#ascended astarion fanfiction

[moramaisis]

Characters: Ascended Astarion x Tav (Arsenia) Pairing: M/F Status: Happily evil together. Arsenia is a vampire bride. Keywords and warnings: Villain couple, dark humor, dark romance, dommy tav, heavy smut, biting, oral sex (m and f), penetrative sex, rough/gentle, humping, voyeurism (kinda but not secretly), threesome, unhinged horniness, gothic vibes, campiness? Summary: The vampire couple plans to rent a creepy old castle and meets the owner, who is a wealthy elf widow. The lady is acting very friendly to them and might have some ulterior motives. Their spawn is spotted by a vampire hunter and the couple must act fast to save him. Total word count: 21,057 I would happily post this fic here but i keep getting a warning from tumblr that i exceeded a character limit and nothing i do seems to let me post this. So, you have to go to my Ao3 to read it. Really sorry! No clue what to do. It's divided into two chapters and is part of a series. This story on Ao3 Previous story Ao3 This series on Ao3

[thepapernautilus]

the killing time, unwillingly mine. | ch 3 (ascendant!astarion/tav). 🗡️

the face of love's rage.

“You controlled me,” you hiss. It’s more of a whine—exhausted, tired, oft repeated over the course of a cruel, hard decade. “The once, my darling.” It caught you hard, all of a sudden, what you had been contemplating, the grave seriousness of what you’d thought necessary. Killing—really truly—killing your husband? He is so heartbreakingly beautiful all over again, the heartache of loneliness building into hunger low in your stomach. “And I haven’t done it again, have I?” He cocks his head. “My love. Do you remember when you used to call me that? Have I truly made you so miserable?”

or: an ending, if ever there is one. the unbroken cycle must go on.

17.6k, 3/3 chapters, completed.

⚠️Rape/Non-Con, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat 🪦🕊️, POV Second Person, Abusive Relationships, Extremely Dubious Consent, Posessive Behavior, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Emotional Manipulation, Pet Names, Angst & Trauma, Hair-Pullling, A Lot of Wedding Planning and Interior Decorating, Blood Drinking, Brief Tav/F!OC.

Posted on Archive Of Our Own.

[astarionfreak]

Exile (Or: How you learned to stay)

// Astarion (Ascended) / Reader (Fem!Durge) &

// Shadowheart / Reader (Fem!Durge)

You turned away from everyone after defeating the Netherbrain. You spiraled out of control. Then, at your very lowest, Astarion, the Vampire Ascendant, found you. You give him everything. But your heart still belongs to Shadowheart -- and Astarion will never let you go.

You kiss him like you need him. You grab him like you’re holding on for your life. He returns the favor. Your lips are moving against his, but you’re thinking about her. Her hands on your hips, not his. Her mouth on your lips. The way she whispered your name as you held each other in the dark. But she’s not here. He is. You have to forget.

18+ • NSFW • 22.6K words (6/?) | Read on AO3 (the first chapter is available below)

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Check the tags on AO3 for a full list of warnings.

Tags: Dark, Trauma, Abuse, Smut, Obsessive Behavior, Emotional Manipulation, Mind Control, Dubcon, Noncon, Unreliable Narrator, Torture, Somnophilia, Evil Astarion.

Chapter One: Run (and forget)

It’s pouring rain. You’re running. Your bare feet carry you over cobblestones, through alleyways — always in shadow. Never in the light.

Don’t let him see you. You can’t let him find you.

Your heart pounds. Your lungs ache. It’s raining. You’re running. You can’t remember why.

You only know you can’t stop.

Were those footsteps behind you? Do you dare turn your head? Your body keeps moving you forward. But your chest is burning now. The rain obscures your vision.

Is that blood? You lick your lower lip. It’s cracked and swollen. Did you fall? Were you hit?

You can’t remember. You can’t remember anything.

Keep running. Don’t stop. He’s right behind you.

The alley splits in two directions. You have to choose.

You turn right, nearly slipping as you careen around the corner — and find yourself up against a wall.

No. No. No.

You have to keep running.

You turn again — then you hear it — a man’s voice, right in your ear.

“You’re mine now, little bird.”

But there’s nobody there.

Run.

But your feet won’t move.

Run.

But there are fingers tangled in your hair.

Run.

Your head meets the pavement with a sickening crack.

You should have turned left.

The world goes black.

---

six months before you ran

You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the tavern window. A bruise, deep purple and black decorates the skin around your right eye. You can’t remember how you got it.

It doesn’t matter. Probably a bar fight. You’ve been drinking a lot lately. This isn’t even your first tavern of the night — at least, you don’t think it is.

Your memory is unreliable these days.

You push your way inside the tavern, through the crowd, and make your way up to the bar. You catch the barkeep’s attention and ask for the strongest drink they have.

“You’re one of them, right? One of the heroes?” The barkeep slides a mug your way.

“Hero. Yeah, I guess.” The word leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You dig in your pockets for payment.

They call you a hero, but you know the truth. You are a killer. A monster. Your father reclaimed his blood, but the darkness still festers in your veins. You’ll always be a Bhaalspawn.

“On the house,” the barkeep says.

“Thanks,” you mutter.

You take the drink and find the darkest corner of the tavern. You prefer to be alone these days.

This is your punishment for the countless atrocities you committed in your father’s honor. You can’t even remember the names of your victims, you can’t recall their faces — but they still haunt you.

The amber liquid burns as it slides down your throat. You drink to forget what you cannot remember.

You’ve almost emptied the mug when you feel eyes on you. Shifting in your seat, you scan the room. Nothing.

Nobody is paying you any mind.

You’ve been so paranoid lately.

You close your eyes and sigh. When you open them — he’s in the seat next to you.

“Astarion.” Your heart leaps up into your throat.

He reaches up and cups your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over the edge of the bruise. You wince, but not from the pressure — from the affection that you know you do not deserve.

“What happened to your eye?”

“I don’t know. Bar fight, probably.” You lean into his hand.

“You should ice it,” he says.

You notice now, just how warm his hand is.

“I used to be able to use your hands for that,” you say.

“Mm. Yes. Not anymore.” He drops his hand and smiles. His eyes never leave your face. It makes you dizzy.

“What are you doing here, Astarion?” you ask.

“I should be asking you that question, darling. This place is . . . beneath you.”

It’s been a month since you vanished from the docks without saying goodbye. You thought it would be easier this way. You were wrong.

In fact, you should have left the city by now, but you just couldn’t stomach abandoning your home. It’s as though something kept you here.

“I’m drinking,” you say.

“Yes. I can see that.” He’s judging you.

You down the rest of your drink and slide the empty mug to the middle of the table.

“Not leaving so soon? I’ve only just found you,” he says.

“I didn’t ask to be found.” You sway when you stand. You’ve had one too many.

Astarion stands when you do. His hands are on your hips, holding you steady.

You’re too drunk, too slow, to swat him away. Besides, as much as you hate to admit it, his touch feels nice.

You recall the last time someone touched you with such kindness. Shadowheart. The night before you tried to kill her in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. The night before your body betrayed you.

Your fingers twitched as you approached Shadowheart’s sleeping form. You wanted nothing more than to curl your fingers around her throat and squeeze the life from her lungs.

You shake your head as if trying to erase the memory. Your stomach lurches. Bile crawls up your throat.

You miss her. You don’t want to think about it.

“Why are you here, Astarion?” You ask.

He pulls you closer to him. One of his hands slides up your lower back, under your shirt. “Would you believe me if I said I missed you?”

Oddly enough. You do believe him. “I’d have to be a fool to believe that. You must want something from me.”

He smiles. It’s so sweet it makes you sick. You thought the ritual killed the man you knew. Maybe you were wrong.

“Walk me out?” you ask.

“It would be my pleasure.” He holds you with a firm grip now.

You definitely drank too much. The room is spinning. You lean into Astarion for support.

Gods. You’ve been so lonely.

You walked away from everything, everyone you knew, to protect them. To hide your shame after your —

No. You definitely don’t want to think about that.

But, Astarion. He doesn’t need anything from you. Maybe he can withstand any damage you inevitably cause just by being around him.

And, he’s here now. He’s holding you. You stumble out of the tavern and stop on the steps. It’s much quieter out here. You hope the brisk night air will help sober you up.

Astarion pulls you against his chest and wraps his arms around you. You shiver when his lips find the curve of your neck. He breathes you in.

You remember all the nights you let him feed. You swore to yourself it was to make him stronger, a better fighter. But your body betrayed your secrets. You both know exactly how it made you feel.

His breath tickles your neck when he whispers, “Why’d you have to fly away, little bird? You know I’ve missed you so.”

You slide a hand up between your bodies and push him away, just far enough to meet his eyes. You look up at him and smile.

“You caught me now, didn’t you?” This is a terrible idea. But the alcohol did not do its job this time. You still need to numb the loneliness that crawled into your heart and died there.

Besides, nobody else bothered. You thought you had friends. They didn’t go looking for you.

Shadowheart didn’t find you.

Astarion did.

“And, do I get a prize?” Astarion purrs.

Shadowheart woke up the night you tried to kill her. She tied you up. She stayed by your side all night. She would have remained by your side — but she saw you for what you are — evil, unlovable. So you left her. And she let you.

But, the way Astarion looks at you now. Like he would love you if you let him.

It’s . . . something.

“Yes. You get a prize.” You take his hand and drag him down the steps and around the corner into a dimly lit alley.

He follows you into the shadows. “I like where this is going,” he teases.

You wonder if you’ve ever killed anyone in this alley. You wonder if Astarion ever took a victim here.

You lean back against a brick wall and look up at him. He’s waiting for you to make the first move.

You can do that.

You can do this.

You fucked him once before. When you were still practically strangers. So much has changed since then. Neither of you are those people anymore.

You slide a hand to the back of his neck and pull him toward you. Your lips collide in a moment of desperation.

You kiss him like you need him. You grab him like you’re holding on for your life. He returns the favor.

Your lips are moving against his, but you’re thinking about her.

Her hands on your hips, not his. Her mouth on your lips. The way she whispered your name as you held each other in the dark.

But she’s not here. He is.

You have to forget.

He presses you against the wall and you roll your hips, testing him. The movement pulls a moan from his throat into your mouth.

You take his wrist and guide it up your shirt. It doesn’t take much enticing before his hand cups your breast — thumb bringing your nipple to a hard point.

You are pressed impossibly close to him as your hands explore each other’s bodies with fervor. He is a distraction from the ache in your chest.

She’s not here. He is.

You’ll use him to forget.

“Fuck me,” you whisper against his mouth.

He nips at your lower lip and pulls back. He bumps his forehead against yours. Have his eyes always been this dark?

“You’re drunk,” he says.

“Not that drunk.” The alley is spinning. He’s all you can see. “I just want to feel good. Make me feel good, Astarion. Please.”

He likes it when you beg. You remember that much.

Astarion laughs, and it stings. He rolls his hips and you can feel him, hard, beneath his trousers.

“Ask me again,” he demands.

“Fuck me, Astarion. Please.” You try to kiss him, but he leans away.

He grinds himself against you, harder this time. “No.”

You whimper and reach between your bodies, trying to undo his pants. “Please.”

He grabs your wrists and pins them to your sides. “No.”

But he’s still pressed so close to you.

You whine and throw your head back against the wall. His lips find your neck, pressing light kisses to your warm flesh. It gives you an idea.

“If you won’t fuck me, then bite me,” you say.

You feel the drag of his fangs.

“No,” he whispers against your skin.

He releases his grip on one of your wrists and slides a hand between your legs. The light contact is enough to drive you to insanity. You wonder if you’ve soaked through the fabric.

You close your eyes. For just a moment, the world dims. You feel him release you. When the lights come back on he’s holding your shoulders and looking into your eyes.

“Don’t you want my blood?” you slur.

“Of course I do,” he says.

“Then bite me. Make it hurt,” you say.

You’re too drunk to track his expression. His hand slides to the back of your neck. “I could never hurt you,” he purrs.

You’re so dizzy. Your heart is thrashing around in your chest. His eyes are on your throat. If he doesn’t want you, then nobody does.

“Then what good are you?” You struggle against his grip, but he’s far stronger than you. He holds you in place.

“Why do you want me to hurt you?” There is concern in his eyes.  You can’t tell if it’s real, or if it’s just part of the mask.

“I deserve it, don’t I?” You squirm, but he doesn’t let you go.

“Did our little adventure teach you nothing?” He bumps his forehead against yours again. You will drown in his eyes if you aren’t careful.

“It showed me what I can have. I lost everything, Astarion. My friends, my . . . “

You’re drunk. You’re dizzy. You haven’t told anyone this. You shouldn’t tell him. But the words are already in your mouth, and they threaten to spill from your lips.

“Your what?” He holds you steady. “What else did you lose?”

Before your brain was ruined, before all of this — you were a sight to behold. You killed without mercy or shame. Your heart pumped a deep magic through your veins. The power over blood. Something you kept secret. But it was yours.

You felt the magic in you die when the tadpole was removed. Now, you have nothing.

You are alone.

Well, you were alone.

Astarion is here now.

“I haven’t told anyone . . .”

“You can trust me,” he whispers. There is no trace of venom in his voice. Your gaze stays locked with his. “We saved the city together. I can help you. Tell me what you lost.”

Tears burn in the corners of your eyes. You shouldn’t say this. You wouldn’t say this. Maybe it’s the alcohol? Honesty will be the death of you.

“My power, Astarion. It’s gone.”

You’re crying now. Silent tears break free of your eyes and roll down your cheeks. You don’t know the last time you cried. Maybe never.

He pulls you into his arms and presses your face against his chest. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Pressed this close to his chest you hear his heart. You can feel the power in his blood. Another reminder of what you lost.

Was he always this sweet? It’s disgusting. You taste bile. Your tears will stain his expensive doublet.

You’re not sure how much time passes before you pull away and wipe your tears. You avoid his face.

You can’t look at him, not when you’ve been this vulnerable. Fucking alcohol. It would have been so much simpler if he’d just fucked you and fed. At least that was an exchange you understood.

Astarion grabs your chin with two fingers and turns your head. You continue to avoid his eyes.

“Look at me,” he says softly.

You sigh and give in.

“Come home with me,” he whispers.

You’re not sure why, but you nod. “Okay.”

Read the next chapter on AO3.

[sakialumei]

Chapters: 2/23 Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Astarion/Tav (Baldur's Gate), Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Vampire Ascendant Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Grieving Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Unhealthy Relationships, Toxic Co-Dependence, Forced Proximity, Power Dynamics, Eventual Smut, court intrigue, Political Intrigue, Lessons in Etiquette, Graphic Description, Graphic Violence, Torture, Graphic Depictions of Torture, He may be the most powerful vampire but he's also a toxic pathetic mess, Mentions of Dark Urge, Spoilers for Quest: The Urge | The Dark Urge Storyline (Baldur's Gate), Spoilers for Astarion Romance Route (Baldur's Gate), Beauty and the Beast Elements, Horror, Mystery Summary:

After escaping the tyrannical household of her father, runaway Lilith and her mother Taisia settle in the remote arcadia that is the barony of Rosefair, far from Baldur's Gate. Peace is disrupted when the once-abandoned Castle Rosefair suddenly is occupied by a new, mysterious lord: Astarion Ancunin. After she discovers his terrifying secret, Astarion extorts the runaway to assist him in his lordly duties and perhaps even help him rise to the power he always coveted. Meanwhile, Lilith vows to uncover the secrets of the Ascended Vampire and possibly even find a way to defeat him. That is, if he doesn't devour her body and soul first.

[brabblesblog]

A kiss, stolen in a moment away from the crowd.

Read up on what these two idiots are on about here:

Whither is thy beloved gone?

Remember ye not the former things.

Art by @pickled0ctopus

[nerdburritos]

I'm starving, darling

summary: you and Astarion decide to play a little game of hide and seek.

pairing: Astarion/f!Reader | Astarion/f!Tav rating: 18+ (MDNI) tags/warnings: blood drinking, explicit sexual content, porn with plot, predator/prey, smut, bodily fluids word count: 2.5k read on ao3: I'm starving, darling

a/n: english isn't my first language so please excuse any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors!

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"I'm home, my treasure." You slowly rose from sleep as these sweet words were whispered into your ear. You had no idea what time it was or when excatly he came home from one of his important meetings he now had on his schedule nearly ever other say since slowly taking over Baldurs Gate.

It started quietly, in the shadows. Getting invited to important political events wasn't hard now, you were the heroes of Baldurs Gate after all, the rest was fairly easy. Astarion slowly slipped into politics, barely noticeable at first - advising here and there, helping out and funding the restoration of the city. Now he sat in the High Council of Baldur's Gate, slowly filling the remaining seats with his people - his personal puppets, dancing just how he liked. No one noticed how influential he actually had become at first, until it was too late. He had slipped into every important part of Baldur's Gate - politics, finance, jurisdiction.

He was no merciless leader but people respected and feared him and that's all Astarion has ever wanted. The Ascended Vampire, a creature of night being able to walk in the blazing sun, enter homes uninvited and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh - most people didn't even dare to question him, it'd be foolish anyways.

You opened your eyes slightly, seeing Astarion towering over you on the bed, caging you in with his strong arms, the soft black, satin blankets clinging to your frame. He was still wearing his outfit from his earlier meeting - a black doublet with gold embroidery and matching slacks, gods how you loved that outfit on him.

"Good meeting?" you asked while slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close. Astarion immediately buried his head into your neck, breathing in your scent, placing gentle kisses over your collarbone.

"Mh-hm." he mumbled, still buried in your neck while he placed his hands on your waist, pulling yor body closer to him. "Such fools, all of them." Your gentle giggles were quickly interrupted by a moan as Astarion started to lick from your collarbone up to your ear, where he gently nibbled on your earlobe with his sharp fangs, making you shiver in anticipation - he was eager.

"How about some dessert?" Astarion whispered into your ear, making his way down your neck again, nibbling and kissing… he wanted to feed, obviously. You smirked, quite in the mood for riling him up a little.

"No." You simply said, grabbing his head and pulling him away from your neck. The look upon his face said it all - red eyes wide open in surprise, a mix of "what?" and "how dare you?" written all over his face.

"Oh, my love, your forget yourself. You're in no position to deny me. I know you want it, darling." Astarion whispered again in that deep, rumbling voice of his. You quicky jumped out of bed before he had a chance to pounce on you, making your way on the other side of the room, giggling like a little girl. Astarion smirked.

"Hmm, so you want to play a game, little love? Very well, I'll indulge you." He slowly unfastened the cufflinks on his doublet, sending you seductive looks - by the Nine Hells, this man was a vision. "So, how about this: you run and hide and I'll try to find and catch you. I'll give you a head start of 5 minutes, only within the palace, no gardens." He ran a hand trough his fluffy white curls and you nodded. "And when I catch you, you'll be all mine, like it's supposed to be." Astarions red eyes bore right into yours and you nodded. All his.

"Very well then, run off, my love. I'll see you soon." You immediately took off, running down the hall, figuring out where to hide. You knew the palace inside out but so did Astarion. You had to switch your hiding places after a certain time, that much was clear, you had to win! Astarion was a sore loser, so seeing the absolute disbelief on his face would be priceless. You suddenly heard the door of your shared bedroom shut in the distance, has it already been five minutes or was he cheating already?

You quickly hid in the old storage closet, it was fairly empty with the expetion of some old boxes and a few brooms, a bad hiding spot but it had to suffice for now. Astarion slowly made his way down the corridor, whisteling a gentle tune, already sure of his victory and thinking about all the delectable things he might do to you later. He continued to stroll down the corridor with his hands buried in the pockets of his slacks until he suddenly heard gentle movements from the laudry chamber next to him and smirked. How convenient. Sure it must be his little treasure inside, he ripped open the doors and stared right into the face of a shocked maid.

"Lord Ancunìn! How can I be of service?" she stuttered, right in the middle of folding the bedsheets, clearly not expecting his sudden appearance.

"Have you seen my consort, maid?" He snapped, already on edge. This was most embarrassing.

"I-i think Lady Ancunìn went further into the west wing, my Lord." Astarion slammed the door shut and made his way towards the west wing while you quietly removed yourself from the storage closet and headed into the opposite direction, quite sure of your victory but your inner celebration came to a quick halt as fast steps approached you. It was him but how? How did he know?

You quickly ran down the corridor and into Astarion's private study, the footsteps getting closer and closer. You were pretty sure that he used his vampiric powers to find you - that cheating bastard, he just couldn't bare to lose this silly, little game. The study didn't offer any good hiding spots either but you had no way out, Astarion was propably right behind you, you'd be running straight into his arms and you'd never hear the end of it. You slilently tucked yourself into a corner of the room, casting invisibilty just in time as the door swung open and Astarion stepped in, looking quite confused as the room appeared empty. He slowly shut the door, locking it - he knew you were still here.

"You can come out now, little love. There is nowhere to go." He chuckled, walking across the room and settling himself on the edge of his desk, leaning slightly back, waiting patiently - he knew the invisbility spell you propably casted was going to wear off soon. He proceeded to teasingly unbutton his doublet, eyes glancing across the room. By the gods, you wanted him but you were not ready to give up just yet, you still had about thirty seconds of invisibility left.

You quietly snuck to the door and teleported yourself out of the room - Astarion immediately noticed and ran after you, the doublet now open and his bare chest on full display. He saw you run across the corridor right in front of him as your invisibility slowly faded and let out a dark chuckle, he was enjoing this hunt massively. While your stamina was not bad, you were terribly aware that you could never outrun a Vampire, let alone an ascended one, Astarion was letting you get away with it, he was playing with you. You sprinted around the corner and came face to face with a wall, shit. You forgot that you closed off the entire wing that led down to the ritual chamber, only Astarion was able to enter and said Vampire was now right behind you, slowly getting closer and closer with a predatory smile.

"There you are, my little treat." You pressed your back against the wall, giving him a shy look, hoping you might get away with it. "Now, don't be coy." This was obviously not working, he seemed to be immunue to your charm so you had to beat him at his own game, that was your only hope now so you let him approach, playing the part of the poor, weak consort who just lost their silliy little game, his own damsel in the distress who needed a big, strong Vampire Lord to save her day. Astarion's protectiveness and his need to play your big, strong consort was a major turn-on for both of you. He loved to show off how powerful he was in comparison to you, knowing he could easily overpower but keep you safe anytime.

"Aww, don't pout." Astarion teased. "Don't you dare to give me an attitude now, my pet." He pressed you further into the wall, sure of his victory. You gave him a coy smile, placing your arms around his neck and Astarion was sure you were about to give in but you suddenly slipped down, crawling through his spreaded legs, freeing yourself and running away, laughing.

"Cheeky little pup." Astarion chuckled. "You want to play dirty? Fine, 'cause I love it dirty." He used his powers to teleport himself right in front of you, managing to elict a shocked gasp out of you.

"Cheater!" you yelled, ready to push him away but he immediatly grabbed your hands, pulling you into his naked chest.

"You're quite the insolent little pup today, my treasure." Astarion pushed you into the nearest wall, securing your arms above your head with one hand while the other made his way down your body, immediately cupping the sensitive spot between your legs - you let out a loud gasp. "My my, is this getting you all excited, my pet?" He leaned closer, whispering in your ear now. "Is this getting you all wet?" Astarion pushed his thigh between your legs, settling you down while still pressing you against the wall, making you whimper with need. He grabbed your hips and began moving them up and down his thigh, creating a dangerous friction between your legs and you let the most pathetic moan escape our mouth, Astarion laughed.

"Look at you, precious thing, you do want this." He gently nuzzled your neck, teasing the column of your throat with gentle kisses and the occasional suck while you continued to grind on his thigh, working yourself up more and more. Your sweet moans were nearly enough for him, he quickly freed himself from his slacks, giving his already hard cock a few gentle strokes while he continued to lick that delicious throat of yours. Your breath started to quicken, you were close and Astarion removed his thigh and pushed your dress up to your hips.

"By the Nine Hells…" he breathed as he saw your black thong, all lace, his absolute weakness. He deftly pushed the flimsy material to the side and ran a gentle finger through your folds, gathering some wetness before settling on your bundle of nerves, cicling it slowly.

"Oh Astarion…I'm gonna…" He immediately removed his fingers, one hand cupping your breast instead, gently teasing your hard nipple with firm, circling strokes of his thumb while the other one grabbed the base of your throat, applying gentle pressure, not enough to completly cut off your air supply but just enough to be noticeable.

"Oh no, my love, not yet." The hand teasing your breast moved downwards, grabbing his hard cock once more and slowly guiding himself closer to your aching pussy. He gently coated himself in your juices, letting the head run through your slit, teasing you and making you whine in anticipation before pushing just the tip inside of you. It took all of his strength not to take you hard and fast right now but he intended to drag this out, make you suffer.

"Astarion…fuck…." you whimpered, trying to move your hips closer to his, to slide him all the way inside but he kept you pressed against the wall.

"Tsk, tsk, good girls ask before they take what they want. You are my good girl, aren't you, precious?" he teased, gently cicling your clit with his thumb, biting his lower lip with his fangs on full diplay. You nodded vigorously. "Then tell me."

"Please…please, Astarion…"

"Please what, my love?"

"You've won! Please fuck me!"

"Well, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" He smirked arrogantly, placing gentle kisses on your neck again before finally sheathing his fangs into your throat and pushing his cock inside of you. Astarion moaned gently around your throat, sending shivers down your spine as he took generous gulps of your blood while pushing in and out of you at a tantalizing slow speed.

"That's a good girl." He felt your pussy flutter around him - gosh, the praise was really doing it for you and your blood began to taste even sweeter - your impending climax so close he could practically taste it.

"Fuck, you're being so good for me, my pet." Astarion took one more gulp before freeing his now blood-stained fangs from your neck, licking across the puncture marks to clean them. He now stared right into your eyes with his beautiful red ones, continuing his sweet, sweet praise while he slowly pushed in and out of you.

"You like that, don't you? The way my cock feels inside of you, like you were made for me." All you could do was moan and cling closer to him. "Fucking. Perfect." He slid out and pushed back in hard with every word, he was slowly losing control, getting closer and closer.

"Yes, my love, that's it." Astarion praised as he felt your pussy getting tighter. "Come for me." You saw stars as he started to tease your clit oh so gently once again and shattered around him. You felt yourself gushing, coating his cock with your release and blushed but Astarion seemed to quite enjoy it.

"Oh my pet, you've made such a mess for me, fuck…" His thrust were getting harder, sloppier, his breathing quickened. You placed your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer while resting your forehead on his, gently moaning.

"Please come inside me." You begged breathless, knowing this might send him over the edge. Saying that Astarion had a breeding kink might be far-feteched, he wasn't fond of children, he didn't even particularly like them, not to mention that a Vampire can't sire children, not even an ascended one but the thought of your pussy dripping with his release was enough. You pushed yur hips against his, helping him along and placed one of your hands on his defined chest, gently teasing his nipple.

"Oh fuck, little love, I'm gonna come…" Astarion's moan was the most beautiful thing on earth, you thought, you loved how vocal he was during sex, never above mentioning how good he felt or letting the occasional dirty talk slip in. Sex with Astarion was far from boring or vanilla. "Fuck." he nearly whimpered as he spilled inside you, his sloppy thrusts coming to a halt, his chest now pressed right on yours. You felt his hot breath on our neck as he buried is head into your shoulder, slowly coming down from his height.

You slipped your hands in his soft, white hair, slowly massaging his scalp and playing with his curls, feeling quite content and relaxed.

"Bath, my love?" he mumbled into your shoulder, already grabbing the back of your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms. You nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you down the corridor.

[libbybee]

TAKEN TO THE HILT — AA

◜pairing: astarion ⨯ fem!reader ◜rating: MDNI 18+ ┊ wc: 0.6K ◜cw: vampire ascendant, predator/prey, piv, rough vaginal sex, bite kink, bodily fluids, masochism, slaps, dirty talk, marking, overstimulation.

▹ summary. “you know you’re the only one i’ll ever have like this,” he snarled roughly, breath ragged. “this cunt exists to be fucked, marked, and claimed by me. no one else could ever do this to you.”

A/N. english isn't my native language, sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

AO3 ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ PLAYLIST

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Your ass slammed back to collide with his hips, skin grinding together, damp with sweat and layers of his semen, which had already marked you inside and out. Each brutal thrust buried him deeper; the stretch was almost unbearable, but you craved it. Every savage inch filling you right to his base was a torment you wanted to last forever. Your pussy throbbed around him, aching with need as he pounded into your cervix relentlessly, your womb aching for every hard push deeper and driving you to the edge just to pull back again.

Astarion was feral, a twisted predator claiming his prey. His nails dug mercilessly into your hips, dragging and tugging, leaving fiery, reddened marks with every drag until he felt certain you'd wear them for days. His crimson eyes glowed in the dim light, more dangerous than ever as he stared at you, thirsty, his hunger overtaking him. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating to his senses, so rich in the air that he could taste it—a dizzying mix of your lust and his own. He could smell it on your skin and feel it in the way you squirmed beneath him and how your pussy was drooling for him. It drove him wild, more insatiable than ever. He couldn’t get enough of you—he needed more; every sharp slap on your ass was a reminder of his claim, evident not just in his hands and words but in the ferociously, almost animalistic way he rutted into you to fuck.

Your cunt was shamelessly dripping, impossibly wet with a sticky mix of your own juices and his, spilling and slicking down your thighs. Every time his balls slammed against your puffy clit, another obscene squelch echoed through the room. The sound was enough to make you flush and mewl, as it was another reminder of how fucked you were and how much you needed him. A deep growl rumbled in his chest as he leaned in close, his lips and breath hot against your ear. “You know you’re the only one I’ll ever have like this,” he snarled roughly, breath ragged. “This cunt exists to be fucked, marked, and claimed by me. No one else could ever do this to you.”

The words, the cold intensity in his voice, sent your head spinning, your entire body shaking. You could barely form a sentence, your lips trembling, every nerve alight as you choked out your own needy words. “I'm yours… All of me belongs to you, Astarion… my pussy, my body, everything…” It was a desperate confession, a cried plea broken by your own gasps and whimpers. Your fingers gripped the sheets tightly, digging your nails into the fabric as he ravaged you, finding your neck with his mouth to trace hungry slides with his tongue along your skin.

He didn't just kiss you—he bit you. His fangs sank deep into the soft curve of your neck, a sharp, cruel bite that made you cry out and writhe beneath him while your legs opened wider for him. It was a claim, an undeniable mark of ownership, and his teeth scraped against your flesh as he fed on the moment. The sharp sting of his bite sent a wave of heat flooding through your entire body, mixing with the pleasure he forcefully made your pussy receive and making your walls contract around him.

Each savage thrust pulled a new sound from your lips, each movement sending you higher. His weight pressed you into the bed, pinning you down, and you could feel how crudely his cock effortlessly slid in and out from your aching walls. Harder, faster, and punishing—the wet, obscene sound of his cock slamming into your drenched cunt echoed through the room just like your desperate cries of pain and pleasure. The heat between you was maddening; the way his hums of delight vibrated through your skin, making your body throb with need. You were his, completely. Every shudder, every desperate cry, every tremble was a tribute to him as he fucked you with the kind of ferocity that left you broken and begging for more.

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[deadly-diminuendo]

The Ascendant Takes a Bride

an ascended astarion x fem!reader oneshot / nsfw / ~4.4k words

Summary: Just as you and your family are about to fall into ruin, you agree to marry the mysterious Astarion Ancunín in exchange for his promise to pay off all your debts. Attractive and charming though he is, you cannot help but to feel nervous about your arrangement. Some say he is a vampire. You have seen evidence that both supports and counters that claim. You are not sure what to believe. Finally you find yourself alone with him on your wedding night—and Astarion has some unexpected surprises in store for you.

CW/Tags: breeding kink, wedding night, loss of virginity, vampire bites/blood drinking, piv sex, fingering, post-game

Read on AO3

Or read below...

Your husband lifts you across the threshold, tearing you from the comfortable life you knew and thrusting you into a fate unknown, a fate you hope will be kind but fear will be grim.

You did what you had to do. Your family would either flourish or it would fall, and you knew your willingness to marry Astarion Ancunín would make all the difference. Why accept utter ruination when you could instead ensure the prosperity of everyone you love?

Ill fortune plagued your clan for decades—dwindling wealth, diminishing influence, a decaying estate—there was almost nothing left. Poverty was no longer a distant nightmare but an imminent reality. Your parents prayed you might escape its chokehold with a prudent match, but without a single gold coin for your dowry, your prospects for marriage were dire.

When almost all hope was lost the unlikely offer came—the affluent and prestigious owner of the castle on the hill would be willing to pay off all debts and restore your household to its former glory—if only you would agree to become his bride.

The proposal shocked you. You had been introduced to the enigmatic pale elf, but he was far from a man you knew well. Your acquaintanceship amounted to no more than a few polite but empty conversations and the occasional twirl about a dance floor. Then again you did notice how his gaze tended to follow you about the room, and you could never help but to regard him with an equally curious eye.

You were both attracted to and intimidated by him. The gods themselves could not have crafted a more beautiful man, and yet… something about him unsettled you. His grip a little too tight, his smile not quite sincere. He gave you the distinct impression of a scoundrel only pretending to be a gentleman.

And you had heard whisperings about him. They say he is a vampire. A devious, ruthless, heartless man who subsists on the blood of his enemies.

Still you were intrigued. You spent more time than you care to admit constructing and revising his biography in your mind, attempting to, but never succeeding in unravelling all his mysteries. The red irises and the sharp canines certainly supported the local gossip. Yet you’d seen him in broad daylight. You’d seen him eat real food. You’d felt the heat of his skin every time you’d danced together.

Surely the rumours could not be true.

You had a choice to make. Suddenly you possessed the power to save your whole family. Everything—everyone—depended on you and you alone.

So of course you said yes.

Determined as you were, you could never fully exorcise your doubts. Instead you chose to ignore them, to focus on all the good that could come from this arrangement. Your troubles would be over. Your family would live well. You would want for nothing.

Not to mention it was surprisingly easy to picture yourself in his bed.

But those doubts you buried did not lie dormant. Oh, no. They crept and crawled beneath your skin, festering and mutating into a dread that now threatens to consume you whole.

You cannot help but wonder: are you a saviour or a sacrificial lamb?

Either way it is far too late for second thoughts. Today you vowed yourself to Astarion. You promised him your body, your heart, your soul.

You are his wife.

Every part of you tingles with nervous energy—the expected wedding night jitters greatly exacerbated by the misgivings you feel concerning your new husband—and yet you cannot deny the thrill underlying it all.

The way he kissed you at the altar was downright sinful. The way he whispered his desire in your ear made you shiver. The way he held your hips tight against his as you danced left you weak in the knees.

He frightens you, and excites you, and—gods help you—you want him to fuck you.

You thought he might throw you on the bed and make you well and truly his the very second you were alone together. Instead he sets you down with care, ensuring you find your footing despite the bulk of your billowing skirts.

You manage a brief survey of the room—a canopy bed draped in scarlet silk, a plush loveseat in front of the fireplace, high-vaulted windows welcoming in the starlight—and as excessive as it all is in its extravagance, you find it cozy. Romantic, even. A place that might yet become your personal paradise.

Or your gilded cage. You shudder.

Your gaze falls upon the object nearest you: an ornate full-length mirror. You almost fail to recognize the woman you see staring back at you. You are the very picture of fairytale whimsy in your intricate ivory lace and your crown of white roses. You smile. To hells with your unwelcome anxiety. This is your wedding night, and you will enjoy every minute of it.

Or at least you will try.

Astarion’s reflection closes in behind yours, and you find yourself rather relieved to see that he has one. Another strike against the rumours.

You admire him in the looking glass. High cheekbones, enticing lips, bewitching eyes. Even his so-called flaws, all his wrinkles and his laugh lines, suit him to perfection.

And he admires you right back—more shamelessly than you do him—hungry eyes mentally peeling off your dress as they rake you over.

“My beautiful bride.” You melt under his simple yet sultry praise, your imagination running wild with fantasies of what bliss the coming hours might bring. You know little of carnal pleasure but your own touch. By the end of this night you are sure to know much, much more.

His hands sweep across your shoulders, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your little capped sleeves. In the mirror you catch a flash of that devious smirk, the one that hints at the rogue you think he truly is.

“Almost a shame that I have to undress you.”

Your mouth runs dry, any words you might have said forever lost in the silence.

You do want this. You want to make love to your husband. You want to learn to love him in every sense of the word.

You want to trust him.

But can you?

“May I?” he asks, one hand travelling down to the laces at your back, the other hand enclosing yours in his. Feigning chivalry all while his firm grip screams out his barely suppressed urge to tear your gown from your flesh and pin you hard against the wall.

This is it. There is no going back now. You passed the point of no return hours before, your fate sealed with two little words: “I do.”

He wants you.

And so you will let him have you.

“Yes.”

With that, his fingers thread through your laces, pulling them loose with alarmingly efficient speed. Quite the expert he must be. You have, after all, heard talk of his rakish ways. Those rumours are much easier for you to believe.

You feel your bodice loosening, though your struggle to breathe persists, the weight of this moment somehow heavier than the mass of your dress. You gather your courage to do your part, tugging off your sleeves and letting the fabric fall away from your skin, pushing what remains down over your hips. Astarion takes your hand as you step out and away from your unwieldy gown, kicking it unceremoniously into a corner. The second it is out of the way, he pulls you back in front of the mirror with a force that makes you gasp.

“Look at you,” he says, and you glance at your reflection. You are bare before him save for what hides beneath your lacy smallclothes. “You are exquisite, darling.”

His fingers dig into your skin, seeking all your soft and sensitive places, your body beautifully pliable under his exploratory touch. He gives ample attention to the delicate curve from your waist to your hips, and to the lovely heft of your breasts, squeezing and kneading and molding you to his liking. You watch, mesmerized, the self-consciousness that might have held you back fading away. His thumbs repeatedly ghost across your nipples, soft lips nuzzling your neck as he grows hard against your backside—and, gods, your cunt aches for him. Not even the graze of his sharp teeth, suspect as it is, could dissuade you now.

Lust obliterates what was left of your modesty as sweet sounds spill forth from your parted lips. Already you are falling apart in his arms and he has not yet once stroked you between your legs. “Please…” you hear yourself beg.

He laughs. It’s a hearty, almost mocking sound, but you are too far gone to mind. “You will have to be more specific, I’m afraid.” As if he could not guess. Both of you know exactly what you want. “Use your words, pet.”

“Please touch me.”

Insufficient.

“Make love to me.”

Much better.

And there is one other little thing you should tell him.

“Like no one before you ever has.”

There it is, that devilish, devastatingly sexy grin. He is pleased. Maybe a little too pleased. You again note the pointed tips of his canines, and you expect, one way or another, you will soon be devoured.

“Oh, my sweet little virgin,” he purrs, hands slipping off your smallclothes, a finger dipping inside your slick heat. Hells. A relief sublime and yet nowhere near enough. “You have been so, so patient for me, haven’t you?” Patient is the last thing you feel right now as you arch into his touch, desperate for more friction, more pleasure, more Astarion. “Rest assured, my little love. I will reward you well. Grant you your every desire. Of course, I expect all I want in return.”

“Anything,” you cry, and you mean it. You waste no time contemplating the meaning of his words, nor your own. You just want to be fucked.

“Anything?” You nod and he smirks, increasing the pressure and pace as he inserts a second finger, holding you steady as you squirm. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? All these years you saved yourself for my bed, and you didn’t even know it, did you?”

Should you be answering with a nod or a shake of the head now? You are no longer sure, your mind incapable of thought beyond imagining how glorious your orgasm will feel when he grants it to you. You eventually decide upon nodding, and you hear him chuckle.

“Adorable. The way you look, the way you sound—” He nibbles at your neck, then breathes into your ear. “And I bet you taste just as sweet.”

Your blood chills at the thought of him tasting it. A shiver runs down your spine.

No… Surely he speaks of something pleasurable. Something you have heard other young women gush and giggle about. Something you would like to experience for yourself. You let passion burn your needless worry away, writhing about as you refocus on release, your eyelids fluttering closed.

The next thing you know his hand is clutching your neck. “Watch.” You immediately obey his growled command, your eyes locking upon your own reflection, all flushed and disheveled. Gods, you look positively ravaged and you have yet to even take his cock. You glimpse his smile, a sure sign he is thoroughly enjoying the utter mess he is making of you.

“This pretty body of yours was meant to be mine, wasn’t it, pet?”

This time you know just what your answer should be. You nod furiously and he moves deliciously faster. It won’t be long now.

“Oh, and I assure you I will put it to excellent use.”

You nod again. You are certain he will. You keen as his fingers curl into you.

He grins. He knows he has you now.

“My, what an eager thing. You will be the perfect little vessel for me, won’t you?”

You agree. You would give him anything. As long as he takes care of you, too.

And he will take care of you, won’t he?

“A vessel to take my pleasure in whenever, wherever, however I want?”

You will. Gods, you will. You moan out your assent and punctuate it with his name. You will spend your life parting your mouth, spreading your legs, offering your body to fill and to fuck as he pleases. As long as he makes you come, too.

And he is about to make you…

“And to carry my children?”

You surrender to ecstasy as it wracks you senseless, clenching violently around his fingers and singing out your instinctive answer with ardour. “Yes!”

Only as the pleasure subsides do you begin to think things through.

What did he just say? What did you just say?

You knew this topic would come up eventually. It is an inescapable expectation among the nobility—sometimes unspoken, sometimes spoken very loudly—but always present either way. And yet the last thing you expected was for Astarion to speak of children right on the cusp of your consummation. You thought you would at least first get to know each other as lovers and partners before ever considering becoming parents.

Your state of shock does not discourage him. Instead he smiles wickedly as he gives your hardened nipple a pinch, sending another jolt of desire straight to your cunt. He begins rubbing your clit again, making you mewl, only to leave you whining when he withdraws. He leaves a trail of your own slick along your skin as his hand slides up to rest at your lower abdomen.

“Oh, my sweet love. I can already imagine how gorgeous you will look swollen with my child. You do want to give me a child, don’t you?”

You stare in silence though you have to admit it is not an unwelcome idea.

“You will let me come inside you, won’t you?”

Gods. Now that is an idea you welcome gladly. Something innate, something deeply ingrained within your core cries out your need. You crave it, crave to let him spill his seed inside you. You wriggle about in his arms as you picture it.

Motherhood just might suit you.

Astarion spins you around and you gaze into those stunningly hypnotic eyes. You press a hand to his chest and discover that his heart beats just like yours, its steady, strong tempo dismantling your lingering doubt. A mortal. Like you. 

“I can tell you want this, darling,” he says. Perhaps you do. “Your heart races at the thought. Give yourself to destiny. Give yourself to me.”

Only one answer comes to your mind.

“Yes.”

He captures your lips in a kiss that ignites your lust and kindles your affection. His arms feel like home. Like you have always belonged to him and you always will.

You need him now.

You only manage to undo a single button of his overcoat before he lifts you off the floor and lays you atop the silk and softness of his bed. Your bed, you realize. You imagine spending many endless nights together here in a tangle of limbs.

He stands there stripping himself as you lie and watch with rapt attention, and yet you hardly know where to look—his beautiful eyes bore into you with intense hunger, his deft hands work effortlessly through his every layer, his newly bared skin tempts and tantalizes you—every part of him competes for your admiration. When he finally pulls off his smallclothes your eyes are instantly drawn to his cock, thick and flaunting his desire. On instinct you part your legs.

The sight of you splayed in invitation lures Astarion onto the bed and over you, arms and legs caging you in, lips colliding with yours, cock ready at your entrance. You roll up your hips to tease him, your lack of patience testing what little remains of his.

Your little nudge is all it takes to make the last of it crumble and he crashes into you.

You wince at the initial tinge of pain. It passes in seconds, dulled by your arousal, and you are thankful for the mercy. You succumb to the pleasure of him stretching and sinking into you, your body eager to accept the whole of him as he slides deeper inside.

“Easy, darling. I promise a little pain is worth all the pleasure.” He gives you the soothing coos and slow movements of a gentle and cautious lover—a part he plays well, you would think, if not for the tension you detect coiled in his muscles. You recognize he is a man struggling to hold back, and that epiphany has your cunt clenching around him.

Emboldened by your obvious want, he starts to fuck into you in earnest, pushing in and pulling back in a rhythm you already know will be your new addiction. At first you try to match every intoxicating motion, pushing your hips upwards to meet him thrust for thrust, but instead you find yourself squirming wildly, only able to pet him as he works. You relish the sound of his grunts and groans, how they signal his enjoyment of you, though you know you are drowning them out with your wanton moans. He does look far too in command of himself for your liking, and in your mind you set yourself a goal: you will learn how to make him relinquish that tight control.

Of course, if Astarion wants to focus on your pleasure—well, you certainly will not complain about that. If nothing else, your husband is proving to be a generous lover.

You reach up for a kiss, eliciting from him a growl that rumbles down your throat as you taste his tongue. Never have you felt this close to another person, and you long to get even closer. You touch his face, his chest, his shoulders, wanting to explore every inch of his skin as you take every inch of his cock. When you throw your arms around his back, the scars your fingertips find there briefly distract you, but you quickly decide that is a story for another time.

Experimenting a little, you pull your legs back and angle your hips, the slight adjustment to your position an even better fit than you thought possible. You squeal when he presses into a delightfully sensitive spot—and so he does it again, and again, and again, repeatedly, rigorously, relentlessly. You concentrate hard on your impending climax, your mind conjuring up an image of him filling you to the brim with come night after night.

“You are mine. Mine to treasure. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed.”

That delicious thought sends your walls spasming, your mind shattering, your entire body pulsing with incomprehensible bliss. His name bursts from your lips as you ride out the sensation, and it pleases you to know you will be calling it out the rest of your life. You have never felt better.

Still you wanted him to join you in your freefall over the edge and you cannot help the twinge of disappointment you feel when you realize he did not finish with you.

Not that you mind continuing to indulge in your favourite new activity.

He stills a moment and you stare up at him, confused, concerned, even. “I would like to try… a little something else. Take a little more from you. That is if my dearest little love would be so good as to oblige me.” You cannot imagine what he means. You must look utterly baffled because he then chuckles and asks, “Do you trust me?”

“I would trust you with anything.” The words slip out automatically and yet they come as a surprise to you. He is your husband, yes. But you barely know him. You thought you were done questioning this, but a shadow of doubt creeps back in. Something in his tone you do not like. Honey laced with poison.

Is one night of passionate sex really enough to found your trust on?

You decide it is a good start at least, and brush off the invasive thought.

He grins and turns you around, his hands all over you again, his lips planting kisses along your back, your shoulders, your neck. You let out a contented sigh.

A sharp, searing pain rips through you. You grimace. In your hysteria you imagine daggers embedded in your neck. And then it hits you.

Fangs.

You married a vampire. You let him fuck you. You let him bite you.

The first shock subsides, leaving a throbbing numbness in its wake, blood rushing out of your veins and into his greedy mouth. You should be screaming in horror, planning your escape, forsaking your vows in hopes of a return to a normal life. Instead you lean back, pliant and willing, nestling yourself against him as he holds you in his fierce embrace.

You have never known such peril and yet in the cradle of his arms you feel… safe. 

You should not feel safe.

“Sweet hells,” he rasps when he stops, lapping at your wound one last time. “I have not tasted something so delectable in decades.”

This is madness. And yet a surge of pride swells in your heart at his praise. You do feel a little dizzy, a little weak—but still very much alive.

He pushes you to your knees and plunges back into you, a hand pressing you down as he fucks you into the mattress. You steal a little glance at him over your shoulder, meeting his eyes for only a second—but you will never forget their eerie, unnatural glow. You bury your face in your pillow and shut your eyes. Perhaps it is better that you don’t look. That you don’t know.

So this is Astarion out of control.

You tremble in ecstasy and in fear, still shaken by the frightful revelation, and yet still yearning to merge and meld with him endlessly. Your body begs you to bend to his will, an echo of his voice reverberating in your mind. Succumb. Surrender. Submit. So you do. You could not deny him now even if you wanted to.

You let yourself moan with abandon as his length slams in and out of you. You revel in the divine new depth this position allows him to explore and the feral sounds he makes as he drives into you faster. Bucking against him, you find yourself shaking as you reach the precipice of your pleasure.

With every pump, each more erratic than the one before, you can sense Astarion losing more and more of himself in his frantic search for euphoria. When at last he finds it, cock twitching and pulsing against your walls as he spends himself inside you, you break apart again with a delighted cry. Your final thought as he fully empties into you is a question of how long it will be before you begin to grow round with his child.

When it is done, you lie panting beneath him, logic and reason beginning to clear your clouded mind. You become all too aware of his seed seeping out of you, and the dull pangs of pain in your punctured neck. How can you just accept all of this?

Astarion settles in beside you, and taking a tentative turn, you face him, eyes catching sight of the red trail trickling down from the corner of his mouth. Blood. Your blood. He casually wipes it away as if it were no more unusual than a little spilled wine. You shiver.

You know your shock must be written all over your face. “Come,” he says, and you listen, shifting your body closer to his and giving in to his gentle caresses. When he speaks again, his expression is soft, his voice smooth. You feel a touch more at ease.

“You were so, so brave for me tonight. You need not fear what I am, love. Besides—I need you mortal. Fertile.”

A deluge of questions and concerns flood your mind, and yet that last word sends a thrill through you that shakes you to your core, pushing your worries away. Already you want more of Astarion—you want him to cherish you, to worship your being, to bring you heaven again and again. You snuggle up against him, communicating your desire with a burning kiss. 

You will ask for answers someday.

But not tonight.

+++

Astarion likes to watch you.

Never has he seen a lovelier creature. You sit smiling down at the sweet baby bundled in your arms, the swell of a second child already beginning to show even through the layers of your dress. You have done your duty so beautifully well. Like he always knew you would.

He decided he would have you the moment he saw you. So like a love he lost ages ago and yet her superior in every way. The defiance he recalled and resented had long been bred out of your line, replaced with a demurity and a domesticity that made you ideally suited to your purpose. You could not be any more perfect for him.

And so he made it his mission to make you his. No doubt he could simply charm you into bed, but it was not enough to make you want him. He had to make you need him. The fools in your family had already made much progress in that regard without his interference, but the pull of a string here and there ensured your desperation.

And of course he made every claim on you he could. He wedded you. He was the first and the only to bed you. And he impregnated you so very easily. It was like you were made to be bred. What better way to declare to the world that you are his and his alone?

Your beautiful brood of children will strengthen his reign, infiltrate and influence every powerful organization, spread the Ancunín name throughout the city and the whole world. And the nobility does like a lord to have his heirs—even if an immortal will never need a replacement.

He watches as you look up. You notice him and give him that pretty smile.

You have given him so much. Even love. In him you have awakened an affection he thought he might never feel again. That he did not even know he needed.

You complete him.

He smiles back at you.

There is only one claim left on you to make, one that will come years from now, when the time of child-bearing is behind you.

To make you his bride for all eternity.

Thank you for reading!

My AO3 | My Masterlist

[pursuitseternal]

“Release Me:” ⛓️ Chains and feral smut ⛓️ for “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader |E| 2K

“Chains” prompt for Ascended Astarion Week

Summary: After weeks of captivity and starvation, you finally rescue your love from his enemies. But the beast chained in the cell barely knows himself or you… until you’ve satisfied all his hungers.

CW: Blood kink (I just wanted a reason to have them fuck covered in blood), Feral/primal play, desperate sex, long nailed AA, prison sex, bondage/mild BDSM

Ao3 link | Astarion Fic Masterlist

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Musty, dark, dead. The bowels of the Red Wizard’s tower are worse than a dungeon. Not a speck of light, no slight hint of breeze. It is a tomb. A coffin. And inside somewhere is your love.

You can feel him, his blood calling to you, even as his mind has unraveled these long weeks of capture. You get fleeting images of his senses: the wide-eyed fear in his chest to be imprisoned in the dark. Away from his beloved sun. The racing pant of his breath to be so enclosed, not unlike that year he never speaks of under Cazador’s torment. Locked away. You feel the stinging of silver chains gnawing at his flesh, burning just enough to sap his strength, but not so strong as to kill him.

This was meant for pain, constructed for punishment, to hold him until his enemies would kill him. Your beloved. Your lord and king and master, overthrown by his foolish need for more power. You told him not to go alone to seek the remnants of the Red Wizards of Thay… you warned him they would want their tome returned and would punish him for knowledge of it.

Even the decrepit remnants of a failed cult can win from time to time.

Your chest burns as you try to catch your breath, your skin and armor slick with the blood of your enemies. But your feet propel forward regardless, pulled by the tether of your bond to Astarion.

You heave a sigh of relief to finally find the cells, thick black doors almost indecipherable in the darkness. A little daylight spell, and your eyes adjust to find a dozen doors carved from the bedrock of this damnable tower. The rattling of metal links, the rough snarls of breath grows louder as you close your eyes and follow the ragged beat of his ascended heart.

Hand shaking, you pull out a Knock spell scroll, a sigh of relief that your own Wizard companion of old had prepared you to take on these foes. Even as your fingers stick to the parchment, hands soaked in blood, you recite the word, and the edge of the cell door glows bright white for a moment.

Resonant, it creaks open on its ancient hinges, revealing a pair of glowing red eyes and the crescendo of dry-throated breath. His body drags across the floor towards your daylight, and your heart bursts with ache to finally see him again. Tears sting your eyes.

Paperwhite and beyond deathly pale, his gaunt face leers at you from the darkness. Lines of red, of raw flesh cross his neck and bare arms and legs where he has been chained.

Chained naked.

Your bile rises in your stomach as you curse his captors souls, glad you have already put those Wizards to a bloody, eviscerating death. You’d do it all again, just to punish them for how they’ve tortured your love. Breathing his name, you enter his cell, the walls of black stone absorbing the light of your spell, it seems. But it gives off enough for you to see every line of his hollowed face, every crest of his bony frame.

Astarion twists against his chains, his mind a pulsing mess of feelings and words, too feral to even speak yet. But one word comes across clearly.

Blood.

His nostrils flare, his tongue dangling over his fangs as he scans your spattered armor. A predator with the scent of prey in his nose.

There’s blood in the air…

He’s too hungry, too starved for blood and for you to be safe. Not with they way his eyes are wild and his tongue laps at his jaw. “Astarion,” you speak, making his black-blown eyes focus on you. “I’m here my love,” you reach a hand out to caress his silver hair, but he just snaps his fangs at you once you're in reach. Those silver chains holding him just shy of disaster.

“Naughty,” you try to chide him, but the humor is lost on his hungry body and soul. Mind racing, your feet race faster, hands finding the closest fallen enemy to drag it back after you down the hall. Then you leave it, ignoring the muffled grunts and growls and slurps he makes as he drains the corpse completely.

When you glance back inside, he looks at you, steadier, calmer, and covered in blood. He still crouches on the ground, hands and feet and neck bound, but now he croaks your name. “Darling,” his voice pains you with recognition, “I knew you’d come.”

You hurry to his side, kicking that light, bloodless corpse to the side. The silver chains at his ankles sting you, but it’s nothing compared to the pain of separation you have endured for weeks. You pull the silver apart in your hands, freeing his legs so he can stretch them out at long last.

A deep grunt of relief sounds from his chest. Your hands work up and down one leg, then the other, trying to soothe the tension and numbness and blood flow.

As you reach the top of his thighs, you withdraw in surprise. His cock achingly hard, juts against his belly, twitching and pink and… happy to see you too.

“I have missed you,” his voice caresses your ear and rushes down your spine, the chains at his neck clinking their high-pitched music as he leans against you. Nose buried in your hair, he inhales your scent like a drowning man gasps for air. “I can’t wait another moment, my love.” His voice unearthly, barely more than a growl, his hands chained near his belly reach into your armor.

You notice his nails, literally clawing for you, seeking your flesh. Nails, so long unkempt, have taken on their wild form, the razor sharp talons of a vampire lord. “I was so worried…. I missed you, my love,” you sigh, an edge of fear in your belly as you long to kiss those bloodstained lips with your own. Ignoring the sting, you grab the silver chain, a little yank to tug at him, making a playful, aroused smirk turn his dripping, scarlet lips as his body draws closer.

“I am master of myself once more,” his brows cant rakishly, even in the dark. “I won’t bite unless you ask very… very… nicely,” he croons straining against your leash.

“Oh, I think you're asking for more than a nibble,” you tease to release some of the fear that still lingers in your veins. Never have you been separated from him since you turned, and never, not even during the Rite of Ascension and your fight against his old master have you feared his death more than these past weeks. Floodgates break, your need to touch him and taste him overpowering all logic and fear.

Your fingers work quickly, unlatching your breastplate and cuisses, eyes locked into his as he watches your every move, tongue licking the blood from the corner of his mouth absentmindedly. You let the metal clang to the floor. Those two restrained hands extend for you, making the chains around his arms hiss as the magic sears more into his flesh anew.

“Hold still,” you order, crouching to grab the chains and tug them free from his flesh, his wounds instantly closing up now that he is well-fed once more.

For all the pain that must be lancing through his body, he just holds your stare with his own, sultry and feral and commanding. “Now, where were we?” he purrs, hands trembling to finally touch your body. Even with sapped strength, he pulls you flush against him, bringing you close. Slotting you in your place against his body. Those blood-caked claws dig into the supple cover of your leathers, tearing through it at your hips and down the seams as though they are paper. You’ll worry about decency later, for now you’re of one mind, unable to think until you’ve joined again.

You sink your body onto his cock, and he sinks his fangs into your blood-spattered neck. Your groans bounce off the pitch black walls, a roar of bliss and relief and release. No more fear or danger, aside from the fear of coming too quickly and the danger of spending hours fucking once more, covered in the drying gore of your foes.

The thought tickles from your mind to his, and he laughs as he thrusts up into you. “Just like old times,” he rasps between swallows from your neck.

Like old times, like every time, your body follows its instincts, finally filled with what you have most craved. His cock stretches you, a nearly unfamiliar pressure once more, but you hardly notice, not with how dripping wet you’ve become just to feel his breath on your neck and savor his muscled frame thrusting into you.

Tears prick at your eyes but you won’t let them wash that blood from your cheeks. No, you just grip into his hair, pulling his mouth from the puncture wounds in your neck to your own waiting lips. The copper tang of your blood floods your mouth as his tongue sweeps inside, the familiar taste of your own blood mixing with the nasty pollution of your enemies’ he drained earlier.

It sours your stomach, the taste, but you’re too lost in the way his breath warms you, inside and out. Those long, feral nails score into your back, wandering quickly between your writhing bodies. With low, rumbling growls into your mouth, he grips your waist, moving you and holding you in place as he fucks harder. More erratic. More hellsbent on that release he needs.

His voice fills your ear, “My Consort, my love, my pet, my saviour,” he pours your beloved epithets over you, breath ragged and out of synch with his roughly snapping hips. One hand lies splayed on the stone behind him, that extra leverage driving him deeper with abandon. He’s thickening inside you, so hot and too quickly.

“Don’t get carried away,” you chide, yanking at the chain around his neck, making his crimson eyes stare at you with lust-blown pupils. “You haven’t even given me a reward yet for my daring bravery, my love.” You make him hiss, his slack mouth baring his fangs in pleasure-ridden pain. “And you haven’t even granted me an apology for running headlong into this… foolishness,” you cock your chin and tug his chain-leash again. “Promise me, no more ludicrous missions without me.”

He growls but nods, hands digging at your ass, not one hint of resistance.

“Then I’m satisfied, well…” you wriggle, clenching your walls on his throbbing cock inside you, “soon to be satisfied.” A laugh shared on both your panting lips, you ride his lap, bringing him back under a steady rhythm, drawing out his pleasure until you’ve had yours as well. He pulls against his last remaining chain, and you tut your tongue. One of your hands brings his fingers into the apex of your thighs, coaxing his finger to circle your clit with every buck. Your other hand releases that leash, freeing it from his flesh at last so you can grab his chin. Then you lick… long and cleansing, tasting the remnants of your blood, and your enemies’, and faint traces of his own.

That warm tip of his tongue laps at the corner of his lips, his breath heavy as he feels your walls fluttering around his cock. Spine arching, hips canting fervently, you scream for him, tears in your throat and down your face at last, as if you didn’t believe you’d ever be brought to orgasm by him again. Sharp nails score into the sensitive flesh of your folds, hips slamming into your last waves of pleasure as he spills inside you, spurt after spurt of his seed filling you and leaking to the prison floor beneath you both.

Crimson eyes glance up at you, wild and sated, hungry and happy all at once. “Get me home, my Consort,” he whispers. “You’ll be coming on my cock in our bed next.”

You smirk, breathless, pulling out a scroll to open a portal to your palace. As you stand, you kick the chains at your feet with your boot, thankful he’s released into your care once more.

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💞 to @marimosalad and @nyx-knox

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can I please request Astarion with a flirty yet oblivious plus size Tav? In the way that they do flirt because it's fun and light like their companions/friends with benefits thing, but they think that their feelings are unrequited (because of some slight insecurity about their size) until Astarion is like I actually like you and Tav is like '???' (Idk if that makes sense lol) Thank you!

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“So, Astarion, what is your actual type?”

“My ‘type’,” Astarion repeated at Shadowheart’s question as they traveled, “is such a broad prevue. I can’t think to narrow it down to just a single collection of words.”

“That’s a unique way to say you’re a trollop.”

Tav snickered at Shadowhearts retort, getting a stern glare from Astarion. “What? It was funny?”

“Pft. And here I was going to say you, my dear, but if you’re going to be so incredibly cruel.”

“Aw shucks. Always a bridesmaid I suppose.”

During their journey together, Tav had grown very fond of Astarion. He was a little shit, but deep down he was very funny and undeniably charming (although not for the ways he tried to be). The two of you had picked up a friendly banter over your time together, sometimes even flirty, but only that. And Tav was fine with that. Well aware that a handsome rake like Astarion could have his pick of the litter, and they were just happy to be considered a friend.

Later that night, while everyone was finishing their day and slinking off to bed, Astarion came over to Tav by the fire to sit with them. “You know I really meant it earlier by the way.”

“Meant what?” Tav asked. Lost, by this point, on what he was talking about.

“That you’re my….‘type’.” He seemed loathed to use the word. Even scrunched his nose. Tav just laughed.

“Yeah. Right. I’m sure.”

“No, really, I mean it.” He insisted.

“Come on Astarion, the only way you’d be interested in me is because I’m a a keg instead of a flagon.” Tav gestured to themselves and their full frame. “I have ample blood to spare.”

Astarion frowned. “Yes, your blood is certainly a bonus, but that isn’t why I care for you.” He huffed and crossed his arms dramatically. “Honestly, why does everyone think I’m not being serious when I am?” Astarion asked with a bit of flabbergast. “Is it something about my expression?”

Tav looked more than a bit flabbergasted at his remark. They didn’t really think they liked them….that way. Friends sure. Allies, of course. But romantically? “You…really have feelings for me?”

“Ugh! What is it with you new generation and wanting to put a name to everything?” Astarion bemoaned. “Feelings. Type. Can’t we just enjoy this for whatever…this is? All I know is that out of all the people in this whole wicked world I would want to be stuck with, it’s you.”

“Gee, that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” Tav teased.

Astarion frowned again, but then leaned in close to Tav so all they could see was his piercing red eyes. “I could wax poems for you, if you’d prefer. How your eyes are the stars. How your curves are roads I would never get tired of roaming. How your ample bosom feels like a place to call home. All true, but you’re so much more to me than that.” He moved back to sit in his original spot. Wrapping his arms around his knees at his chest as he looked into the fire. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted in…well ever. You mean more to me than just your body. Though, again, that is certainly a bonus. I had hoped….you feel the same about me.”

Tav blushed, but then quickly gathered their voice and told him, “yes! Of course.”

Astarion seemed relieved. Then leaned over to give Tav a simple, sweet peck on the cheek. “Good. Now, get some sleep. We’ll probably have a completely eventful day tomorrow as well. You’ll need your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course. I’ll keep watch until the morning.”

Tav smiled, blushed again, and then went to their bed roll. Tentative in accepting Astarion’s confession & feelings, but hopeful it was all true. Perhaps, for once, they could really be the bride instead of the bridesmaid.

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal

A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.

Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex

Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.

♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”

The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor. 

A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.

A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.

It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.

Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul. 

She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.

As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.

It is him.

And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.

“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.

Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins. 

“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.

“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck. 

A cold shudder shoots down her spine.

There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.

Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.

Love.

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”

His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.

That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.

The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end. 

Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.

Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other. 

Pop, pop, pop.

Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.

Finally comes Cazador's turn.

He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.

Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.

The Ascension… is complete.

The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak. 

He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.

Her lover is no more.

She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.

And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.

Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”

Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”

“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.

Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.

Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”

The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried. 

Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.

“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.

She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.

But that was long ago.

Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.

“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”

Tav’s pupils blow wide.

Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.

She will not rise to it.

“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”

With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”

Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.

“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”

Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.

“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.

Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.

“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…

His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.

In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.

Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.

“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.

Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”

His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.

Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.

“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.

“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”

“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”

Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.

Her mortality is a threat to his oath. 

Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”

Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.

Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.

Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.

“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.

Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”

Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.

This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well. 

“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”

His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.

“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”

“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.

With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.” 

His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.

Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.

A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.

With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.

“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.

It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.

Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.

Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.

“You can move,” she tells him meekly.

He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix. 

Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.

Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.

Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.

Just… having sex.

“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”

He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”

“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”

Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”

“I-”

Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.

“Astarion, I-” 

Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”

Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”

Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”

Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”

A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.

Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.

Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.

Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”

The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.

She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.

Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.

Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.

Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with. 

Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago. 

Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.

She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.

Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”

He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.

Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.

Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.

Tavaria.

The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.

Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.

“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”

Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”

Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.

Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.

Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.

They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.

The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.

-------------------------------------------

Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.

Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed. 

Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows. 

Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.

No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.

[moramaisis]

Characters: Ascended Astarion x Tav tiefling (Arsenia)

Pairing: M/F

Status: Happily evil together. Arsenia is Astarion's vampire bride. Keywords and warnings: Villain couple, dommy tav, heavy smut, biting, oral sex (m and f), rough/gentle, humping, dark humor, dark romance, unhinged horny women.

Gore & murder in the last chapter. This is horror smut with villains, so beware. If you watch horror movies you should fine.

Summary: Arsenia and Ascended Astarion are having a romantic moment in nature, when they are interrupted by robbers. Poor bastards have walked into a deadly trap without even knowing it. Arsenia decides to put up a show for her beloved vampire. A show that will be hard to forget.

Ao3

-----------------------

I find it especially funny that we're still stuck at camp. Astarion received Cazador's palace as his bloody inheritance, and yet here were are. In his tent. I do like it actually, the nature sounds are soothing, not to mention the smell of campfire smoke and the endless starry sky. I love the strong yellow cast of light that emits from live fire, our weary faces encircling the flame suddenly seem less dull.

Tonight, however, we're sitting away from the others. At the top of an old disintegrating tower, watching the tiny crescent moon. Astarion is sitting with his knees bent and i'm spooning him from behind. My arms envelop his shoulders and come to rest at his chest. I spread my legs to be as physically close as possible and so he's wedged between my thighs. His right hand is resting on my knee, gently caressing it with his thumb.

"So many things need to be changed once we move into that castle. The bats can stay, but someone has to become the designated poop scooper. Unless, you can train the bats to use a litter box."

Astarion's voice erupted in a trilling laughter.

"So that's why he kept so many fanatics! Cleaning shit and blood in hope of eternal life is a fate worse than death. But you're right. The palace is in need of a spring cleaning…and has been for a few hundred years. Especially now the biggest pest is gone. "

I smiled and rested my chin on his shoulder, his curls tickling my nose.

"I do like the torture dungeon though, that will come in handy. Not something easily found while house hunting."

"Excited by chains, my treasure? Already counting the cages and assigning shackles? I feel sorry for those poor fools that have crossed you."

"You don't have to go down there you know…. or see any cages." I rubbed my nose against his ear. "I'll make sure all the rooms with bad memories will be cleared out. Maybe even take down a wall or build a two."

Astarion glanced at me and i felt a squeeze on my knee.

"That is very sweet, but you don't have to worry about me anymore. I'm stronger, more powerful than i ever could've imagined. The pathetic past version of me is gone." He paused, adding with a low alluring tone. "I will keep you safe. You're mine."

I held his gaze as a pleasurable sensation fluttered up my loins. I wanted to kiss him, bury my claws into his shoulders and hear him scream my name. But, instead, i just marveled at his features, this gorgeous night, the choir of insects surrounding us. Savoring.

I brushed my cheek against his, smiling.

"Don't say that. You were never pathetic. I fell in love with that version of you, so, by saying that you're insulting me. You were beautiful, full of bloodthirst and revenge. A wolf who has broken its cage and is pacing restlessly. A hunter ready to strike. A hunter licking it's wounds…"

His eyes never left mine as i spoke and his expression changed ever so slightly, it was almost unnoticeable, but for a second he looked like that old Astarion. That one with the saddest eyes. Then it was gone, but he was intently listening, alert and curious.

"My greatest treasure, why are there bards in the world, if you could put them all out of work with just two lines?"

"And you were an asshole. I'm happy to see that never changed." I grinned since he knew i loved to tease him.

Astarion huffed with a smirk.

"Assholes look the best wearing capes and sitting on thrones. Don't you think I'm practicing for my grand finale?"

"You'll need a smaller cape or the crowds will mistake you for a bedsheet blown off the line."

I burst out laughing seeing his baffled face.

"You just had to ruin the moment, didn't you…you wretched little thing!!"

Astarion shoved me to the ground, which didn't take much force at all since i was still laughing. He turned around and climbed on top of me, pinning my wrists into prickly grass. Usually, this kind of move would've made me uneasy, but not with him.

He whispered softly, "only you speak about my past self in such a way. As if it was something worthy of loving. I don't understand why, but i appreciate it."

I lifted my head from the grassy pillow and kissed him, he replied more tenderly than usual. I made him part his lips and turned up the heat. Our kiss became fast and eager. My tail coiled around Astarion's leg, even though a large part of it was pinned underneath us, the squeeze was palpable. He pulled his lips away with noticeable reluctance and slid down onto my neck. My neck muscles bulged as i arched my back, inviting him closer. He didn't waste time and sank his fangs into my flesh. I uttered a faint growl, my body tensing as a sweet tingle of lust spread up from my loins. I thrust my hips against Astarion, wrapping my thigh around his waist.

In the heat of the moment he loosened his grip on my wrist and i broke free. I cupped the back of his head, held him, as he drank from me, i shared my body like a bountiful fountain of eternal youth and desire. My hips writhed in unison, relishing the delicate friction the body above provided. Astarion released my other wrist and moved his hand to my bosom, slid it down my body and slipped under my dress. I wore a long black gown with two slits just for this kind of occasion. His touch was keenly welcomed by my wet folds and he greeted them back by caressing the swollen bud. My hips thrust eagerly against him, my hands grabbing the fabric of his shirt and yanking with such force the fabric tore. His teeth were in my neck, his fingers were inside me and i was ecstatic.

"Oy, look what these ungodly wenches are up to, in plain sight and all!" A mocking voice arose from somewhere in the darkness, accompanied by chuckles and whistling.

My eyes fluttered open, they were hard to miss. Four men standing how far from us? Maybe 10 steps, maybe 15? By the looks of them, and the daggers hanging from their belts, they were here with a purpose. This wasn't my first encounter with peeping toms or robbers. My gaping mouth, that was gasping for breath just seconds ago, turned into a snarl of disgust. Astarion arched his back like an animal, released my neck, and averted his cold red eyes at the speaker.

The blond highwayman stared at him with a grin.

"Good sir, i'm sure you paid a pretty coin for that lass, but you have more than enough for all of us."

My eyes narrowed as i stared the men down, took note of their weapons. I was sure Astarion did the same. He stood up calmly, took my hand and pulled me onto my feet.

Two highwaymen moved closer, it was unclear whether they noticed there's something off about us or not. Their torches cast harsh shadows on our faces.

"Never seen a tiefling selling herself, at least not in these parts. Are they any good? Being so spiky all over?" a voice from the back chirped.

"Your pouch. Give it and you can carry on." The blond made an indecent gesture.

We looked at each other in silence, i could see the anger on Astarion's face. I could've torn through these men like butter, but i was curious to see Astarion's reaction. We were interrupted, i was still horny, wet and yearning for my eternal lover's touch. So, i half-smirked and gave my beloved a playful wink. Astarion's eyes gleamed with excitement, he knew i was up to something…something no good.

I hung my arm around Astarion's neck and kissed him like a widow kissing her resurrected husband. My thigh emerged from the slit, rubbing Astarion up and down, making sure to catch his hardened cock. Astarion's was dragging his nails down my spine, slowly, possessively - he knows how much i adore it!

I parted the kiss and said quietly, "I have a little party trick i'm dying to show you. Eyes on me. As for these fools…they need to die for killing the mood."

Astarion whispered, "Whatever games you're playing, my eyes are always on you, little dragon."

Astarion calling me his little dragon made my giddy with joy… and lust. I'm a draconic bloodline tiefling, so honoring my ancestors is very important to me.

I turned to highwaymen and caressed my breasts. "Tieflings don't sell themselves to just anyone. And this one here is out of your budget."

The highwaymen watched speechlessly, exchanging dirty looks mixed with arrogance. Finally, one stepped forward pulling out his dagger and stabbed me. The dagger didn't even touch my skin, it stopped a centimeter away. Astarion was holding his wrist, tightly enough the robber whimpered.

Astarion's gaze travelled around.

"If you're still here you're either exceptionally stupid or desperate. I'm guessing the first, since you haven't caught on who you're dealing with." Finished, Astarion snapped the man's wrist with a loud crackle. The man screeched and fell on his ass, his hand now flopping around like a meaty puppet.

"What in the hells are you?! Boys, take em, don't run! Take these monsters down!" the blond yelled at his remaining men, who were slowly backing away.

I took off running, my long black dress fluttering behind me, slits tearing, hair a wild mess and pure bloodlust in my eyes. I ran up to the nearest highwayman - his trembling hand gripped a large hunting knife. My reflexes were lightning fast, i kicked him in the balls and he fell to his knees, grunting like a feral pig. He tried to cover his family jewels, but i took a hold of his arm, stretched it out and kneed it from the underside, breaking the joint. The highwayman screamed like a banshee and i repeated the move on his remaining arm. Now, mangled and in horrible pain, the robber simply crawled around on his knees like some deformed animal.

As i was having fun with my prey, the third man tried to escape. Since we were in an overgrown tower there wasn't much coverage of any kind. The man thought the path was clear and sprinted towards an opening. Before he could reach it a cloud of black mist materialized before him. Astarion's face emerged from the misty tendrils - with a furrow on his brow and a grin.

"You wanted my money? So why are you running from me?" He grabbed the robber's throat and lifted his feet off the ground.

"You insulted my consort and that was the moment you sealed your fate. Now, excuse me, i have a surprise waiting for me."

Astarion tightened his grasp until his nails ripped trough the man's throat and he suffocated in a pool of bloody bubbles.

Astarion walked towards the center of action, calm and collected, his face splattered in red. I had cornered the blond one. He was in a state, sweat stains under his armpits, moist face, trembling hands.

"Curse you, demons, devils, whatever the hell spawned you! I'm going to gut you like pigs. You will pay for what you did!" The man jabbed his dagger forward, aiming for my stomach. He missed, i was simply too fast; barefooted in grass that will absorb all the blood. And sprout new leaves, new flowers, new life. These men were just compost.

"Remember, Astarion, you once asked how strong a tiefling's thighs are ?" i asked looking at him with a menacing smile. "I'll answer you today."

I made a quick step towards the highwayman, he flung his dagger at me, i dodged and kicked him in the face. He gasped and staggered backwards. I took off running again, pounced off the worn stone wall and landed on the robber's shoulders; his head now squeezed between my thick thighs.

Astarion walked closer, visibly thrilled by what comes next.

"Are we getting a demonstration? I hope so, for science…of course." Astarion tapped the highwayman's nose.

The robber mumbled, "please…have mercy…pl…"

I tucked the middle part of my dress behind my back, so the spectacle would be unobscured. Then i began squeezing my thighs together. My muscles bulged and danced like the strings of a violin in the hands of a musical genius. The highwayman began choking and sputtering, snot dripping from his nose, skin turning a shade of bright red, eyes welling up with tears. I steadied my hands on his shoulders and looked Astarion in the eyes. They were half-lidded and intense, the man could not take his eyes off me. I smiled, ran my tongue over my upper lip, and pressed my thighs together at full force.

The highwayman's mouth gaped, scleras red, as his blue eyeballs popped out of his face and my legs met with an earthshattering crunch. It was an explosion of blood, crimson red shower all over my dress, white hair, decolletage, face. I ran my clawed hand across my brow, trying to wipe off all the blood and pieces of gore. The body underneath me had collapsed and i was sitting in a buddle of blood. My dress soaked and clinging to my body, highlighting my curves, my sharp edges…. and my pleased smile.

Astarion observed me with an expression that was hard to describe - proud, amazed, enticed, aroused even. His eyes caressed by body from top to toe, as if he caught a glimpse of some rare beast basking in the sun. Me, dressed in blood and gore. Engaging my thighs with such force did nothing to ease the aching desire between my legs. It only intensified my lust. I beckoned Astarion closer while invitingly spreading my glistening bloody legs.

He put his hands onto my thighs and stroked them gently.

"That was quite the display of power, my little dragon. I'll make sure to never underestimate your beautiful thighs ever again." His voice was heavy from desire.

Astarion brushed my inner thigh and pressed his face against my skin. I exhaled loudly. He proceeded to lick the blood from my leg, slowly, with enjoyment, moving up until he was in my crotch. I gazed down to the tongue marks left behind and caressed Astarion's soft hair.

"You're right, but these are at your service," i said unapologetically whilst spreading my legs wider.

"Oh, you're magnificent. And you shall serve…" He spoke alluringly whilst diving into my crotch and brushing his tongue against my throbbing folds.

I gasped and thrust my hips upwards, yearning for more. To be played with. To be teased. He fondled my inner thighs, made sure to keep me wide open. His tongue was hard at work, licking blood off my pussy, inspecting every crevice, and he was thorough. I supported myself with one arm and used the other to sink my claws into his shoulder. My ears caught a faint moan. It was pure bliss, his tongue running across the bud over and over, giving it an occasional tongue flick. I started rocking my hips, the building pleasure driving me insane. Suddenly, he paused to move to my inner thigh and gave it a sharp nibble. I growled out in a lust filled rage. My fangs exposed, eyes glowing in the darkness. He smiled, pleased with himself.

A sound carried over by the wind, reaching my ears. It was a faint whimper. I turned my head and remembered that i had left something behind. The last two highwaymen were still alive. One was crawling on his knees - trying to get up, but struggling to against the stone wall, both of his arms dangling limply. The other was dashing across a field. I cackled, there was something so grotesquely funny about that.

I brought my hands above my head and channeled the magic, calling to my blood. In the distance two poor souls burst into flames and screaming commenced. My insides tingled with lust, i felt like a god… and i shoved my lover's head back where it belonged. He didn't resist me, his tongue danced around my swollen bud. I rocked my hips, feeling the build up of an orgasm coming. Moving my hips faster and faster, gasping, growling like a beast in heat, as the distant screams were dying down. My cheeks flushed and i threw my head back, a husky scream of delight escaped my throat. It was powerful.

Astarion rose, grabbed me by the hair and kissed me ferociously. His face was smeared with blood, his clothes soaked in crimson and pieces of flesh. I kissed him like i was ready to eat his face off. I wanted more, he was my plaything too. All mine, and also aching.

I grabbed his shirt and tore it open, his chest gleaming in the darkness. I fought free of his kiss and lunged at his chest, nipping it in various places, running my tongue over his nipple. His breath quavered, quickened even, and he yanked my hair. I stared him down and ran my tongue over the edges of my teeth, checking their sharpness, it was a warning. I wanted to make him come.

He pulled me into another kiss, using my hair as leverage, and my hands were undoing his pants. As we kissed my hand dove into his pants, stroking him. His breath trembled against my lips, his hand reached into my dress, grasping my breast. I started stroking him slowly and sped up until i had coaxed a moan from his lips.

Then i shoved him onto his back, being quite vicious, if i'm honest, and took his member into my mouth. It was my plaything, nobody could deny me my favorite toy. I edged him, teased him with my hot draconian breath; and when he was ready to burst, i let him finish. After everything was over i crawled into his arms and he squeezed me tight. Two immortals, coated in red and lying amidst mangled bodies. The world was ours to take.

[astarionfreak]

Exile (Or: How you learned to stay) | Ch. 8 - Shadowheart: Hanging

// Ascended Astarion x Reader (Fem!Durge) + Shadowheart x Reader (Fem!Durge)

Shadowheart returns to Astarion's palace with Gale and Minthara. Things go about as well as you'd expect.

18+ • NSFW • 3.7K words (8/?) | Read on AO3 (Dead Dove: Do Not Eat - Check tags for warnings)

You steel your nerves as you approach Astarion’s palace. A potion bottle is pressed tight to your chest. You keep it against your skin so you can feel it, so you know you have it. It’s the critical first half of a plan that could give her an advantage.

The potion has to work. You can’t fail her. You won’t fail. If you don’t get this right, all is lost.

You glance over at Gale. He’s facing forward, not looking at you. What is going through his mind? He’s been quiet since you started your journey here.

The sun shines brightly in the sky, a striking contrast to the first time you came. Back then, it was so dark. There was only a sliver of the moon in the sky to light your path. Perhaps that was a warning.

You were on a mission to rescue Astarion then. Now, you’re fighting to undo the mistakes of that night.

The spawn come in the dead of night. You were sleeping. You wake to a fight. You fail. They take him.

They take Astarion.

She gathers her things, holding back angry tears as she pulls on her gear. Blood drips down into her eye from a deep gash on her forehead. “They took him. They took him and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop them. I failed — I failed him,” she says.

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper. “We were all here. This does not rest on your shoulders alone.”

The rage on her face is unmistakable, there’s a tremble in her voice when she tells you to get dressed. Her breath comes in rapid-fire bursts. She’s not thinking clearly.

“Just breathe, love. We’ll get him,” you say, trying to find your conviction. You reach for her, but she pulls away. Your heart sinks. She won’t let you touch her. She won’t let you comfort her.

You begin to whisper a healing spell.

“Save your magic. We’ll need it,” her voice is flat and distant.

She won’t let you heal her.

“Let me do this, please,” you say.

“No.” She sheaths her daggers and slings a light crossbow over her back. “I’m not worth it.”

“A potion, then. I am not foolish enough to set foot in a vampire den with someone who is actively bleeding,” you say.

She grunts something that you accept as a begrudging ‘okay, fine.’ You reach into your pack and find a small healing potion. You take her wrist and press the bottle into her hand. For a moment, it’s as though she comes back to you.

Her eyes soften. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Shadowheart. He wasn’t ever supposed to go back to that place.”

“I know,” you say. “He’s going to be okay.”

“We were going to handle this without him.” She curls her fingers around the potion bottle but doesn’t pull her hand away from yours.

Your thumb moves in small circles around her wrist. An attempt to comfort her. “I know.”

She stares at you with wide eyes, her chest heaving with each breath. Her lips are softly parted.

You wish to pull her into your arms, to comfort her in the only way you know how. But she is not yours to hold. Not anymore. When all this is over, Cazador, the cult, the brain — maybe you can win her back.

“He’s going to want to ascend,” she whispers. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stop him.”

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Bonus oneshot: Palisade afternoon

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You (Chapter 5)

summary: astarion takes care of you following the events at the ball.

rating: E (smut chapter!)

word count: 4.5k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader)

cw: 18+. smut, hurt/comfort, soft!ascended astarion, flashbacks of traumatic events (from previous chapter), consent is hot, soft dom!reader, porn with feelings, power play (if you squint), passionate lovemaking, light teasing, p in v, blood/vampire bites, creampie, aftercare. full list on ao3

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But if I touch you, would you feel it there?

Could I trust love even if I'm scared?

Oh, I wish I could give like I'm longing to give

Oh, I wish I could live like I'm longing to live

-

The ride back to the palace is dreadfully quiet, with nothing but the sound of the wheels against the ground as the carriage is being moved around. The night is cold, but you still have Astarion’s coat covering your shivering form and his arm wrapped around you protectively, providing you with a reassuring warmth. You’re still shaken by what happened and how helpless you were in that moment. Hells, you were strong – maybe not as strong as Karlach – but you were able to hold your own on the battlefield and yet you got overpowered by this poor excuse of a man? How could this happen? How did you let yourself get in that situation? Despite not wanting to think back on it, you remember what Astarion had told you that first night spent in the cells. Was it true then, that his spying on you assured your security during all those months spent apart? Were you truly as hopeless as he envisioned you? Were you not as strong as you believed yourself to be? And gods damn, how did he manage to capture you so easily back then, and why had you not confronted him about that too?

You’re taken out of your rumination as you reach the crimson palace, and he brings you to your bathroom where he calls for Amedee to prepare a bath for you before dismissing her to take care of you himself. He opens a drawer filled with the best essential oils the market can offer, taking the time to pick the right one. He approaches you and tugs at the lace down your waist, which makes you turn abruptly, still anxious from your earlier confrontation. He softly asks, “May I?” and waits until you give him a few nods, unable yet to speak, to undress you with the utmost care. With your outfit now disposed of on the floor, he takes care of removing your jewellery, placing them aside on the nearest table, before letting your hair cascading down your back. You stand in your most vulnerable state in front of him, with your crossed arms barely covering your chest. 

He moves between you and the bath, holding out his hand to help you in, his eyes never leaving yours. “Come now, love.” You stare for a few moments at his inviting hand before taking it to help lower yourself in. The relief is almost instant; all the tension in your muscles leaves as you make contact with the warm bath water and the scent of lotus flower hits you all at once, allowing you to relax. He reaches for a sponge that he dips in the bath before pushing your hair aside and lightly scrubs your back and shoulders. With the silence shared between the two of you, your mind goes back to what happened earlier, replaying the scene in your head over and over again, wondering: what could you have done differently? In another reality, was there any way for you to avoid what had happened? Deep down, wasn’t this your own fault for voicing an opinion at the wrong time? You could’ve avoided that encounter and that dance outside altogether if you hadn’t spoken just at this moment, you could’ve avoided it if you just kept to yourself for once, Gods dammit, why did you always have to open your damned mouth?!

The emotions overflow you and soon, a sob escapes you; you hate how all of it is making you feel powerless, how this single experience is making you question your whole identity. You hate how it happened so fast, how preventable it all was, but most of all, you hate yourself–

“Shhh, it's okay, you’re alright dear.”

You had almost forgotten about Astarion up until now, his voice yet again grounding you back in the present, bringing you back to safety. You sniffle, trying to calm the tears enough to speak up. Your voice is tainted with a roughness from your previous cries, “Why didn’t you kill him?” You don’t really wanna talk about what happened, but it was unlike him to let someone like this go unharmed.

“There is a time and a place for such things; a ball with the most influential figures of Baldur’s Gate was not it.” He says, dipping the sponge back in the water and squeezing it over your shivering shoulders to bring them some warmth. “Then again, it didn’t stop him from attacking you,” he grunts, “but believe me, I won’t let this bastard get away with this. All in due time.” He takes a deep breath, bringing your hair back to soak it with the help of a small bucket. The anger in his voice created a strange contrast with the attentive care he offered you.

“How did you know I was hurt?”

“Your blood, dear. I could recognize it from miles away.” You bring your hand to your neck where the knife has been; it had completely slipped your mind that you had been cut. “The second I smelled it I… I expected the worst. I came as quickly as I could.”

A sudden guilt washes over you, thinking back to the previous month. “I don’t understand why you’re doing all of this… I’ve been horrible to you ever since you brought me here.”

“A little, but wouldn’t you say I deserve it?” You hum quietly through your tears and a smile appears on his lips for a just moment. “I wasn’t exactly… gentle, in my approach, but I stand by what I said about wanting what’s best for you. I don’t see why I would go back on my word, now of all time.” He continues, now soaping your hair.

“Even after knowing I would leave eventually?”

“My feelings for you remain the same no matter where you go, darling.”

You nod thoughtfully; he might’ve been terrible in his approach, but he’s also shown countless times how much he cared for you, even after many months apart. It makes you think back to the first discussion you had with him, in the dungeons. “I still can’t believe you had me kidnapped.”

“Can you really blame me?”

You turn around abruptly, almost offended by his question, “Yes? What prevented you from just coming up to me to talk, y’know, like a normal person?”

“Well, to be fair, you had been avoiding me like the sun at the reunion, I wasn’t expecting you to willingly talk to me. You have to understand my side darling; it felt necessary.”

You sigh heavily, leaning back against the wall of the bath, “All of this because you couldn’t move on.”

Your tenacity makes him smile again. There you were: the fighter that he loved, the woman who stood up for herself. “I did really try, if you must know. I wanted to respect your choice to part ways, move on and build my empire with someone who matched my ideals!... And never have to see you again.” His extravagant tone suddenly changes to a serious one, “But I couldn’t bring myself to commit to anyone else. Every time I tried, I would look at them and I could only see… you. You were never afraid to stand up to me, unlike the others.” He chuckles, “You still do.”

You stay silent, taking in his confession, as he washes out your hair before standing up with a clean towel.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, hm?”

You look at him with tired eyes before raising yourself from the water and linking your arms around his neck as he picks you up. You find yourself observing his face for any sign of malice, anything that would tell you that his intentions weren’t pure, and you can’t find any. You’re not sure if it reassures you or terrifies you the most; to know he has been truthful all along and that you outright refused to see it. He lays you down on your bed and moves away to search your wardrobe, looking to find you clothes for the night. As he makes his way towards you with a dark blue satin night robe, you find your voice again.

“I know you said all those things, but you could have anyone else so easily… Someone who doesn’t argue with you constantly…”

He lays the dress at your feet and sits on the edge of the bed. “My sweet, if I wanted someone who blindly agrees to everything I say, I could have anyone. Turn another spawn and choose them as my obedient little puppet. I could have a thousand like them. You, on the other hand, challenge me everyday. No one could ever come close to you, my love.” He sees your eyes looking away, and he reaches for your cheek, stroking it softly. “When I saw you at the reunion for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I wanted nothing but to have you back. I crave you like I crave the sun’s embrace, Gods, I was alive again after hundreds of years and yet, I’ve never felt more alive than by your side.” He drops his hand to take yours, holding it firmly, and you look back at him. “If I could have anyone, I would still want you and only you. If you just let me take care of you, we could be so good together.” His voice is low and deep, it resonates through you, draws you to him. “Isn’t this what you want?”

Your gaze falls down to his hand with yours, avoiding his eyes, and you groan, those conflicting feelings frustrating you. “I don’t know what I want, alright? I–” You trail off, your words escaping you. “When I left you, it’s because I felt you had changed. I thought I had lost you to that ritual, that the man I loved was gone, but now…” Your eyes find his again, and he looks at you with a kindness you missed. When you speak again, your voice is but a whisper. “I don’t know anymore… I spent so long regretting helping you through the rite of ascension, I really thought it had turned you into a monster, I–” You close your eyes and a silent tear streaks down your cheek. “I thought I had lost you.”

He reaches out to wipe it away and you open your eyes to look back at him. “Oh darling, I never left. It was always me, simply better.” His voice is the softest you've ever heard. If you weren’t looking at him when he spoke, you wouldn’t believe the words came from him. “What I did, I did for us. With my powers, I can assure both of us security, forever, and that’s all thanks to you.” He pauses, drawing you closer to him. “You gave me everything. I will spend every day of my eternal life thanking you for it, in every imaginable way. Whatever your heart desires will be yours.”

You hold his stare as much as you can through your stressful blinking. He’s gotten incredibly close to you and you feel your chest rise higher as your breathing quickens, the tension between you two becoming unbearable. 

You look into his eyes, and you see it then: there he is, your Astarion. The same vulnerable pale elf you had ventured and shared nights with all these months ago. Under these layers of newly acquired powers was hiding the man you fell in love with, and tonight you had found him, at long last. You let go of a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in and your eyes quickly dart to his mouth, lips still parted from speaking up, and in an instant, your lips meet in a passionate and rough embrace. All the tension, the longing and lusting leaves your chest, pouring into this kiss. Your hands get lost in his hair, pulling him in as he pushes you down against your bed, his hands landing next to your head. 

You’re gonna regret that.

Panic settles back into you, the memories flashing back into your mind and you push Astarion away, breaking the kiss suddenly as your breathing quickens and your eyes get lost elsewhere. You’re back in the garden, with the nobleman from the party.

“Darling?”

His weight upon you, the dagger against your throat, his hand sliding up your thighs.

“Love, look at me,” he tilts your head upwards, and you snap out of the flashback, finally back to Astarion. “Hey, it’s me. You’re here. You’re safe.”

You sigh heavily, your breathing coming back to you gradually. The emotions within you are overwhelming; you’re terrified and enraged, yet, with Astarion you’re reassured, you’re content, you’re… in love. 

Look at how much he cares for you, you think to yourself. He wishes for nothing but your wellbeing. He wants to be yours, and only wishes for you to be his. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, worried by your lack of words. “Just say the word and we can end it there.”

You blink quickly, briefly not trusting your vision following the last seconds that happened and your hands sneak their way over his face, caressing his cheeks. The softness of his skin, the surprising warmth emanating from him…

You shake your head; you need this. You need him. “Stay with me…” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to be alone… please.”

His hand covers yours, and when you look in his eyes, you see what he's trying to say with unspoken words: anything for you, you have nothing to fear with me, I've got you my love.

As the tears overflow you, you bring him back into you, crashing your lips together. Your kiss is messy, with your tongues dancing with each other, both of you wanting more of the other, your teeth biting and pulling, with his fangs grazing your lips everlightly, drawing out the slightest drops of blood just to have a taste. He groans in your mouth at the taste of your crimson and his hips grind against your leg, pressing his growing erection on you as his carnal lust awakens. 

“Gods, I’ve missed you,” he says, with a ragged breath.

You feel as if you were possessed, your arms flying to the helm of his shirt, pulling to free him from this cage that his clothes provided, yearning for his touch that you couldn’t wait any longer to feel. Without breaking contact, he quickly removes the rest of his own clothes and discards the wet towel you were previously wrapped in, revealing your delicate skin underneath. The second both of your clothings are off, you push Astarion down on the bed, climbing over him and pinning him down by his wrists. 

“There you are, my little spitfire,” he purrs.

When you see a grin forming over his lips, you can’t help the smile forming on your own lips. You pause to admire him, taking in the sight of his dishevelled hair, the lust in his eyes; you missed this, missed him.

You close the gap between your bodies, laying your forehead against his, and say your next words through a ragged breath, “You have no idea how much I want to ravish you.”

“Take what you need, darling. I want you to have control, to feel like you’re in charge of your own body again. I might not have been able to stop what happened tonight, but I want to be the one who empowers you once again. I want to help you like nobody could for me. Tonight, your word is my command; I am yours.”

To have him at your fingertips, following your every word… His words stir something within you, to see how utterly devoted he is to you makes you want to truly make him yours. You can barely believe the opportunity he’s giving you, given the last time you spoke about the subject was after your visit at moonrise towers. You never had the chance to have another talk about his boundaries, but that was also before he became the vampire ascendant. You take his hands to guide them over your thighs, intending on taking up on his offer, “Touch me.”

“How,” his hands remain still on your thighs. “Don’t be shy now, little love. Tell me exactly what you want.”

You lean over him again, your lips barely apart, and you whisper your next command, “I want your hands to caress my skin.”

His hands start moving over your strong thighs, touching every inch there is to discover.

“Guide me,” he whispers. “I’ll only do what you instruct me to do.”

“Move over to my waist.”

His hands travel higher, sneaking over your hips ever so slightly.

“Where to next?” He hums.

“Up and down my back…” He reaches for the highest point of your back, down to the frontier of your ass, only grazing your cheeks. 

“I want to feel your nails on my skin.”

His grip on you changes, with his nails now softly scratching over your skin, “Like this?”

You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation. “Mh, harder.” His nails sink into you and you throw your head back as your back arches. “Ah– Just like this…” 

Your breasts are now hovering near his face and with each breath you take, they draw closer to his mouth. He could easily cave into his desires and devour you right then and there, but as promised, he waits until you give him his next instruction. Luckily for him, you needed this as much as he did, and neither of you were patient people.

“Now your mouth… over my breast,” you reach out to grab onto his hand scratching your back to put it over your boob. “And squeeze this one.”

As he lifts himself up, his mouth latches on your nipple that he relentlessly sucks on, while his hand massages the one you had guided him to. His fangs lightly scrape over the soft skin of your breast and you softly cry out before giving him your next command.

“Lick your way to my neck,” your voice is but a whisper by now.

Slowly, his mouth leaves your boob and he leaves a faint trail of saliva over your chest as he makes his way to your precious neck. Your hips rock back and forth, only slightly, relishing in the delicious friction you get from his length between your wet folds. Astarion wasn’t going to complain, but he felt like you could take it further, should you desire it.

“If you want something else, you can take it,” he purrs against your neck. “What's mine is yours.”

The temptation to simply take him in was too good to resist, but it’s not something you would allow yourself just yet. The friction it provided over your clit was almost better than having him inside you, and his reaction was even better. Teasing him brought you more satisfaction than you expected and you intended on drawing it out as long as you could. He growled against your neck, only nibbling on your skin there and you could feel how his hips jerked in reaction to your teasing. With your next order on the tip of your tongue, you’re taken aback from the realisation that you wanted this from him. There’s a part of you that’s terrified of what might come out of this, but the rest of your being desires nothing more.

“Bite me.”

He leaves your neck to look into your eyes, not believing the words you had just said. He needed you to say it again, to confirm he didn’t imagine it out of pure madness. That you, the woman he desired most, desired him just as much; just like you used to. Then, when you see the way he looks at you with devilish want, you allow yourself to take what you’ve been wanting for days. You lift yourself up and you position him over your entrance before slamming your hips down, crying out as you take him fully in one thrust. He groans loudly when he enters you, throwing his head back at the feeling and you take this chance to grab his luscious hair and pull back, hard. When he looks back at you, his eyes have gone dark with lust and the thread of control holding him back has gone so thin that it threatens to break at any moment. You repeat your command between two breaths, reasserting your dominance over him.

“Bite… me.”

You guide him towards the spot in your neck where you missed him most before releasing your grip on him. He kisses the spot in the crook of your neck that he knew all too well one last time, finding your pulse and sinking his fangs into your soft skin. As he drinks you in, your mind blanks out, completely lost in the euphoria his bites provided you, and all of a sudden, you’re back at your days spent camping, when this was moreso about necessity, when you gave yourself to him, when you would’ve given him everything. He’s still drinking when the next words slip past your lips between two breaths, completely unaware of the effect they would have.

“Tell me… tell me you love me.”

His teeth leave your skin and he pulls back to look at you, as if he was looking for something you weren’t saying out loud, and if he wasn’t looking at you then, he wouldn’t believe what you had asked of him. Nevertheless, he complies; as he is yours forever more, and you were his for tonight.

“I love you.”

Your half lidded eyes are completely lost in the sight of him with your blood on his mouth, and before you can think about it, your lips are on his, tasting him, tasting yourself, taking everything he has to offer, but also offering yourself to him. You didn’t want to let go, to break the proximity you had longed to share for so long, but the lack of air forces you to pull away. When he looks at you again, you’re stained from your blood, and two fine lines drop from where he bit you. 

“I'll take down the moon and stars for you.”

He grabs onto your hips as he begins to thrust upwards, and you let him, too dizzy to think of taking back that control or giving him a new command. He could have the reigns now, you had proved to yourself that you were whole, and this experience brought you even closer to him, the closest you had ever been. 

“I'll love you until the world burns down.”

Closer than this and your bodies would fuse together, your minds would meld as one, losing yourself into the other. Ultimately, love, no matter how twisted it had become, had brought you back together against all odds.

“I would burn it down for you if you just asked.”

And you loved him, gods, you hated how much you loved him despite all he had done, despite capturing you to bring you here. You promise yourself that you will bring it up again, make him right his wrongs, force him to–

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

One of his hands finds its way to the back of your neck, cradling you closer to kiss your skin between each declaration, and it pushes aside any thoughts you previously had. He repeats himself with a ragged breath, and each time he tells you he loves you, it's with more and more conviction. His pace gets more frantic as he lets himself come undone for you.

“Love… I’m close…” He says, panting.

You pull him into another kiss, knowing you’re nearing the edge of ecstasy too and you’re reaching for any more contact you could have. You couldn’t care for words anymore, but you knew what you wanted, and you would take it, regardless of what he had done in the past. For tonight, you forgave him, and you accepted this form of apology from him.

“Fuck, ah–”

Feeling him shooting his hot seed inside of you is your unbecoming. With a few more strokes, along with his cock twitching inside of you, you finally go over the edge. As the world becomes silent, you scream in pleasure, finally letting go of all those feelings you had bottled up over the last days. The build up in your belly reaches your heart, and there’s something of an explosion in your chest, fireworks in your head, and you see stars for a mere moment. When you come down from your high, you let yourself fall over him, completely spent, with your head hiding in the crook of his neck.

You stay like this for a while, with him still inside you and you resting on top of him, allowing yourself to catch your breath, and he holds you close as if you were but a fleeting image that was going to vanish, but by now, you had no intention of leaving.

The way he strokes your hair aside so casually makes you yearn for more of it. It feels so intimate, the tenderness of it all making you feel as if you had never been apart, not for an instant. 

“So much for getting you clean earlier, mh?” You laugh quietly in the crook of his neck; had you known the night was going to take such a turn, maybe you would’ve waited before taking that bath. “Now, let me take care of you, the way you deserve it.”

You groan, too tired to care about getting clean, and when he sees that you had no intention of getting up, he lifts you up himself to carry you to your bath. He calls on Amedee once again to get new warm water, and this time he hops in the bath with you to clean you up. You hum, content with the way he cared for you so dearly, and once you’re both clean, he takes you out of your bath to dry you up. He carries you back to bed where he tucks you in and the moment he turns to leave you stop him.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Eager for more, are we?”

“My word is your command – remember? Stay.”

Your words are direct, but your voice is soft and your eyes are almost pleading with him; he can’t find it in himself to refuse you. As he joins you in bed, you hold him close, resting your head over his chest once again, and you let yourself be lulled to sleep by the unfamiliar sound of his calm heartbeat, along with the crackling of the fireplace.

-

Can I move you? Can I soothe your fear?

Could you trust love, if I prove it's there?

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

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[brabblesblog]

Him, probably watching me crawl towards him, crazed.

Thank you yet again @emy-san <3

[libbybee]

FEEDING THE HUNGER — AA

◜pairing: astarion ⨯ fem!reader ◜rating: MDNI 18+ ┊ wc: 2.2K ◜cw: vampire ascendant, predator/prey, piv, bite kink, blood, bodily fluids, masochism, dirty talk, cock riding, overstimulation, creampie.

▹ summary. a guttural groan vibrated against your neck just as his cock drove into you with wild intensity. the cruel rhythm of his thrusts mirrored the raw hunger in his feeding, but you weren’t his lamb—you were his equal, and you were to remind him of that.

A/N. english isn't my native language, sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

AO3 ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ PLAYLIST ┊ IMG

‎

You straddled him with abandon, making the sound of skin meeting skin resonate through the bedroom. Astarion’s cock was filling your cunt completely; each thick vein pulsed against your tight walls, and every thrust felt so deep it made you see stars. You gripped his waist, and your nails left red trails across the pale beauty of his skin, while his crimson eyes devoured every inch of you.

“Just look at you, riding me like this,” he growled harshly, sliding his hands down your thighs to grip your ass and squeeze it as he directed you more rigidly onto him. “Gods, your cunt feels like heaven. So tight, so fucking perfect for me.”

The hunger in his stare was matched by the soft groans that escaped from his lips—low and rough, like a melody only meant for you. But you? You couldn’t match his restraint. Your moans were utterly shameless, as every thrust forced your core to accommodate his full length. It stirred a deeper fire in your lower belly as you rubbed your folds against him, making the coarse white hair at the base of his cock grind against your clit, hitching your breath.

His lips twisted into a wicked smirk at your reaction. “Ah, there it is,” he purred. “That delicious moan from those lips. Don’t stop, beautiful; give me more.”

You undulated your hips faster and more fervently at his request, and your head went back as the pleasure coiled tighter within you. And Astarion didn't waste a single second; he surged forward to brush his lips against the column of your neck, yanking your hips down and thrusting his up into you, drawing a gasp from you.

“You’re irresistible,” he rasped, scraping his teeth along your neck to tease you before biting down on your pulse vein and stealing a quiet, tortured moan from your lips.

The sharp point of his fangs gave way almost instantly to a burning ecstasy as his lips sealed over your skin. The bite made you shiver and warmed every nerve with pleasure as he drank your blood. Each pull of his lips was like fire, an intoxicating blend of pain and rapture that left you trembling.

A guttural groan vibrated against your neck just as his cock drove into you with wild intensity. The cruel rhythm of his thrusts mirrored the raw hunger in his feeding, but you weren’t his lamb—you were his equal, and you were to remind him of that.

You tangled your fingers in his silvery hair to tug hard enough to pull his head back and expose the line of his throat. His eyes blazed with desire and surprise as you leaned in, brushing his skin with your lips before your tongue traced the pulse of his vein. Then you sank your fangs into him.

Astarion’s reaction was instant and feral—a delicious growl ripped from him and made your walls clench involuntarily around him. His hands intensified their grip on your hips, digging into your flesh as he drove you down onto his cock, still grinding your sensitive cunt against the rough hair at his base.

“Fuck,” he muttered, the word rolling off his tongue like sin. “Savour it, darling. Sink your teeth deeper. I'm yours.”

The taste of his blood was rich and stimulating, like the finest wines. Each drop seemed to emanate an otherworldly vitality, seeping into you and making your pulse race. Every touch of his hands and every thrust of his hips became sharper and more electric, as if his scarlet magnified all sensations.

You took more of his addictive elixir, relishing the way it warmed you. He groaned low and guttural while he kept driving into you; each piston-like thrust made you tremble in his grasp, overtaken by the dual ecstasy of feeding from him and being well fucked.

A need to share this intimacy and give as much as you were taking surged from you. And without pulling back, you lifted your wrist to his lips to silently invite him to feed, too.

His eyes now flashed with a feral hunger, and he took up your offer, grasping your wrist gently at first to caress with his lips the delicate veins under your skin. “You spoil me with such a precious gift,” he uttered. “My perfect consort...” He purred before sinking his fangs into it without hesitation, drawing a sharp exhale from you as the bite provoked a new layer of pleasure.

Astarion’s groans became rougher and more primal, gripping your ass to guide you down harder and grinding your swollen clit against his pelvis. The combination of pain, stimulation, and intoxicating feeding sent you rushing towards ecstasy.

When you pulled back, his blood left a trail down your chin from your lips, and he released your wrist, immediately darting his fingers to your chin to grip it firmly. Crimson smeared his lips as well, and his lustful gaze locked onto you with a yearning that bordered on vicious, pulling you into a kiss so passionate and lascivious it stole the breath from you.

His tongue plunged into your mouth, eager to seek the precious elixir you had just shared. The taste of mingled blood was nothing short of intoxicating—sweetened but complex, with notes reminiscent of a full-bodied red wine aged to perfection. It carried the richness of a smoky undertone that lingered on the palate and a metallic sharpness that cut like the icy texture of iron. The flavour was vibrant and lush, like a symphony of death and lust that coursed through your senses, leaving you light-headed and irresistibly eager for more.

Astarion groaned against your lips, his pleasure raw with each drag of his tongue against yours, delving his tongue deeper to draw out every trace of the nectar. It was as if the mingled blood fed not just his hunger but his soul, and each flick of his tongue, every fervent press of his lips, was a testament to his insatiable thirst.

His reddish irises burnt when he pulled back for the barest moment, with a faint hint of the mixed blood on his lips. Then he surged forward again to kiss you, leaving no doubt that he was utterly lost in the taste of you—utterly lost in you.

His lips curled against yours as he slid one of his hands between your bodies to find your puffy clit and rub circles against it that matched his pace. And your cunt tightened around him, causing you to break the kiss when your moans turned into desperate, broken sounds just when your climax was about to collapse within you.

“There is nothing sweeter than this,” he said, a filthy growl against your lips. “And you’re mine—completely, eternally mine.” He dragged his sharp fangs along your bottom lip to draw out more of your blood and soothe the fresh cut with his tongue.

“I’m yours,” you whispered between desperate gasps against his lips, gripping his hair with one of your hands and his nape with the other as you rocked yourself against him. “Every part of me belongs to you.”

His eyes darkened as he looked at you, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. “My beautiful treasure,” he purred, delighted. “I never tire of hearing you say it.” He groaned against your neck as he trailed hungry kisses along it.

“Keep riding me like the good girl you are,” he said, his tone thick with lust. “Let me feel that sweet, tight cunt soaking me while you milk my cock, darling.”

You planted your hands against his chest, feeling his body tense beneath your palms while you rocked your hips against his. Rolling them in a way that allowed you to feel every thick vein pulsing along his shaft as it dragged against every sensitive spot within you, his hips snapping up to match your pace. Seizing your waist with his hands to guide you rougher and stretching your cunt with his cock, being almost too much while it fed the fire in your belly until you thought you might combust.

The pace ripped a deep, primal groan from him, and you heard it as if it were a spark that started a wildfire inside you, raising your desire to fuck him faster and harder. The slick and obscene slaps of your bodies colliding through the room created a symphony of passion that made you flush and your core clench with each thrust.

“Astarion,” you moaned as if his name were a last-ditch appeal on your tongue while your fingernails swept across his chest in a fruitless effort to anchor yourself. All he could do was smirk maliciously in enjoyment as you streaked his skin with bright red.

As his fiery gaze ate up your quivering body, a savage snarl escaped his lips. “So fucking tight,” he grunted. “Taking me so beautifully.” The head of his cock hammered your cervix as he drove up violently, his hands tightening on your hips. “I can feel how badly you need this, how desperate you are to be filled by me.”

His words sent you out of control, making your thighs shake and the knot of pleasure in your core growing more and more intolerable. Your body acted on its own, grinding against him with impulsive abandon, stoking the inferno within you.

Astarion's grasp became bruising as he sensed your unwinding, his sharp fangs grazing the tender column of your throat. “Drench my cock, my treasure,” he growled against you. “Don’t hold back, love. Let me feel you.”

You came completely undone by the tidal wave of ecstasy that erupted from the tone of his voice, feeling a dazzling explosion of pleasure as your walls clenched around him with an intensity that seemed to pull him even deeper within you. The heat of your release surged through you, carrying you higher until you felt as if you might dissolve in the sheer force of it. Your moans were a sound of unadulterated bliss, uninhibited and pure.

Astarion's climax followed yours due to your pussy's intense, frantic hold on his cock. His growls became savage as he used a bruising grip to pull you down onto him and settle himself completely inside of you. As his cock reached its maximum hardness, you could feel the distinctive throbs of it. Then it happened—spurts as he came into you.

The sensation was intense, your already sensitive body responding to the warmth of his climax as it spread deep inside your walls. It was electrifying—an intimate bond shared between you that left you trembling. You could feel every pulse of his tip against your cervix and each involuntary twitch of his hips as he grounded himself deeper, ensuring no drop was spared.

His abrupt groan was your name falling from his lips, a sound raw with satisfaction and lust. You shivered against him, slumping forward to rest against his chest, both of your breaths mingling as you fought to steady yourselves.

His hands softened their hold, sliding up your sides in a tender caress as his eyes bore into yours, dark with lust. “My perfect little consort,” he rasped. “Milking me dry like you’re starving for it.”

Your bodies remained intertwined, his cock still nestled deep inside you, as if the mere thought of separation were cruel in your bond. He roamed your body with his hands lazily, tracing the swell of your hips as if cherishing your body anew. His lips sought yours, capturing them in a kiss that was no longer driven by hunger but by a slower, more profound need. Something achingly sensuous.

The press of his mouth against yours deepened, sliding his tongue against yours in a longing dance. When he finally pulled away, a thin trail of saliva connected your lips.

Then his pelvis surged upward to drive himself deeper into you once more, and his lips twisted into a smirk as he felt the aftershocks of your climax on your cunt. His eyes, half-lidded, locked onto yours, their intensity softened by adoration.“Oh, you’re not done yet, are you, darling?”

His hands slid from your hips to your waist and your breasts to graze your sensitive nipples with his thumbs, drawing a soft sigh from your lips. A low hum of satisfaction escaped him. “You’ve been so good for me,” he praised. “And yet... you keep me wanting.”

A flush spread across your cheeks, and you cupped his face with both hands. “And I’ll always give you more,” you whispered sweetly against his lips.

His smirk altered into something softer as he leaned in to brush his lips against your jaw and trail kisses down your neck. His hips shifted slightly to press more deeply into you, making you both gasp softly at the overstimulation. But this time, there was no rush, just his slow thrusts that spoke of his need to prolong your pleasure.

Your hands slid down to rest on his chest, feeling the faint thrum of his pulse beneath one of your palms. “You’ve ruined me, Astarion,” you claimed. “No one else could ever—”

“Good,” he interjected smoothly, curling his lips into a pleased smile against your skin. “I’d hate to think of anyone else touching what’s mine.”

‎