn't resist, letting his head sink into your chest.
He's completely still for a few moments, then the previous silence is broken by a series of loud sobs. Astarion's hands grasp the back of your shirt, fists balling together like he's scared you'll disappear. He trembles in your arms and you pull him even closer. You run a hand through Astarion's hair in an attempt to soothe him, even if just a little bit. It's sticky with blood, but you hardly notice that.
"It's okay, love. He won't hurt you anymore," you whisper in his ear, your other hand gently stroking his back. He only sobs louder in response, but it seems to help him breathe a little more evenly.
You're interrupted by the other spawn approaching. They still appear in just as much shock as Astarion, eyeing the corpse of their former master like they, too, can't believe he's really gone yet.
"Well… What now?" One of them eventually asks, all of them turning to Astarion like they expect guidance from him now.
You look over to your companions, hoping one of them might step in to redirect the spawn. But before any of them can say something, Astarion loosens his grip of you, getting up with his back straightened.
He's still sniffling a little, but already looks far more composed than before. Or, at least he tries to look composed.
Perhaps he even manages to convince everyone else that he's really okay. However, you can't help but notice the slight tremble in his legs as he walks over to pick up Cazador's staff, and the way he's fighting to keep his voice steady while talking to the others.
You've spent enough time around him, observing his mannerisms, to know when he's putting on a show. As much as he tries to appear alright, in truth he's far from being okay.
As Astarion's siblings leave, his eyes trail after them, staring off into the distance even after they're long gone. You put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to break him out of his trance. "Astarion, are you alr-" He cuts you off.
“Let’s just go home. I've had enough of this place," he says without turning around, just loud enough for you to hear.
You only nod in response and Astarion starts walking, the rest of your party following close behind.
Nobody says a word on your way back to Elfsong Tavern. Yet, you grow increasingly worried for Astarion. He looks like he's barely holding himself together, while pushing his emotions as far down as possible. You can only hope he'll open up to you later, rather than trying to pretend the events of tonight never happened.
The moment you reach Elfsong Tavern, Astarion drags himself upstairs to the floor you rented, straight to his bed where he sits down, staring at the wall. You contemplate whether it would be best to leave him alone with his thoughts for the time being, or whether you should try talking to him.
Eventually you decide to just sit down next to him, quietly reaching for his hand. "Just so you know," you start, "you don't have to talk right now if you don't want to. But I'm here for you."
Astarion nods in response, ever so slightly squeezing your hand.
You don't know how much time passes like this, but Astarion eventually breaks the silence, almost startling you with how suddenly he starts speaking.
“Do you think I made the right decision back there?” His voice doesn't have its usual smoothness to it as he speaks. Instead, it sounds sore and raspy. He just sounds tired.
“Yes.” You say it wholeheartedly, not even having to think before you respond. Astarion made the right decision - Of that you’re sure. “You’ve proven you’re better than Cazador. You didn't cause others to suffer for your own benefit. You made sure he'll never hurt anyone again. I’m absolutely certain you made the right decision.”
Astarion hums, nodding slowly as if he's contemplating your words. “At least one of us is sure, then. I really hope you’re correct.” He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "I'm not so certain I did the right thing. But maybe I should trust your judgment while I can't think straight."
You squeeze his hand tightly, and he gives a weak squeeze back. “Give it a while for everything to settle down,” you suggest, gently. “Once you’ve had some time to work through all this, I’m sure you’ll see things have worked out for the better.” He just grunts in response, letting his head sink against your shoulder. You sit like that in silence for a while, and you can tell he’s on the brink of falling asleep.
“Hey, how about we get all this blood off you and go to sleep?” You suggest, running a hand through his hair. Astarion just nods, allowing you to pull him along and lead him towards the small bathtub in the bathroom.
You run some warm water and grab a sponge while Astarion sits in the tub. Under normal circumstances he probably wouldn't let you take care of him like this, but tonight he doesn’t protest as you run the sponge over his skin, making sure to wash off the blood still sticking to his skin. He even closes his eyes for a while, completely giving himself into the care of your gentle touch as you run the water over his head in an attempt to get the blood splatters out of his hair.
Once you're sure you've gotten rid of all the blood, you bring Astarion a towel, wrapping it around him.
He sits there and watches as you grab a second towel, using it to dry his hair.
As you're about to put the towel away, you suddenly find Astarion's arms finding their way around your waist, pulling you close enough for him to rest his head against your torso.
You freeze in place, only moving enough to drop the towel and run your hand through Astarion's still damp hair. Just by his expression you can tell he needs to be close to you right now, and you have no intention of denying him that comfort.
After a while of being together like this in silence, you gently nudge Astarion. "Let's get you to bed, alright? It'll be much more comfortable there."
Astarion seems reluctant to let go of you, finally agrees to it after you promise not to leave his side for the night (not that you would've done so either way).
As he climbs into bed, you lie down next to him, pulling him into your arms. Astarion seems happy to rest his head on your chest. He seems almost peaceful like this, listening to your heartbeat while you run a hand across his back with gentle strokes.
"Thank you. For taking care of me… And for stopping me from probably making a big mistake. It's good to have someone looking out for me for once," Astarion mumbles, sounding like he's on the edge of falling asleep.
You run a hand through his still damp hair. "Don't mention it. You would've done the same for me." You press a kiss to his forehead, catching a glimpse of the slightest smile curling Astarion's lips. "And I hope you know you can always rely on me."
Astarion nods, hugging you a little tighter. "Yes. And I'm grateful for that, too."
Soon after, the only thing you hear is Astarion's soft breaths as he drifts off to sleep. You can only hope the next day will be a little brighter for him. But if not, he still has you to rely on.
Thank you for reading 🤍
Title was inspired by this
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Romantic little headcanons for Astarion and Tav
As I said - I feel like I need this rn because I lost some faith in humanity today (I'm fine now though, dw). And I've been deep in my feelings lately about these two silly little geese (as if I there was a time where I wasn't...), so have some cutesy little headcanons:
Astarion always likes to make sure you're safe and that often manifests with him keeping a hand on your back in support or on your shoulder, maybe his arm around your waist
Also him like softly pushing you with his hand on your back so you're not the one walking in the middle of the busy street; you don't even notice he's doing that he's so gentle about it
You both can't stop staring at each other: stealing glances when the other isn't looking
When you're getting caught you mostly blush as Astarion makes a silly little comment about how obvious you are (affectionately)
When you catch him, he just keeps looking, smile growing bigger until he leans in for a kiss
Astarion looooves to show you off! Not in a trophy kind of way (maybe a little) but like "Look at my wonderful darling love. How beautiful and smart and witty and - dare I say - deadly?", he said and sighed dreamily.
You love holding his hand; he doesn't get it at first but it also becomes a form of reassurance between the two of you: when you don't feel comfortable or you feel like the other needs to feel support you grab each other's hand and squeeze it
But Tav also loves grabbing one of Astarion's hands like when they're sitting around talking, looking at his beautiful long fingers, massaging it gently and then entwining your fingers with his
Also Astarion lifting your joint fingers whenever you hold hands to press a kiss to them
Also Astarion letting his hands wander over your spine, just his hands sliding up and down your back or tip-tapping two fingers along it - doesn't matter if you're clothed or naked, he can never get enough of you
Astarion is also touching your face as often as possible: cupping your cheeks with his hands, holding your chin with his thumb on it; pinching your nose and shaking it softly when you're being a little sassy
Also annoying each other with big wet smooches: "Tav - NO, get your slobbery lips AWAY FROM ME! If I wanted to experience this I would let Scratch lick my face!" But he was already firmly in your grasp and you placed a wet and very loud smacking kiss on his lips. He stuck his tongue out and scrunched up his nose afterwards as you giggled. But you weren't the last to laugh when the vampire grabbed your face and started placing smooches all over your face in payback.
My soul feels better again now. Thanks for coming to my TED talk on how silly and diabetes-inducing cute these two would be.
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Astarion Romance Headcanons 🥀
SFW:
Side glances when you're besides him
Full on staring when you're not
Immediately looking away when you catch him
"You know the way he looks at you, don't you, soldier?"
His pinky itching towards yours when you're walking, wanting to hold your hand but unsure because, is it too much? Will you reject him?
His hands scrunching up your shirt tightly whenever you hug. He's always the last to let go.
You hold on longer and longer each time because he doesn't want to let go.
His kisses are tender and needy.
He likes the warmth of your hands.
Thinking of what tones will suit your perfume the best. He'll gift it to you after all this is over.
He'll sew the holes or tears in your clothes over the night and pretend he doesn't know what happened next morning.
When you move to kiss his cheek he will grimace in annoyance but lean in as you do it.
"Be careful around Astarion, (Tav). He's not serious about you.", the others will warn you. And Astarion will worry you'll heed their words more than his so he'll do so much to prove his love to you, not knowing that you already trust him (even if that is an objectively stupid thing to do lmao).
He started sleeping next to you from the moment you had sex but ever since you've entered the shadowlands, he ends up cuddling in the middle of the night. He misses the sun.
He likes kissing the palm of your hand or its back.
Likes to pack your bag before you leave camp.
"No one's ever going to love me like that again."
Ever since you told him that there's more to him than just beauty and sex, that he's hilarious, for instance, he finds ways to make you laugh. He loves it. He's started being a lot more sarcastic and makes more jokes just to hear your laughter. He'll never admit it, of course. Other than maybe when it's only you two.
Doesn't believe he will be able to love again if you let go of him.
"Don't be so nice to me." he says with round, needy and pleading eyes.
Thinking of ways he can show others you're together so others know you're not available.
Hiding his jealousy, terribly.
He will rip the throat out of anyone with malicious intent towards you.
"I will wait the whole of my life for you, Astarion." He doesn't believe it at first, but the longer you go on without sex the safer he feels and the more he wants you.
NSFW:
He sometimes cries silently at night, wishing he could make love to you without it feeling so tainted. He wants it so badly, but his past experience prohibits it. The pain of wanting something and being unable to have it only because of himself is too much. He blames himself too sometimes. Wishing he could give you more.
"I don't mind waiting.", you'd say.
"I do. I can't have you, no matter how much I want you.", he'd say.
When you cuddle him sensing he's upset, he will bury his face in your neck to hide his tears. The smell of you is comforting.
Needing you everytime you're tender with him.
Getting aroused when you hug during a kiss.
Wanting to kiss your skin all over, to make you cry from pleasure as you bury your face in his neck.
Wanting you to hold on to him for dear life as you climax.
When he's finally comfortable enough and takes charge of his own sexuality, he'll be so needy.
Realising that the two nights he had sex with you were nothing compared to how good making love to you feels.
When you give up all control to him, letting him do to you as he wants, the pleasure is almost too much bear. The power he feels is palpable and knowing it is you who trusts him so much will drive him near mad.
He will lose control many times so you have a safe word.
You both think of the stupidest word possible as a safe word. Something that makes you both laugh when it's used.
He likes over stimulating you, making you beg and he'll kiss you to calm you.
"It's okay, you can do it, darling.", he'll say stroking you even further and kissing your tears.
"Does that feel good, my love?"
The more you beg the more he loves it.
He likes playing with your hands, holding them in his, touching your fingers, comparing them to his while you rest on his chest, still warm from him being inside of you.
Resting his head against your chest to hear your heartbeat.
Staring at your face and body intently. Taking in every little reaction you make and replaying them over in his head throughout the day.
Staring at you longingly when you're both with the squad, failing terribly at focusing in battle or conversation.
Getting aroused when you're covered in blood.
Seeing you fighting, in general, turns him on. The smell of your sweat, your rapid heart beat, the way your body moves, all of it now only reminds him of making love to you.
Telling you to say his name whenever he's feeling good and you'll chant it as you cum. He loves how it sounds from your lips.
Resting his forehead against yours as he's close to cumming.
"Look at me.", he'll command you.
He likes when your hands rake his hair, pull his hair, tug it whatever. That slight bit of pain arouses him. Better yet, if you bury your nails into his skin.
He likes to look at you falling asleep. It's such a gentle thing. How can someone so strong otherwise be so soft around him? Why him? Why did someone like you choose someone like him? He can't believe he has you.
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Sunrise
Astarion x female reader/Tav
Rating: Explicit
You must be 18 years or older to interact with this post in any way
Word Count: 5.7k
Tags: smut, slight end game spoilers, Astarion good ending spoilers, mentions of past abuse/abuser, sex, piv sex, oral sex, cuteness, fangs, biting, over-stimulation, bleeding, blood, blood drinking
Summary: Astarion and the reader share an intimate morning together as they contemplate their past, present, and future together.
Read on AO3
It's the early hours of dawn, just before sunrise. The sky was deep purple just an hour ago, but now it’s transforming into shades of indigo and blue. A faint glow threatens to spill over the city walls, to wash away the final vestiges of night. It's been a while since you've greeted the sun like this, not that you never see her at all anymore. After all, if something needs done during the daylight, you take care of it without issue. But that's all business. Just fleeting glances as you move through the crowded streets of Baldur's Gate. This right now, during the quiet hours of dawn, this is pleasure. This is you waking, nude, on the forest floor after your first night with Astarion. This is the sun’s rays warming your bodies before the two of you sneak back into camp. This is Astarion’s eyes glinting in the light, like that shared goblet of Arabella Dry at the Tiefling party.
Your heart yearns for the sun like you yearn for the past. You see your small smile reflected in the window as you continue to watch the sky change. A dozen-dozen heartbeats pass, and then the soft golden honey of the morning sun caresses the rooftops of the city, before spilling down onto the streets below. The heartache in your chest fades to nothing as the sun fully crests the horizon to kiss your face, a mere phantom in comparison to what you have now. The moment is over for you. You’ve had your fill and you begin to feel the fingers of sleep coaxing you to rest.
“Do you miss it, darling?" Astarion calls out to you from your bed, well out of view from the sun. "The daylight that is.”
Untying your silk robe, you let the soft fabric slip from your shoulders to pool at your feet. Both the sun and your lover lovingly gaze at your sun dappled curves. "It's strange," you muse, holding your hand up as if to catch the morning light. "I have so many memories of you in the sun, but no. You're the only thing I ever miss." You take a few moments, eyes squinting through the brightness to watch the people begin to fill the streets before pulling the heavy curtain firmly close. “And besides–” You turn to your love. He’s artfully draped himself, nude, across the plush pillows that adorn your bed. A deliberate attempt at making himself look all the more enticing. “How could the sun ever hope to compete with my dear Astarion’s beauty?”
He beams at your compliment, practically preening at the attention. Reaching out, he proffers his hand for you to take. It fits neatly in his as you let him pull you, gently leading you back to bed, back to him. It's a gallant gesture as your eyes readjust to the darkness of the room. A yawn begins to creep its way up and you only just manage to stifle it as Astarion draws your back to his chest. His pale, strong arms wrap around you as he presses you close, holding you tight. There weren't any cuddles the first night, or in the weeks that followed as you let him feed on you, but back then there wasn't anything real between you at all. Just lies and illusions and unending uncertainty. But somehow, by some miraculous blessing, you were able to earn his trust, just as he earned yours.
“Now you know that’s not what I meant, darling.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Though, please continue to remind me of how beautiful I am. Your words almost make up for how useless mirrors are to me.” You hear the smirk in his tone alongside the underlying truth. Uncertainty. As much as Astarion tries to hide his past pain, to pretend he’s fine and not hurting, you know the scars will never truly leave. Even after death, Cazador still manages to find a way to torture Astarion, and it drives you fucking insane with rage. It takes you a moment to collect your feelings. There’s no room for this in the bedchamber, or in your heart. Anger and sorrow will do nothing but more harm and that’s the last thing you wish to bestow upon Astarion. All he wants–all he needs is an answer to the question he left unasked. It's not difficult for you to understand. He wants to make sure you don’t regret your decision to stay with him–worried that he’s not enough. He’s worried if this is what you truly want. That he’s not trapped you, or worse, that you’re staying with him out of some fucked up feeling of guilt or pity. He won’t admit that he’s terrified of hearing your answer even if he knows in his heart what it’ll be. That’s why he doesn’t ask what he really wants to know. That’s why he wears his mask of smiles as he plays with your hair between his dexterous fingers. He’s content to pretend, but there’s no way you can leave him like this. Just floundering inside his heart while he holds you in his arms. For the briefest moment you’re almost tempted to fall asleep like this. Wrapped in Astarion’s embrace, snuggled peacefully in your bed together, but you know that after all this time, a part of Astarion still seeks your assurance.
“I miss it, the sun, the people, our friends–” Astarion freezes, as still as a statue, and suddenly the room feels cold. His muscles jerk in a way that alludes to him not knowing whether or not to pull away or hold you tighter. Reluctant to let you slip away from him, he’s afraid that this will be the last time he has to hold you. Silly elf. “But it’s not in the way you think, my love. It’s purely nostalgia. I was just reminiscing about our early days. When we first met, when we first had sex, traveling together, and unsure which day was going to be our last." Your mind drifts, gravitating to fonder memories. “The first time we made love. Your grave. I–,” The threat of tears begins to rise in your throat so you cut yourself off. Again, there is no sadness in you. Just the overwhelming feeling of love for Astarion. Of feeling like you’ve found the place you both belong.
"I wouldn’t stop you, darling. I won’t keep you here, all for myself, if that is something you no longer wished for. If you ever–do decide you've had enough of me. Or even if you could no longer stand to spend your waking hours in the cold night. I would understand."
"Astarion!" The incredulity in your tone is a good mockery of Astarion’s own frequent ostentatiousness. He’s gone too far. This line of teasing isn’t any fun and, truthfully, it hurts to imagine leaving after striving so hard to live your life together. After ensuring your love is real, and strong, and brighter than any sunrise you could imagine. You move to chastise him quickly, turning in his arms as best you can to face him. Pressing your palms to his chest, you glower, face set into an angry scowl before you realize. His red eyes are overflowing with sorrow and self-loathing. And all at once, your anger melts into nothing. “My love,” you whisper as you press chaste kisses to the shadows under his eyes, and even though you’re the one being held, you wrap your arms around Astarion’s neck to bring him close. Your bodies move instinctually, the embrace being frequent and familiar as Astarion rests his lips against your neck. You card your fingers through his silky curls. There’s no intention of feeding at the moment, though. It’s just the two of you basking in your gentle love, relaxing into the moment.
“Do you remember, before making it back to Baldur’s Gate together, that godforsaken shadow cursed land we had to traverse?”
“Shit, don’t remind me.” Astarion scoffs, pulling back to look at you. His eyes roll in mirth, fangs flashing from behind his lips. “I know our dear Shadowheart was right at home with all the doom and gloom, and while I too am a fan of darkness and the macabre–I prefer to be the only creature lurking in the night, hunting for their next meal. That entire place was far too crowded for my tastes.”
“Not to mention Raphael, or the horrors of the Cult of the Absolute,” you trivialize in jest.
Astarion leans in close. His soft lips brush over the sensitive skin of your neck as he speaks. “Or that vile drow who sought to use me because of what I am.” The venom in his voice is dampened by the reverence in the kiss he places on your neck. “There is only one person I feed on and I have her right–here.”His hand is in your hair, his breath is hot on your neck, and your heart is suddenly choking you, pounding in your throat. His fangs barely scrape your skin and you know that you only have to say the word–.
“Yes,” you breathe. There’s never any pain. Just a light pressure as Astarion’s fangs sink softly into your flesh, and then a swooping sensation as your blood is being pulled to his lips. The familiar feeling of lightheadedness begins to return. It’s nothing light that first night. No, this is controlled, worshipful even as he savors your blood on his lips and tongue. You don’t need to tell him to stop before your fingers go numb and your heart flutters in protest. He’ll stop long before there’s any danger, no matter how much he may tease otherwise. It’s easy to relax and go limp, trusting Astarion fully as he cradles your body reverently.
Far too soon Astarion stops feeding from you. “Delicious,” his moan makes you shiver. Blood begins to slowly trail from your twin puncture wounds, painting your neck crimson. Astarion isn’t one to waste a precious gift that you offer so freely to him, however. He makes quick work of the mess. Devouring it all until it’s just his tongue on your skin, traveling the length of your neck, chasing the way your body shivers. Overwhelmed from the unique mixture of pleasure and pain that makes your head spin and your body hot. Gods, you love this man. He’s so, he’s just so, so–
“W–wait. Astarion, wait,” you weakly plead for his attention, grabbing at his shoulder. You feel him smile before scraping his teeth on your skin, refusing to stop. The devious vampire did this on purpose and he knows he’s been caught red-handed, or well, rather red-lipped as he continues to playfully bite at you. Astarion just hums into the curve of your neck, refusing to acknowledge that he’s been found out. “Hey!” You laugh defeatedly as Astarion kisses the shell of your ear. “Stop trying to distract me!”
Astarion’s lips find your jaw before traveling over your cheekbones. You close your eyes and he places kisses there as well before finding your mouth. Trying his very best to lure you into parting your lips for him. “I rather think you’re the distracting one, my dear.”
“I’m trying to tell you something and I want you to listen, please.” Glaring, you hold his red gaze in yours and his perfect, bloodstained lips fall into a pout that’s just a little too perfect. Another ploy. Your head is still slightly spinning, but through sheer force of will you begin to collect your thoughts. The need to kiss away his frown, however sly it might be, is strong, but he needs to hear what you have to tell him. “As sad and as miserable as that entire place was–if for some reason that’s where you were, where Astarion decided to be, I would also–”
“You mustn't worry about that, darling. I wouldn’t be caught dead, or rather, undead in a place like that ever again.”
“Hush,” You try to quiet him by pressing your fingers to his lips. A poor decision in hindsight as Astarion instantly kisses them. Running his tongue along your fingertips, trying his hardest to distract you once more. “Stop! Listen–just wait a second. I’m trying to be sweet to you.”
“Oh, I know exactly just how sweet you are.” Astarion’s voice drops as he slips into seducing you. “So much so that I rather think I’d like another bite.”
“Yes, yes. I know. Your “little treat”.” Reclaiming your fingers from Astarion’s greedy mouth, you cup his too handsome face. Willing him to listen to you. “The only thing I wish for in life, in death, in whatever time I’m given, is to be with you. Wherever and however I can. I love you and never once have I regretted my love or wished it away.” You’ll tell him of your love every second of every day if that’s what it takes. If that’s what makes him smile like this, dazzling and warmer than anything the sun has ever graced you with. You stretch your head up and kiss him. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. You kiss him until the need for air demands your attention and you break free to refill your lungs.
Astarion rests his forehead to yours, curly locks obscuring his hungry gaze underneath, as he catches his breath. Your chests heave in unison, breathing life into the fiery tension blazing between your bodies. One moment you’re both still, wrapped in each other's embrace, and the next the room spins as Astarion wraps a leg around your hip, rolling you until you lay on your back. He’s straddled your hip, pinning you underneath. His eyes are hungry as he looms over you, his disheveled curls haloing him in the dim light. Astarion drags a hand down your collarbone, delicately tracing the veins under your skin before gently cupping your breast. A flick of his wrist has you gasping as he plays with your nipple. You can’t help but thrust your hips up, seeking the attention that Astarion is teasing. He ignores your silent plea, stilling his hand until you follow suit.
“You’re not playing fair.” You halfheartedly complain, willing your body to calm.
“I never promised that I would, my sweet.” You don’t know what god or goddess you should pray to to thank them for bringing you Astarion, but you’re a devout believer. “Now stay still, or I might bite.” He flashes his fangs at you. It’s not a real threat. He’d never actually bite you without your consent, but the tease still sends shivers down your spine. Coursing through your body until they land, pulsing deeply in your cunt. Astarion leans forward, an illusion of a predator cornering their prey. His soft cock begins to harden as he cups your face in both of his hands. Cradling you as if you’re something breakable, something precious. Astarion swipes his thumb across your cheek as he stares into your eyes–as if it’s the first time he’s seen the sunrise. “I love you.”
Astarion pounces, taking you down with a devastatingly deep kiss. If kisses were ambrosia you’d have been drunk ages ago. And still you want more. You need more of him. His heart, his touch, gods above, you need his cock that’s pressed between your thigh and his abdomen, but Astarion refuses to stop kissing you or to move into a more accessible position. He slides his tongue into your mouth, licking you open until you writhe and squirm with a need that burns so hot it overpowers your senses. But even still, Astarion doesn’t relent. He presses on, moving from your mouth back down to your throat where he begins to suck bruises to your sensitive skin. Out of pure desperation, you grasp at his back until your fingers graze his scars before moving to grip his shoulders. You clutch him to you just as passionately as he kisses you. It takes everything inside of you not to bust and fade away into the Weave as Astarion uses his weight to keep you pinned to the bed. His lips move from your throat and for one solitary second you think he might give you what you need, but no. Instead, he works his way along your jaw, tracing you with his mouth until he finds the place under your ear that drives you wild.
“Fuck–please! Astarion—” His cock, hard and weeping now, rests on your stomach. Pressed between your bodies as Astarion rolls his hips. Clenching, you feel your arousal dripping out to stain the sheets below. You’re wet, so unbearably wet and empty and aching for him to fill you. You’re pleading and your moans do nothing to sway the elf, though you know the bastard hears you. His pointed ears twitch as you cry out for him, but he continues to hold you down. Unwilling to pull back even an inch to separate himself from you. You manage to angle your arm just enough to get a solid handful of his hair, and begin to pull. Slowly but firmly enough that his head raises just enough to make eye contact, and as you do, you feel his cock throb with need. He likes this.
“Oh fu–ck!” Astarion’s shameless cry comes out sticky sweet from his throat, Adam’s apple quivering prominently. He sounds drunk. He looks it too. The expression on his face is close to ecstasy before you accidentally lose your hold on his hair. Too turned on and thoroughly debauched to be able to concentrate on keeping your grip. Not when he shifts his hips to create a delicious friction between your slick pussy and his engorged cock. You chase the feeling, grinding against him as best you can, but to no avail. You’re still pinned beneath him. Hips and thighs locked. Both you and Astarion are reduced to base instincts as his rigid cock slides over your clit once more before contact is lost. This isn’t fucking working. You’re only briefly aware of the pillows being pushed to the floor, shoved away by Astarion to make better room for your head, before his hand reaches down. He shifts and forces your leg over his hip. He’s a man consumed by desire. His need for you.
Astarion hovers over you, his crimson eyes piercing you through your heart as you reach for him, aiming to pull him back down for another taste of his ambrosia lips. Instead he captures your hand in his and pulls it to his bloodstained mouth. He sweeps gentle kisses over your knuckles before intertwining his fingers with yours and pins it to the mattress. His other hand finds your thigh, grasping tightly before guiding your knee to your chest. Opening and exposing your pussy for him to slide his cock against your entrance. “That’s it darling,” he encourages you. Praising you as he slides against you, slowly dragging his cock along your wet slit. The head of his cock catches, and without hesitation, Astarion presses in. It’s blissful and devastating as Astarion finally fucking fills you. Sliding in on one long stroke to fully seat you on his cock. He doesn’t pull out, just gently grinds against you. His smooth skin and throbbing cock caressing you until your breath leaves. Whisked away by your lover, leaving you with blurry vision and a spinning room. “Now, now. We can’t have that.” Astarion rolls his hips, wonderfully grinding against your folds and bringing friction that your clit so desperately desires. The sensation makes you gasp, forcing you to gulp down air, reminding you that you’re here–now. Very much alive and not in heaven, no matter how much it feels like you are.
“Astarion–”
You’re not sure if he’s listening. Flaming eyes and a silent snarl are all that he gives you besides a deep guttural moan as he continues to fuck you. It’s slow and brutal and entirely different from any performance he puts on. This isn’t Astarion trying to pretend to be anything other than the vampire–the man that he is. Desperate and extraordinarily dangerous as he claims you for himself. Your orgasm taunts you. Haunting you from the edges, and you want it so fucking bad, but you also couldn’t care any less. It’s now, it’s this moment, it’s Astarion who holds your attention in his iron grasp. Ruining you with his love. You hear the wet sounds of your pussy as he fucks into you. Pushing more of your arousal out of your cunt with his cock. He lets go of your hand and leans in close, snaking his arm under the small of your back. Using his vampiric strength, Astarion pulls on you, just enough that your hips shift to a new glorious angle. One that has him hitting a spot that makes you go feral underneath him as his pelvis grinds against your clit on every stroke. He keeps his other hand firmly under your knee, pushing your leg into a position that stretches your hips. It all feels so fucking good.
Astarion’s taut, muscular body moves over you. He’s graceful even now as he holds you, fucking you rhythmically. You clench around him, wordlessly asking him for more, and he raises his head. Fangs snapping in the air, muscles tensing in his neck as Astarion tries hopelessly to hold on to his senses. A half-baked idea forms in your dazed brain. You don’t stop to think it through, you can’t. You just act, throwing your arm around Astarion’s neck, pulling him close until you have him right where you want him. You sink your blunt teeth into the side of his neck. Your vampiric imitation pales in comparison to the true thing. Only biting hard enough to bruise his delicate moonlight skin. The moment you bite down on Astarion’s neck, you feel his cock throbbing inside of you. His breath hitches in your ear as you press your tongue against his skin and a soft moan escapes his lips.
“Fuck–” he growls through gritted fangs. Dropping your leg, Astarion moves his hands to the curve of your hips. Holding on tight, and pinning you down as you continue your mock feeding. “Fancy yourself a vampire now, darling?” You bite down harder in agreement and Astarion melts in your arms. Moaning as you claim him as yours in return. “I think not,” he protests, and for a second you think it’s an empty threat. It feels like he’s close, like he’s struggling to keep from falling over the edge. That is until he starts to move again, fucking your pussy like a goddamn promise. “I’m the only blood sucker you’ll find in this bed, darling, and I’m going to eat you right up.” Before you know what’s happened, Astarion has hold of both your legs, knees propped over his strong shoulders. He circles your aching clit with his thumb as he savagely fucks you. Tits bouncing from the force, sliding you up the bed on every thrust. You feel the spit that streaks your lips as you gasp out for him. It’s too intense–too much all at once. You try to hold on, to stop your orgasm from slamming into. Astarion gives you a saccharine smile. "You sound so adorable when you're trying not to come."
You beg.
You curse.
You come.
Gushing on his cock, your body is electrified, and you fall. Blood rushes in your ears so loudly you can’t hear anything. Your senses thrust you into a burning pit of pleasure as Astarion forces you down further. Spiraling until you find yourself caught, supported in Astarion’s arms. An uncomfortable wetness coats your legs and part or Astarion’s stomach but you can’t find the motivation to care because somehow, he’s still moving. He's held on long enough to fuck you through you orgasm. Giving your pussy long, even strokes as he chases his high. His ethereal face is close and so you take him with your lips. Kissing him, licking his fangs, until you feel his cock pulsing, overfilling you until his spend leaks out from around his cock. Adding to the mess.You feel like you’re floating. Exhausted, yes, but happy and ready to sleep. The mess will keep till nightfall when it’s time to wake, but Astarion shows no sign of slowing.
“No, my love. You're doing so well for me, but I’m not done with you yet.” Grabbing a pillow from the floor, Astarion cups your head, lifting it for you to place the cushion underneath before tenderly laying you back down. He slides down your body, lavishing you with attention. Forcing you to stay in the present with him by kissing your dips and curves. Any place he finds on your body he marks it for himself. Kneeling between your legs he softly coaxes you open. His spent cock rests half hard but bobs in excitement as he spreads the lips of your soaked pussy, licking his lips like he's being presented with a feast in his honor. The air from the room feels cold and uncomfortable on your wet entrance, covered in the sticky slick remnants of your lovemaking. It makes you clench involuntarily and more of Astarion leaks out of you. Astarion looks ruined at the sight of you. His perfect features contort into agonized lust before he leans in.
“Wait! No I’m too–” He doesn’t listen. Astarion leans down and wraps his lips around your mound. You can’t help the way your body jerks at the first swipe of his tongue on your oversensitive pussy. He’s cleaning the mess he's made of you. His sharp fangs are hot pinpricks on your skin that further blur the line of pleasure and pain you’re walking down. Another swipe of Astarion’s tongue has you twisting, kicking your legs to pull away. You move higher up on the bed, willing space for your body to recover. “Please, I need a minute. ”
Astarion reaches up, catches your ankle in his firm grasp, and pulls. His strength makes it look easy as he drags you, clutching at the traitorous bed sheets in desperation, to his parted lips. “I said I’d eat you up darling, and frankly, I’m still absolutely famished.��� His voice is gravel but yours is fire as he begins to eat his fill of you. This time you’re unable to pull away. He’s wrapped his arms around your thighs, locking your cunt to his mouth so he can eat you like a piece of fruit that drips down his lips and chin. Saccharine sweet and delicious as Astarion consumes you. Fucking you with his tongue. Licking your nectar coated skin and sucking you between his teeth.
You lack any leverage to fight back, to twist away. Your entire lower half is being held up off the bed by the vampire feasting on your pussy. If you sincerely asked for him to let you go, to set you back down you know he would, but you can’t force yourself to say the words. You don’t want to. You want this. Astarion knows you want this as you gasp, muscles clenching while he sucks your clit between his lips. His breath is hot flames that lick along your scorched nerves. “That’s it, love. You can give me one more, can’t you darling.”
Yes, you think, or maybe you agree out loud because you hear Astarion chuckle before kissing his praise into cunt. For a second you’re confused as he pulls back again, wondering why he’s stopped. But then Astarion adjusts his grip on you, making sure your leg is solidly hooked over his shoulder, before he slides two fingers into your pussy. “Ah! P-please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, but Astarion gives it to you all the same. Scissoring his fingers, he strokes your cunt. Gently trying to coax out your pleasure, caressing your insides until you sing. his lips find your folds once more. His devastating accuracy brings you over the edge in moments. You’re left gasping, head spinning as the position Astarion holds you in makes it hard to breathe. It takes him a few moments, his lips busy kissing your pussy, his tongue lapping your mess, before he eases you back down into the ruined silk sheets. His mouth finds yours and you taste yourself on his lips, bitter in comparison to how thoroughly sweet he’s being.
You feel dazed–and elated. Your body floats somewhere between the heavens and the earth. Entwined together with Astarion who holds you close, refusing to let you go, but you don’t mind. His skin, though warm, is still much cooler than yours. It feels wonderful as your heartbeat begins to slow, your breathing returning to normal. Turning your head just so brings Astarion’s lips back to yours and the easy kisses you share almost bring tears to your eyes. Blinking them away is easy though as Astarion deepens the kiss, parting your lips so gently you don’t realize what’s happening at first. Not until you feel Astarion shifting his hips to slide his engorged cock along your entrance once more. You part easily for him, sending shivers of over-stimulation mixed with desire through every limb. There is no rush this time. Just a few languid strokes that have you gasping into Astarion’s mouth before he stills. Even while kissing you, you can see the smirk on his face as he allows you to adjust to holding him inside. Laying there together, connected in the deepest sense. Warming each other with limbs and lips entangled. “What the hell has gotten into you?” You don’t really expect an answer from Astarion as he seems to be preoccupied with lavishing attention across your collarbone.
“I’ve decided to reclaim the day for myself. It’s what I’m owed,” he sulks, looking up at you through his pretty eyelashes, but you can hear the sincerity behind his words. Yes. Yes, Astarion is owed the day. The sun. That and so much more, but not all of it is within your power to give. But this–this you can do. His ruby eyes sparkle in the candlelight as they dance along your face. Your answering smile stuns him into silence.
*************************
The sun has long since set as you stifle a yawn. Nostalgia returns once more. It’s been ages since the night meant it was time to rest, but the elf who’s at fault for keeping you up all day looks positively happy. So you let your complaints remain silent as you gaze at your lover. A heavy tomb rests in his lap and a gold chalice clutched in his delicate hand is filled with either wine or blood. You can’t tell from your position across the room. Reluctantly, you glance back down to the delicately looping script on the thick parchment in front of you. The letter is from Gale, back in his tower in Waterdeep. You’ve been trying to read it for the last half hour, but Astarion is just, so distracting. Honestly, anything could distract you from Gale going on about his Tressym, but Astarion seems to be especially good at it. That is until your eyes catch a few words that make you excited.
“Astarion.”
“Yes, darling?” He answers, eyes slow to leave the pages of his book.
“How would you feel about visiting with Gale for a bit?”
Astarion doesn’t try to hide the disinterest on his face at all as he turns his attention back to his reading. “No.”
“It’s just that–wait. No?” His answer takes you completely off guard. “What do you mean no?”
He heaves a sigh into his book. “I suppose if he were to come here that would be fine with me, but I’m far too busy this evening to travel all the way down to the Lower City just to visit with Gale.”
“Busy?” you laugh. “What do you have planned that makes you “too busy” to see a friend?”
“First of all,” he interjects. Head raising until he adopts a pose of self-importance. “‘Friend’ is much too strong of a descriptor for my relationship with that wizard. At most we are merely,” his graceful fingers swirl about until he finds the words he’s searching for, “–former work associates at best.”
“Oh is that so?” you say, smiling up at the hill you know Astarion is about to come down from.
“And besides, what if I get a bit peckish later tonight?” He pouts, coyly looking up at you through his eyelashes. “Neither one of us would like Gale around for that.”
“Well you’re being very greedy tonight, and I can’t say I don’t like it either,” you shoot him a look before unburying the lead. “But Gale isn’t in Baldur’s Gate, love. He’s invited us to his tower in Waterdeep.”
“Why would we travel all the way to Waterdeep just to see Gale fawn over his cat?”
You hold out the thick parchment letter with Gale’s elegant handwriting for him to look over. “Apparently, Gale and Tara have a lead on a cure for your sun sensitivity–” Astarion is out of his seat, book falling heavily to the floor, and by your side in an instant. He snatches the letter from your hand, reading Gale’s words for himself. You put on an air of indifference. “But if you really don’t want to go visit an old ‘work associate’, I understand.”
“Now now now, my love. Let’s not be hasty.” You roll your eyes. “Gale is a dear friend of ours! And I hear that Waterdeep is beautiful this time of year, not as beautiful as I am, of course, but that would be expecting far too much I suppose.” You let Astarion read on, absorbing the message for himself. “Well,” he says as he reaches the end, signed with your friend’s love. “It seems our wizard has been busy. Very busy, if he has a possible solution for you too.”
“I’m not worried about that just yet, but it’s nice to know I might be able to stick around longer than I thought possible.” Astarion caresses your cheek, allowing you space in the same way you provide for him. “I think I’m ready for another adventure though. It’s been a while since anyone’s tried to murder us. What do you think, love?”
He bends down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “I’m ready to have some fun,” he smiles. Fangs and all.
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Soft Yandere Ascended Astarion Headcannons
I’ve decided to make some Ascended Astarion headcannons as if he was a soft yandere once he ascended so they are a little ooc. Just dipping my toe into writing for BG3
You did such a wonderful job, leading the party all that time. But now that your adventure is over it's time for Astarion to take charge. “You were so strong for us, love. Now let me spoil you and do all the hard work. I don’t want my treasure to worry their pretty little head over anything!”
He doesn't want you to have to lift a finger for anything beyond simple pleasures. He lavishes you with affection, his beloved treasure.
He helps to bath and dress you as often as he can. He takes very good care of what is his, as evident from his 200 year old clothing still in decent condition. So he does quite enjoy taking care of you.
While he had teased about having you naked on his lap for everyone to see, he's possessive. Only the maids that help to dress you when he cannot are allowed to see you bare. Anyone else loses an eye for daring to look at what is his.
He dresses you in silk. Covered in jewels. He even spends his precious time embroidering some of your clothes for you.
He embroiders your smallclothes to say "Astarion's treasure, keep out or lose a hand!" It's only slightly a joke, anyone who dares to touch you inappropriately does tend to lose a hand.
He is very strict about your health. When it's time for you to eat or sleep, you will be eating or sleeping. If he has to compel you to do so, he will. “Now, now my pet- no pouting. You need your rest, even if I have to swaddle you up in all those cozy furs over there.”
Getting so much as a paper cut triggers his need to protect you. He doesn’t let you so much as turn a page or open a letter for a week after such an injury.
He's so overprotective that he even creates several spawn whose only job is to keep you safe. If they fail to keep you safe or even dare to express a disdain for you, his precious consort, his beloved spawn- he kills them to make an example of them. To remind the others that you are the only one that is indispensable to him.
You never have to find your own meals, Astarion hunts for you. Presenting you with blood whenever you could possibly have even the smallest of peckish feelings. He said that being his spawn would be different for you, and it is. Instead of serving him, he could be seen as serving you. Anything you want, you get. Within reason, if you want to leave him or become a true vampire those are not reasonable desires.
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Your writing is so good! How about a hurt/comfort where a little bit of time after Cazador's defeat, Tav/reader wakes up screaming Astarion's name bc they had a nightmare that Cazador had managed to take Astarion back. They wake up in terror and practically clings to Astarion
Thanks so much for this writing prompt, anon! I hope you enjoy.
PLEASE take note of the warning tags for this one. The nightmare is pretty violent stuff.
Love in the Time of Nightmares
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Astarion x gn!Tav
Word Count: 1.5K
Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse and mental abuse, torture, blood/bruises/lacerations, fluff and angst.
Consciousness clawed its way through Tav’s body, scraping against their fractured ribs, digging into the bruises that bloomed across their arms and legs like some twisted watercolor masterpiece. Tav groaned as they came to, eyes straining to make sense of their surroundings.
Wherever they were, it was in near-total darkness. And it reeked of putrefaction. The air was saturated with fetid moisture. It felt like a rotting cloth had been placed over their mouth and nose. Where in the sweet hells were they?
As other senses slowly came online, Tav realized they were lying on their side, curled into a fetal position. A manacle ensnared one ankle, the cold metal biting into their skin. The floor on which they were lying was made of coarse stone. The grit of it snagged against their skin and clothes.
A whimper from somewhere nearby refocused their attention.
In front of them, Tav could barely make out the ghostly pale form of Astarion, half-naked, hunched over his knees on the damp floor. His hands were shackled to a bolt fastened into the stone. His wrists were cut and bleeding from an obvious attempt to slip through the cuffs. He was bruised and battered across his abdomen. And his back.
Oh, his back.
Tav released an anguished cry as their eyes beheld Astarion’s back. The infernal script had been cut into anew. The lacerations wept openly, forming rivulets down his spine.
“Astarion–” Tav croaked, attempting to draw his attention.
A voice from further ahead interrupted them.
“Did you honestly believe you could ever escape me, boy?” Cazador’s snakelike hiss reverberated throughout the cavernous dungeon.
At that voice, that hideous voice, Tav watched, helpless, as shivers wracked Astarion’s body. He began openly weeping, his head bowing over his shackled hands.
The bobbing light of a torch appeared through the gloom moments later, revealing the vile form of his former master. Cazador sauntered forward, closing in on Astarion. His gait was as casual as any nobleman enjoying a springtime promenade. Bile wrenched itself up through Tav’s throat, searing their esophagus along the way.
They watched as Cazador knelt before Astarion. He began petting his silver curls, tutting softly. It was a profane mimicry of comfort. Sobs only wracked Astarion’s body more violently.
The sight enraged Tav. Righteous anger surged through them. They smacked the floor, hard, with the edge of their fist, drawing Cazador’s attention.
“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HIM,” Tav screamed, vocal cords straining. They lurched forward to grab at the horrible creature but were halted abruptly by the chain pulled taut against their ankle.
Cazador gave a mirthless laugh, rising to full height and acknowledging Tav for the first time.
“You foolish child,” he spat. “You dare presume to command me? Astarion is mine. Mine to punish. To destroy. To do with as I wish.”
“NO. We destroyed you. You don’t own him anymore!” Tav cried, wrenching at the manacle once more.
Cazador threw his head back with a barking laugh. In the corner of their eye, Tav noted how the sound caused Astarion to shrink further into himself. The sight eviscerated their heart. To see their lover beaten down so low.
“I will always own him,” Cazador insisted. “My newest spellwork will see to that.”
With a snap of his fingers, the chains shackling Astarion’s wrists released from the bolt on the floor and flew into Cazador’s waiting hand. He jerked them violently, causing Astarion to lurch forward with a cry, barely catching himself from landing face first on the stones. Another tug, and Astarion was half-crawling, half-dragging behind Cazador as the slavemaster made his way back through the darkness of the dungeon.
“NO! DON’T TAKE HIM! PLEASE!” Tav screamed, eyes tracking Astarion’s form as he disappeared into the gloom. They kicked against the shackle, ripping their skin to shreds.
“ASTARION! ASTARION–”
The next thing they knew, strong arms were banding around their waist. Firm. Solid.
Tav’s eyes fluttered open, taking in their surroundings with a feral sort of awareness. Their heart hammered in their chest. Their lungs heaved with the effort to take in more air.
“Shhh, darling. It’s all right. It’s all right,” Astarion’s low, melodic voice soothed in their ear. His chest was pressed against their back, spooning them. Tav felt his legs intertwine with theirs, drawing them even closer.
Tav clutched at his hands as their attention darted around the room. They were in their bedroom, in the bed they shared with Astarion. In their home in the Underdark.
There was the glow worm terrarium on their night stand. They had fashioned it as a sort of night light, even if it was always “night” here. It limned the room with a gentle bluish hue. And farther away, there was the dresser they both shared, hewn from driftwood Tav had collected above ground. Their collection of paintings - sunrises, mostly - hung scattered about the four walls. The woody smell of incense drifted to their nose, bringing a sense of comfort and familiarity.
They were home. Astarion was safe. He was here. They were safe. Astarion was safe.
But the mantra couldn’t stop the tears from spilling. The nightmare had felt so very real. It had attacked every one of their senses. They still felt like they could smell the rotten mugginess of the dungeon if they concentrated hard enough.
“I’m sorry,” Tav sobbed, turning their face into their pillow to muffle their crying. “I didn’t mean to– to–”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, my love,” Astarion whispered, clutching them tighter around the waist. “You were dreaming. It was just a dream,” he murmured, over and over again, kissing their shoulders and neck in between the words.
“I thought you’d been taken again – that… that he had taken you,” they keened, eyes clenched shut.
“Never, darling. He’s dead. Long gone. And I’m right here. Right here with you,” Astarion affirmed. But Tav continued to cry. Heartbreaking sounds emanated from their muffled form.
“Here, turn over and face me,” he urged softly, unable to bear their anguish a moment longer.
Slowly, he moved Tav so that they were lying face to face in the bed, their noses nearly touching. Astarion lifted a hand to cradle their cheek. The other hand slipped over the dip of their waist. He began rubbing soothing circles against their back.
“See, darling? I’m right here,” he smiled gently, meeting their teary gaze.
Tav nodded mutely, eyes never leaving his. Slowly, they raised a hand to trace their fingers across his brow. Down the line of his nose. Over his cheekbones. Around his lips. Across his jaw. They watched as Astarion closed his eyes, soaking in their touch. He allowed them to continue their ministrations, doing what they needed to in order to feel assured.
“It was a dream,” Tav finally whispered after a few moments of tracing Astarion’s features. Their words sounded more like a question than a declaration.
“It was only a dream,” he swore seriously, moving his hand to cradle the back of their head. He planted a chaste kiss against their forehead.
Tav bowed their head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent of bergamot and clove.
“I love you,” they whispered faintly against his neck, feeling utterly spent from the emotional response the nightmare had created.
“I love you,” Astarion returned. He continued to rub their back, tracing idle circles against their nightshirt.
“Can you tell me a story?” Tav asked, breaking the comforting silence of the room.
“About what, darling?” Astarion replied.
“Anything. Tell me about the last book you read. Or the plans we’re developing for that commune, to rehome all the spawn.”
“Very well,” he agreed, kissing their forehead again. He began describing, in elaborate detail, every room of the commune they were working to build for all of Cazador’s formerly imprisoned spawn. He provided Tav a verbal tour of all of his plans, his ideas for each of the common spaces, his intended partnership with the Myconid colony to cultivate a community garden. On and on he went, pouring out every iota of his ideas – even the ones that were still half-formed imaginations.
His eloquent cadence slowly led Tav back into drowsiness. He listened as their breathing became slower, more even. Finally, sure that they were well and truly asleep once more, he quieted. He took in the peacefulness of their bedroom. Observed his partner sleeping in his arms once more.
It had been three years since Baldur’s Gate. The nightmares still came frequently for both of them. Most of the time, it was he who woke in the middle of the night, needing comfort and assurances from Tav. Other times, like tonight, it was Tav. Astarion wasn’t sure either of their mental scars would ever truly disappear, no matter how long time marched on.
But the life they had carved out for themselves was a beautiful one. Full of life. Full of love. And full of belonging. Try as they might, that was something the nightmares would never, ever, take from them.
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Mating Season
Halsin x Female Reader | sexual frustration | sexual tension | growly bear halsin | totally adoring halsin | horny bear mating instincts | semi-shifted sex | fluff | smut | nsfw
How Halsin’s romance might have played out if we could have had his kisses, adoration, and been totally railed senseless by Oak Daddy from the end of Act I. An ode to Halsin’s hairy chest, big arms, and the vein that I know stands out so thickly on his *muffled horny noises*
After a long and tiring day of fighting off goblins as you search for the Githyanki Crèche, you groan in relief as you sink into the cool waters of the river. Everyone else is back at camp and you’re able to enjoy the currents swirling around your naked body.
You float in the water, thinking about how much your party has grown in the past few weeks. First Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion, then Lae’zel, Wyll, and Karlach, and finally Halsin, the wildshape druid you rescued from the goblins. He’s a focused member of the group, a valuable healer, and an unstoppable force in battle. You occasionally feel things turning against you in a fight, and then Halsin is there, supporting the group and laying down swathes of flame, lightning and ice. His bear shape never fails to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies.
Around the fire at night, he talks openly about his quest to free the Shadow-Cursed lands, his admiration for the party, and his praise for your leadership. His gentle words about you have your body prickling with awareness of his.
That warm smile of his. His large and clever hands. His deep, gentle voice. Everything about this man makes you tingle all the way down to your toes. Whenever you think his gaze is lingering on your mouth, he murmurs goodnight to you and leaves your side. You watch him go, wishing that instead he would reach out and touch you.
An angry, snarling sound fills the air and you sit up in the water. Not far from you, an enormous bear, grunting and breathing hard, walks heavily down the riverbank. It’s huge, and its muscular body blocking out the setting sun, and from the noises it's making and its attitude, it’s a hair's-breadth from lashing out at anything that moves.
You freeze, not daring even to breathe, hoping with everything you have that the animal will turn around and head back the other way. Instead, it launches itself into the water with an almighty splash.
As it disappears beneath the surface, you notice a faint scar over the bear’s right eye, as if it’s been clawed. You recognize that scar.
Wait, is this--
Golden light flashes. The water seethes. A man stands up where there was a bear just moments ago, water cascading from his body. Halsin, and he must have stripped before he changed into wildshape for now he’s completely naked, standing hip-deep in the water.
He’s partly turned away from you but you can tell his manner is no less worked up than it was in bear form. He swipes his hands angrily through his dripping hair and breathes hard, the muscles of his shoulders and arms clenched in frustration.
Halsin is one of the gentlest-natured men you’ve ever met, most of the time. Like nature, he too can be wild, his eyes flashing and his voice breaking like thunder over you when he’s frustrated or disappointed, such as when he was remonstrating Kagha for the Rite of Thorns. How magnificent he was that day.
But what is he restless for now? He stands in the water, looking around at the forest, gripped with frustration, and when he turns a little more your way you can see that the root of his cock is thickened in a tell-tale manner.
Ah.
That kind of frustration.
You quietly make your way to the edge of the river where a willow tree is trailing in the water, moving as carefully and as quietly as you can. This feels like a private moment you’re intruding on. Even though you don’t mean to spy, it feels like you are. The fronds of the willow provide a little cover for you, and hopefully Halsin will cool off and leave the way he came.
The dice do not roll your way this evening as he approaches you, seeking deeper water. A moment later, your gazes lock, and his eyes widen in surprise.
‘What are you doing there?’
‘I wasn’t spying on you,’ you tell him quickly. ‘I thought you needed some peace, so I was waiting here quietly.’
His eyes run over you, your back pressed against the river bank and cowering amid the willow leaves.
Halsin heaves a regretful sigh. ‘I frightened you, didn’t I? I am sorry. It’s all right, I am myself again.’
He smiles and holds out his hand. It’s a tight smile, like he’s forcing it for you, but you’re no longer worried a bear is about to disembowel you.
You place your cool fingers into his large, hot ones and let him draw you slowly out of your hiding place. The water is deep enough here that your nakedness is covered, and so is his.
You relax as you gaze up at him, enjoying the sensation of Halsin holding your hand. Quietly enjoying the sight of his bare chest and handsome face. You hope he might walk you into the shallows so you can be naked together, but he remains in deep water, sunk in thought.
‘The river is yours. I’ll leave you to enjoy it,’ you murmur, and glance to where you left your clothes.
Halsin’s fingers are still tightly twined through yours beneath the water. He seems to be in a world of his own as he gazes at your mouth, your throat, the droplets of water sliding through your wet hair and down your shoulders. A world that includes you. A world where you’re touching one another.
‘Halsin?’ you ask tentatively. Hopefully. If he wants to move closer and kiss you, that’s more than okay with you. After a long and dusty day, there’s nothing you’d like more than exploring his body in the cool water. That hairy chest of his. His hard muscles. You long to run your tongue over him. Flex your fingers on his biceps. Trace the red tattoo on his cheek.
Halsin comes back into himself with a deep inhale, and he lets go of your hand. ‘Then I’ll see you back at camp.’ He moves away from you through the currents.
As you push the water from your body and dress in your clothes, you search for Halsin in the river, but he’s disappeared around a bend.
***
Later around the campfire, you’re hyper aware of Halsin as you talk with Gale about his home in Baldur’s Gate. Halsin is silent, the campfire flickering over his handsome face. You try not to pay him any more attention than you do the others, but your interest in him has spilled over into blazing attraction.
Your gazes lock and Halsin’s brows are drawn tightly together.
Is he glaring at you?
A moment later he gets to his feet and, unnoticed by the others, slips away into the darkness. Something’s eating at that man and you wish you knew what.
A short time later, you take a bottle down to the river to refill it with water before turning and heading for your bed. As you round the corner of the ruin where you’ve made your camp, you run straight into Halsin.
His eyes widen and they flare with heat and surprise, and then he quickly looks away and moves past you.
‘Have I done something to make you angry with me?’ you call after him.
Halsin stops dead. He stares straight ahead for a moment, and then slowly turns to you, shaking his head. ‘Far from it. I am worked up and frustrated, but not with anger.’
Maybe his frustrations are because of you, and that’s a thought you don’t know what to do with when he keeps avoiding you.
Not knowing what else to say, you tell him, ‘We will free the Shadow-Cursed lands soon. I know we will.’
He breathes out heavily, his expression troubled. ‘I’m not thinking of the Shadow-Curse right now, even though I should be. It is more important than anything I...’ He trails off, but his gaze lingers on your mouth. ‘...want.’
Halsin steps closer, and you feel the heat blazing off his chest. His warmth and bulk are so welcoming and you crave to reach out and touch him. The backs of his fingers caress your hair. The lightest of touches. Then he takes a handful of your hair and dips his head, bringing the strands to his nose.
‘You smell wonderful.’ He heaves a deep sigh, and whispers, ‘Can I hold you for a moment?’
That sounds lovely to you, and you nod.
Halsin wraps an arm around your waist, scoops you against him, and buries his face in your neck. ‘By Silvanus, your scent is sweet,’ he groans. ‘I caught it when we first met, in that foul goblin nest. How it pleased me. Getting to know you these past few weeks has been even sweeter.’
Your hands are plastered against his chest and so is your body. He’s saying everything you hoped to hear. More than you hoped to hear. He has such a beautiful way with words. You turn your head so he can kiss you, but he still refrains.
Taking a ragged breath, he releases you and steps back. ‘I’m sorry. It’s always difficult this time of year.’
You miss his warmth so much that you shiver. ‘What time of year?’
He gazes at you for a long time. ‘You may laugh, but I’ll tell you. It’s bear mating season.’
You don’t laugh, but your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
‘I know--I’m no bear,’ Halsin says with a laugh of his own, ‘but I spend so much time in wildshape that bear instincts tug on my heart and...other parts of me. I return to my own form and unfortunately the needs do not dissipate. In fact, they worsen, because it is not a bear I want. When she comes close to me smelling like spring and honey and warm sunshine I can’t help but crave her.’ A smile glimmers on his lips.
Enough being vague. You want to hear him say it. You step closer and put a hand against his chest. ‘A general someone, or anyone in particular?’
He groans softly and captures your face in his hands. He drinks you in and swipes his thumb across your lips. The gesture is soft, and full of the promise of his kiss.
‘You are someone I admire and I think I could grow to care deeply about,’ he murmurs. ‘I care about you so much already. Any little scratch you receive I want to push Shadowheart out of the way and tend to you myself.’
Your heart soars.
‘But this isn’t how or when I wanted to begin anything with you. I have to walk away.’
Disappointment plummets through you.
He’s still holding your face and his expression is conflicted. It seems he wants to put an end to this for now but can’t bring himself to do it.
‘I can walk away, if that helps?’
His eyes fill with gratitude and longing. ‘Please. That would be a mercy. Know that when the time comes, I will come to you with more than lust in my heart.’
You nod, trailing your fingers down his chest as you step back, but you fail to see what’s wrong with him desiring you. ‘Whatever you need. Of course.’
‘I hope I haven’t offended you.’
You smile gently at him. ‘Your desire is so far from offensive. Please know that I don’t demand more of your attention than you’re willing to give. The Shadow Cursed lands are your priority and I’m...’ How to put this delicately? I’m here for you and you can rail me senseless in between your duties whenever you want to let off steam. That’s what you want to say, but you’re too shy to say it. ‘...Here. Your friend. Always.’
Halsin seems to catch your meaning anyway as his jaw flexes and he nods slowly.
You promised him you would walk away, and you do, and though you give him ample time to allow him to pull you back, the next sound you hear is a clash and a growl, and a flare of golden light. When you glance over your shoulder, a bear is thundering into the woods on all fours.
***
A few days later, you’re returning to camp feeling like you’ve been put through a meat grinder, and your companions haven’t fared much better. Gale is unusually silent and covered in blood. Shadowheart is exhausted and dragging her feet. You’re trying not to limp because she and Halsin have already cast so much healing magic. Something’s wrong with your leg, but you’ll see to it yourself when you’re alone.
The others bid you tired farewells as they head for their tents, but someone catches your arm and holds you back.
‘Oak Father, you’re bleeding. Why didn’t you say anything?’
Halsin is staring at your legs, and you stare with him. Blood is pooling around your foot. Oh, that’s not good.
‘I can tend to it myself after I’ve had some rest--’
Your words are cut off as the massive druid picks you up in his arms and carries you into a crumbling barn. Automatically, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean against the solid bulk of his chest. Halsin lays you down on a pallet and helps you remove your armour, revealing a ragged gash on the top of your thigh. Your clothes have to be cut away until your legs are bare.
Halsin looks exhausted and has dark circles under his eyes. It seems he’s been taking little rest as he roams the forests nightly as a bear. When he reaches for you to lay healing hands on your wound, you place a hand on his wrist.
‘You don’t have to do this right now. I’ll bandage myself up and someone can heal me after they’ve rested.’
Halsin raises challenging eyebrows at you. ‘You believe I don’t have the strength to heal you myself? That I’ll walk away from the most important person in my life and leave her bleeding?’
You moisten your lips, trying not to show how much his words have affected you. The most important person in his life? Suddenly you don’t feel injured at all, and he hasn’t even healed you yet.
‘I have more than enough magic left for this. Now, lay back and let me do my work, and then you can get back to yours.’
You settle back on the pallet and gaze at the cobwebby rafters. Halsin’s hands hover over your thigh, and a warm, delicious feeling spreads through your leg, and then up between your thighs. Your head falls back in relief and pleasure.
Even Halsin makes a surprised noise. ‘That felt...’ He rubs your now-healed high, massaging the last of the tension and pain from your muscles. ‘That felt different. How’s your thigh now?’
You can’t help but moan and arch your back a little at his touch. ‘Good.’ Your voice comes out in a breathy whisper.
‘Just good?’ He strokes his palm over where there was a cut just moments ago.
‘Halsin, please, you make me feel heavenly,’ you whimper. The words pass your lips without thinking. You reach up to take hold of his shoulders so you can pull him down to kiss you, but pull back before you can touch him.
This isn’t what he wants. Your hands clench on the pallet, feeling your core ache with need. As soon as he leaves, you can get yourself off thinking about him.
‘Would you like me to go?’ he asks softly.
‘I never want you to go.’
His hand rests lightly on your leg.
You open your eyes and gaze up at him, and he’s sitting so close to you. ‘But if you stay, you’re going to see me touching myself.’ Then you smile at him, remembering your last conversation. ‘I would love for you to see that. As a friend.’
You want him to see you. You want him to participate.
He smiles and leans down to you, and runs the blade of his nose up your cheek. ‘I can’t think of anything more wonderful after a long, hard day, my dear friend.’
Halsin lays down beside you and props his head against his fist. With gentle fingers, he helps you to drag your underwear down your legs and cast them aside. As your teeth sink into your lower lip, you gently touch yourself, your eyes on his handsome face. Halsin strokes your thighs, your stomach, finds the fastenings on your clothes and loosens them. As he pulls back your bodice, revealing your breasts, he lowers his head to take one of your nipples in his mouth.
You cry out and flex up into him. Heat is gathering within you. You suck on your lower lip and release it. ‘Please--your fingers--I need--’ you manage between pants. You can barely get the words out, but he understands. Halsin drags two fingers through your sex, making them slippery, and then sinks them inside you.
Another loud cry from you. Gods, he feels perfect.
Halsin groans and kisses your throat, murmuring, ‘You’re so tight around me. Have you been as frustrated as I am?’ He pumps his thick fingers in and out of you, slowly at first, and then faster.
Yes you have, the godsdamned stubborn bear of man. He should have pulled you into his arms that day in the river and let you suck all the frustration from his body out through his cock.
‘So frustrated,’ you whimper. ‘Please, that feels so good. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.’
He brushes his lips over yours. ‘I won’t stop. You’re always so beautiful, but like this, all of nature pales in comparison.’
You reach down and lay your hand over his wrist, adoring the tension and flex of his muscles in his arm as he moves inside you. Your fingers keep moving on your clit as you moan and cry out his name, and when you come you dig your nails into his flesh, and press your feet into the ground so he can fuck you even harder with his fingers.
When you fall back exhausted, Halsin sits up and spreads your thighs open, trailing his fingers over your sex and drinking in the sight of you as you catch your breath. ‘Your body is wondrous.’ He leans over and kisses you, his tongue caressing yours. ‘Will you rest well tonight?’
You nod, feeling drunk from his kiss and your climax.
He smiles. ‘Then I’ll rest well too, knowing that you’re sleeping soundly. Thank you for sharing this beautiful moment with me.’
As he sits up, you notice that he’s hard inside his tight pants. Excessively hard. Huge in fact. He shouldn’t be leaving, he should be pulling off his clothes and pounding the living daylights out of you until he also gets the release he needs.
But he’s gone before you can call him back to you. That’s not why he just blew your mind, was it? He healed you, and now he wants you to get some rest. Druid’s orders, apparently.
You smile and roll over, and fall into a doze.
***
The next morning, before anyone has arisen, Halsin finds you coming back from the river. You smile at him, thinking he looks so handsome in the morning light, and you expect him to keep moving past you. Instead, he stops and smiles at you, as if basking in the sight of you is all he wants right now.
‘May I have a kiss?’ you ask hopefully. Perhaps he’s decided not to want anything for himself right now, but he still wants to make you happy.
Without needing to be asked twice, Halsin grasps you around the waist with his large hands and walks you back against the wall, kissing you enthusiastically. ‘I can still smell you on my fingers this morning. I could smell you all night. You are a delight.’
Your lips part for his so he can kiss you even deeper. With your arms around his neck, you revel in the sensation of his mouth on yours.
‘I find you irresistible.’ Another kiss. ‘But we have much to do today.’ Another kiss.
‘We do,’ you say, smiling as he kisses you again.
He gazes down at you for a moment, a slight frown between his brows. ‘If you need more, know that I won’t be offended if you take another lover. Nature intends for us to roam and be free.’
You have considered that, if not someone at camp, then a handsome stranger at a tavern, but you’d only be thinking about Halsin the whole time. ‘And if I don’t want to?’
‘You must do as pleases you,’ he replies, and kisses you again.
You guess that he didn’t tell you this for idle reasons, but to let you know about his own preferences. You reach up and stroke your fingers through his russet hair. ‘I have always wanted my own person, but to roam with them. Share everything with them. I would miss you too much if I was to roam without you.’
He smiles down at you. ‘Us, with others? I would like that, in time. You’re more than enough for me, but I wouldn’t wish for you to be denied anything. Seeing you with another lover, and participating as well...it sounds wonderful.’ Then he steps away from you. ‘But we are getting ahead of ourselves. My thoughts turn to other things for now. But they will turn back to you.’
With a final warm squeeze of your hand, he leaves you, but your heart is lighter than it’s been in a long time.
***
Two nights later, you’re awoken by snarling and roaring in the distance, and you sit bolt upright. It sounds like two large animals are fighting in the woods.
Only Astarion is awake. ‘What a ridiculous racket,’ he mutters with a scowl, before licking his thumb and turning the page of the book he’s reading.
You look over at Halsin’s pallet, knowing it’s going to be empty before you lay eyes on it, but your stomach drops just the same when you see that it is. You scramble to your feet and set off at a run into the darkness.
You follow the roaring and snarling and it doesn’t take long to find two bears fighting with teeth bared and swipes of their claws. You recognise Halsin from the scars over his eye.
What can you do to help him? A spell? A cantrip?
Before you can decide, Halsin swipes the other bear so hard across the snout that it reels back, and then turns and runs away into the woods.
Halsin paces up and down for a moment, and then golden light ripples, nearly blinding you, and when you open your eyes again, he’s striding toward you. His chest is heaving and blood is pouring from scratches and bites across his shoulders and throat. Nothing life threatening, but he’d be in pain if he wasn’t so angry.
‘That bear was looking for a mate, and I wasn’t having it prowling around her when I haven’t even tasted her myself.’
Halsin when he’s feeling himself wouldn’t say something so uncharacteristically possessive. It must be the mating season instincts overriding his natural feelings. ‘That bear wouldn’t have been interested in me.’ Also, you could have tasted me by now if you’d wanted to.
He doesn’t seem to have heard you as he glares into the darkness. Suddenly, he rounds on you. ‘It’s dangerous out here. You shouldn’t have come. Go back to bed.’
You fold your arms and stay where you are. The big alpha bear can throw his weight around, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to jump to obey his commands. ‘Shouldn’t have come? Would you have ignored me if I was being attacked in the woods?’
Halsin takes a deep breath and some of the anger melts from his face. He pushes his hands through his hair and shakes his head. ‘Of course not, I would never abandon you like that. Thank you for coming out here to help me. I promise I’m not ungrateful. I’m all out of sorts because...’ He gestures vaguely at himself and the woods around you both.
You smile at him. ‘I know. It’s mating season.’
You help him pick dirt and gravel out of his cuts before he casts healing magic on himself, but you’re not ready to leave him and go to bed. The river is close by and you take his hand and lead him to the water.
‘Let’s wash the blood and dirt off you.’
At the riverbank, hesitantly you reach for his clothes. He says nothing but he’s watching you with such intensity, and so you find the fastenings and help him out of them. With gentle fingers, he does the same for you. The night air is warm and still. Crickets are chirping and the river makes gentle rushing noises. The two of you are standing so close that you’re breathing each other’s breaths. His massive chest lifts and falls. Your nipples tighten with awareness of him. You don’t want to stare but you can’t help but look at this beautiful man as you undress him.
Halsin helps you out of your underwear, and his cock bumps against your thigh. He’s so hard that he’s standing to attention, his foreskin drawn back, a drop of pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters, and you want to run your tongue along the thick vein that stands out on his shaft.
‘Sorry. Ignore me,’ he mutters.
You don’t want to ignore the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen, but you keep your hands to yourself and look up at him. ‘I want to feel flattered. Should I feel flattered?’
‘You know I think you’re wonderful,’ he breathes, caressing your face.
Oh, by all the gods, then fuck me, please.
‘Would you want me even if it wasn’t mating season?’
‘Of course I would, though I’d probably be better at keeping that to myself. You wouldn’t awaken to hear me fighting other bears in the woods, or see me staring at you with longing across the campfire. I’d still feel the same way, but I wouldn’t be so obvious about it. Probably.’
‘Do you mind that mating season makes you feel and act this way?’
He smiles and shakes his head. ‘It is who I am, and another connection I have to nature.’
‘Halsin. For a wildshape druid who believes in going with what’s natural, you’re very stubborn about resisting what your body is telling you it wants.’
A smile curves his lips. ‘You may be right. I’ve told myself that focusing on the Shadow Curse is the right and only thing to do, but...’
Halsin ducks his head and slants his mouth over yours. The kiss is so fierce and sudden, and pleasure takes a swan dive through your body. He wraps his arms around you and gathers you to him.
‘This isn’t how I imagined things between us,’ he murmurs. ‘I intended to come to you after the curse is lifted and declare my feelings for you, and tell you that my unburdened heart is yours.’
‘Please still do that,’ you breathe, planting soft kisses again and again on his mouth. ‘I would love that. But don’t walk away from me now.’
‘You want me, even though my mind is often on things other than you?’
What a romantic Halsin is, wanting to give you his whole heart at once, or nothing at all. ‘Of course I do,’ you tell him, your fingers stroking his bare back. You don’t need that declaration yet. You just need him.
Halsin lifts you in his arms and carries you into the water, gazing into your eyes. The water flows around your bodies as he kisses you and places you on your feet.
He nods at something over your shoulder. ‘I have to taste you. Turn around and put your hands on that rock.’
You do as he asks, standing thighs-deep in the water and bent over with your hands braced against the river bank. Halsin kneels down in the water and cups your ass.
‘So beautiful...’ You feel his tongue run up your sex, and you moan and close your eyes. He’s slow and languorous about it. Not trying to make you come, just tasting you thoroughly and enjoying the sensation of you against his tongue.
Halsin stands up and when you glance over your shoulder you see him gazing at your sex as he strokes you with his fingers and fists his cock slowly up and down.
‘Can I have you, sweet one?’ he asks huskily.
‘Please, gods, yes .’ You’ll go crazy if he holds back a moment longer.
You feel him step closer, and the blunt head of his cock slides against your slippery entrance. He feels alarmingly thick and you take a deep breath and try to relax.
With a muttered oath, he sinks into you. As much of him as he can, anyway. Gods, he’s a lot . You walk your feet apart, trying to accommodate more of him.
‘Too much?’ he asks, hesitating.
You shake your head desperately. ‘Not too much. More, please.’
He fucks you slowly, working himself deeper by delicious increments, while your cries fill the night air along with his ragged breathing. His blunt nails scratch your flesh. He roughly squeezes handfuls of your ass.
You reach down between your legs and touch yourself, and you grow wetter and wetter, allowing him to fuck you in long, smooth strokes. Every single one makes your insides light up. Your orgasm is barrelling down on you surprisingly fast.
‘Please, fuck me hard, I’m going to come,’ you beg him.
Halsin groans and takes your hips in a secure grip and slams into you, over and over, hard, brutal and heavenly thrusts. You push against the rock to hold you steady as a wild, untamable sensation crashes over you, and you cry out loud enough for the whole forest to hear you.
Your head is hanging low and you’re panting as you feel Halsin draw out of you.
‘But you haven’t come,’ you protest, straightening up and turning around. It’s what you want, to see and feel this beautiful man let go.
He takes your hand and helps you out of the river. ‘I’m not done with you yet.’
He lays back on the grass and pulls you astride him so your thighs are straddling him. ‘I want to see you like this as well.’
Hungry for more, you grasp his cock and sink down his length. Halsin groans and his head tips back, and he squeezes both your breasts in his large hands. His throat is so beautiful, and so is his chest. You draw patterns in his chest hair as you move up and down his length.
Weeks of frustration and wanting him haven’t been fulfilled by one climax, and soon you feel another one gathering within you. He watches you with a smile as you desperately moan and pant his name. As your cries reach a crescendo, Halsin plants his feet securely against the ground and pushes sharply up into you, over and over, making you shatter around him even harder than before.
You collapse forward on his chest, weakened and helpless, his cock still lodged deep inside you.
‘That was wonderful,’ you moan, your cheek plastered against his chest. ‘Give me a moment and we can change positions. I’m not stopping until you come.’
He rubs circles on your back. ‘I think I might shift into wildshape if we keep going. I can feel the need getting stronger and stronger.’
‘I don’t mind. Your bear form is pretty sexy.’
He laughs softly, a surprised sound. ‘Really? I’m pleased you think so.’
Even sexier is the way he looks while he’s changing, his body even bulkier and hair sprouting everywhere. ‘Can you change part ways?’
His hand stops moving on your back as he considers this. ‘I can. I think it might be easier for me to maintain that, rather than one or the other.’
Halsin rolls you both over until you’re on your back in the grass and pinned beneath him. With a heavy hand on your inner thigh, he pushes your knees up to your chest and thrusts deeper, and then again.
‘By Silvanus, you feel wonderful,’ he pants.
A ripple goes through his body. His eyes turn fiercely golden. The hair thickens across his chest and spreads over his shoulders and down his arms. His top lip pulls back from his teeth, revealing thick incisors. His cock swells to what feels like twice its size inside you. You gaze at him in wonder. He looks incredible like this.
As he continues to pump his cock into you, you press your hands against his muscular, hairy stomach, struggling to accommodate all of him.
‘I’m hurting you,’ he realises, his voice more growl than words. ‘I can change back.’
‘No, don’t stop. Just slow down for a moment. It’s a good problem to have.’ You reach down to the place where you’re joined and wrap your fingers around his slippery thickness. Gods, that’s wonderful. So is his bulk looming over you and the rich, animal scent of his body. He thrusts carefully, watching you closely, his golden gaze roaming over you.
‘So beautiful, sweet one,’ he rumbles. ‘Are you sure you like me like this?’
‘Yes, oh gods, yes.’
With every thrust, it’s getting easier for him to slide his whole length deep inside you, and pleasure stabs through you every time he bottoms out.
You reach up and cup his furred cheek. ‘I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even sexier like this. How does it feel for you?’
He groans and seems to take courage from your words. ‘Like I’m finally free. No longer fighting what I crave.’ The speed of his thrusts pick up, and he devours you hungrily. ‘You’re so good to me.’
His breathing becomes a throaty snarl. His claws dig lovingly into your thigh. His hips move in a relentless rhythm, long thrusts, and then shorter, urgent ones, and you can tell he’s nearing his peak. You hold onto his shoulders for dear life as his body stiffens and his climax breaks through him, and he throws his head back.
With a groan, he sinks down onto his elbow and buries his face in your throat. As you hold him tight, you feel him shift back to his human form, his skin smooth and damp with perspiration.
Halsin lifts his head and kisses you. ‘I’ve never done anything like that before. Was it all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?’
You hasten to assure him that he didn’t and it was everything you wanted.
He smiles. ‘How wonderful you are.’
You stroke his sweaty hair back. Neither have I. You’re so beautiful always, and especially seeing you like that, through wildshape eyes.’
He rolls onto his side in the grass and wraps both his arms around you, keeping you tight against his chest. ‘I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. The world feels so much better now I have you in my arms.’
‘How long does mating season last?’ you ask. You hope it’s a long time, and he needs you often.
He laughs, a deep sound reverberating through his chest. ‘It’s every moment I lay eyes on you, sweet one.’
‘I hope that I haven’t distracted you from your duties.’
He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m more motivated than ever.’
You lay like that together in the grass until Halsin feels your cooling body shiver.
He helps you to your feet and draws you into his arms for one last, tender kiss. Cradling your face in his hands, he murmurs, ‘You are the person I admire most in the world. I feel honoured by every moment I spend by your side.’ He kisses you again. ‘Know that I can’t wait until I’m able to tell you that my whole heart is yours.’
Thank you so much for reading. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! Or tell me how the Halsin brainrot is affecting you while playing BG3. I have just about no braincells left by now. Only Daddy Bear remains.
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