#astarion oneshots
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Doing Astarion body study + drawing
#art#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate tav#astarion#tavstarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#astarion baldurs gate#bg3 astarion#astarion oneshots#baldurs gate astarion#baldur's gate iii#baldurs gate fanart#bg3#bg3 fanart#artwork#procreate#body study#art study#he’s so fine#in love#ignore the huge ass bulge#astarion acunin
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seriously what kinda boots was gale wearing in that one shot that astarion was so transfixed
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can I request some cute fluff with Astarion - I think something cute would be tav’s never worn a dress and they put one on and Astarion is just mindblow by how good they look? 🥺
maybe he can do some chivalrous acts as well~
She Looks Breathtaking

pairing : astarion x (fem) reader
summary : astarion has never seen you in a dress, you haven’t been in one since you were taken from baldur's gate. you both find it hard to hide your excitement.
warnings : none :)
authors note: I hope you like this anon! (first, i finally played baldur's gate. second, i'm going to try and pump out the requests that I haven't gotten to.)

“Oh! Look how pretty this is!”
You turn your head to look towards Karlach’s booming voice, much too loud for the small space you were in. She held up a dress, something you hadn’t thought about wearing in months. You hadn’t had any important events to attend.
Walking over to her side, you take the fabric between your fingers. “It’s beautiful..”
“You should get it. I think you’d look great, and I bet Astarion would like it too.” She nudged at your side, teasing. Your face flushed, and you ran your fingers along the hem of the dress, avoiding Karlachs gaze. She likes to poke fun at the obvious crush you had developed on Astarion, and everytime she did you regretted telling her more and more.
Eventually, you find a small paper attached to the fabric showing the price of the dress, eyes widening at the disgustingly low price.
“When would I even get a chance to wear it? It would go to waste, just weigh my bag down.” Karlach huffs, taking the price tag and reading it for herself.
“Are you kidding me? Even if you don’t wear it, you’d be a fool to ignore this price. Maybe you will attend some noble party when we get to Baldur's Gate!” She was way too excited but her energy almost made you agree with her, the dress was so cheap even if it went unworn for a long time. And you hadn’t worn one in..you couldn’t even remember.
You thought about it for a moment before moving for your coin pouch, pouring the amount into your hand and handing the coins to the trader. They slip out of your hand much faster than you'd care to admit, hiding your excitement from Karlach proving to be a challenge. “Don’t say a word to anyone, Karlach, I mean it.”
“Fine. But I better get to see you in it, at least try it on for me when we get back to camp!” You shake your head, amused by Karlachs childish antics, but you yourself can’t help but feel a little bit excited by the idea of dressing up.
When you returned to camp that night you had forgotten about the dress in your bag, slipping your mind amidst the constant thought of being attacked or having to talk your way out of a hostile situation.
So when Karlach came bouncing over to your side, your tent tucked away in a corner secluded from most of your party to keep your privacy, you could only give her a confused look. She seemed so excited and you had no idea why, and she was beginning to return the confusion.
“You gonna put on the dress or just make me stand here?” Oh! You let your bag fall to the ground, crouching down to rummage through its contents, searching for the dress.
When you found it you laid it over your bag, standing back up to remove the leather from your body. You could hear Karlachs giggles as you shimmied out of your much too tight leather pants, only to have to pull the dress over your body right after.
Your hair was up, but you untied it and allowed your hair to fall over your shoulders. When you turned back to her, she stared at you with awe. “Woah..”
“What?”
“You look..nice.” You giggled, which made her laugh along with you, both of you unaware of the approaching footsteps. His eyes trace along your figure, and he allows himself a moment of greediness to take in the full effect you have. You seem so happy, a smile appearing on his cheeks as he watches you smile gleefully and so..so..carefree. You're finally allowing yourself to have fun, and not worrying about protecting everyone else around you. And Gods.. you’re breathtaking.
He would never admit to a living soul, or a non-living one for that matter, but he had been infatuated with you since the moment you asked him to join your party. You made him weak, and with his newfound freedom he wasn’t sure what the correct way to deal with it was. Obviously he could use his charm to lure you into his bedroll, but he wanted more, he wanted to be the reason you felt giddy enough to show your teeth with a smile. He wanted to be the reason you laughed, and fooled around, the reason you felt safe enough to have fun.
He takes a deep breath in, to regain his confidence and charm, and he proceeds towards the two of you.
Until his voice filled your ears and caused your eyes to shoot in his direction, “Well well..don’t you look nice.”
“Astarion!” He approached the two of you slowly, staring at you and paying no mind to Karlach’s presence.
“I’m gonna leave you two alone..” Karlach let out an awkward chuckle, making eye contact with you with wiggly eyebrows before sneaking away.
You look back towards Astarion, who is unable to make eye contact with you as his eyes roam along your body, preoccupied. You're certain he doesn't even realise Karlach has left from beside the two of you.
“Where did you get this pretty thing?” He looks back up to meet your eyes, smirk big enough to show his fangs which sends a nervous shiver through your body. A tingle in your neck reminds you of the favour you allowed him. Your arms cross against your chest, suddenly more nervous in his presence than ever before.
“Just something I picked up from a merchant..”
“In all the time I’ve traveled by your side , I’ve never seen you look so.. elegant.”
“Wow thanks..” You roll your eyes with a snort, crossing your arms tighter across your chest.
“Now c’mon darling..you know I mean you no disrespect. Only pointing out the obvious. May I?” At first you're unsure what he’s even asking permission for, but when you see his hands reaching out to touch you, you give him a nod.
He doesn’t hesitate, hands finding your hips. “See…usually you’re wearing that menacing leather, always so serious.” Your face scrunches up at his words, you’ve never thought your armour to be very menacing nor did you believe you were ‘always serious’. Only when the situation called for it.
The heat of his skin can be felt even through the fabric. His thin fingers squeeze into the plush of your hips, then run along your waist, feeling the fabric between his fingers. “But right now, in this dress, with your hair undone,” He brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hairs, “You look so free. You’re beautiful darling..so beautiful.”
You feel your face relax, and it only softens more when Astarions eyes meet yours once more and his pupils are blown . The softest smile blossoms on his face, which turns out to be contagious cause not soon after a cheek burning smile is on your face. Face hot as you look into his eyes, his hands still on your waist, thumbs massaging your skin through your dress.
“I should take it off, I don’t want to get it dirty.”
“Could you humor me?”
“Humor you? How so, Astarion?”
“Keep it on, just for an hour. It’s been a long time since I spent an evening with a woman as beautiful as you..”
#astarion#astarion x reader#baldurs gate astarion#x reader#oneshot#drabble#female reader#baldur's gate 3#fem reader#bdg3#bg3#bg3 astarion
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“well, well, well.” 😬
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#lae’zel#astarion#wyll ravengard#this scene was genuinely the funniest thing 😭😭 its based off that denaerys and thor meme if you cant tell#anyways im so obsessed with them and the oneshot GAH thats all 💗‼️
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elegant and erotic
astarion x fem!reader
Summary: You ask Astarion for help putting on a dress, but he has another idea brewing when you're alone with him.
warnings: quickie, cumming inside, piv sex, dirty talk
word count: 1.8k
a/n: drops this. runs away to my final exam study session. i came up with this idea (a while ago) and it's rotted my brain so much that it's now a quickie fic. enjoy xx
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Stupid. Godsdamned. Dress.
How in the hells did you get this on at the shop?
You were already sweating from the layers of makeup painted on in the early morning. Now you couldn’t figure out which strap went where and how you were going to be comfortable in it all night long.
Stood in a cluttered bathroom, you hadn’t even wanted to put the dress on your body yet. Whose idea was this perplexing design?
With it still left on the hanger, you padded over to the door and cracked it open an inch, your eyes darting around to the individuals that were still in the room. Mostly everyone was tending to themselves, except for one who wasn’t, in the corner of the room, checking his nails.
Astarion.
Your gaze dropped to the floor. Maybe you should just figure out how to put the dress on by yourself rather than bother the silver haired elf. Who you’ve been attracted to since you could remember. Called you darling and never left a bruise when he fed from you.
Risk putting it on wrong? Ripping a hole in it? Shit. No. His fine tailoring…
No, you’d just have to suffer through the way he made you feel for his help.
“Psst. Astarion. Astarion!”
His elven ears twitched at your call, attention immediately catching you peeking out from behind the bathroom door.
“Yes, darling? Something wrong with your dress?”
You almost melted hearing it again.
“Yes- Well- no, nothing’s wrong with it. I just.” You sigh, “I’m having a hard time getting it on. Could you help me?”
Astarion’s mouth ran dry.
Help you into your outfit? Touch you?
He’d be hard pressed to refuse you anything.
“Of course, dear. How could I say no?”
Would he really be the first one to see you in the finished product he put every inch of his skill into?
Gods, he felt so honored.
Reluctantly you stepped backwards, opening the door for him to enter, and he slipped into the room faster than light. You were still in just your undergarments, standing awkwardly by the sink.
All of his strength was dedicated to not letting his eyes wander on how your breasts sit so perfectly in the brassiere, and your waist, ugh, your curves. As if the gods made you with every intention of ruining him.
Astarion clears his throat and walks over to where your dress hangs over by the wardrobe. He stops for a moment, admiring the perfectly tailored dress that was made to fit your body specifically.
What a piece, he thought to himself. If he’d have known you were the recipient of such a garment, he would’ve taken more care with his stitching and made sure it was easy for you to put on. Although… he’s not completely upset about it. You’ve got him in an isolated room asking for his help putting your dress on. There was nothing more perfect than that.
He unzipped the material and turned back to you.
“Here, darling. Step into it. Much easier than trying to fit it over your head.”
That name. The one he called you on many an occasion. It was your favorite, but he needn't know.
One of your hands grasped his shoulder, stepping into the garment carefully. You almost stumble into him, but quickly catch your balance. Shame you didn’t, it would’ve been another excuse to have his hands on you.
Astarion can’t ever forget the moments he’s flirted with you here and there, ever so lightly as to leave room for you to make a move if you so chose. But after this morning of getting ready had passed, he probably wouldn’t get the chance to ever see you in this dress again.
Situated around your waist now, he greedily runs his fingertips down your back, his cool skin a stark difference to the heat field bathroom. You tried and failed to hide the shudder that ran up your spine, letting a smirk grow across his lips.
Astarion’s fingers slipped around your waist, dragging upward as he did the zipper.
“You know, you look most ravenous in this dress. A shame I won’t get to see you in it again after today.”
His compliment threw you off guard, especially when he used that sultry tone.
“Truly a shame,” he started again, “I’m planning on etching this vision before me into my mind for a later time.”
Astarion’s nose brushed against the side of your ear, taking a long inhale of your scent. With the way he exhaled, it was most satisfying to his senses. Your eyes met in the mirror, before you pulled yours away, afraid you’d blush and blow your cover. But little to your knowledge, it had already been gone.
You turned around to face him, knowing smirk already plastered on his face. Those red eyes darted downwards and then back up to your face before licking his lips.
His hand snaked around your waist again, pulling you flush against his body with nowhere to go but closer to him.
“Astarion… what’re you doing?”
“Don’t act like I can’t smell the lust in your body growing every second we’re in here together. And we both know you didn’t invite me in here just to help you dress, darling.”
There’s that name again. Bringing a blush to your cheeks.
This was it. You were already putty in his hands. Time to make a move.
“It would be most devious to get up to anything right now. but… you’ll be so busy later, I'm not sure if you’ll even see me in the crowd of men wanting to dance with you.”
“Oh, shut up, Astarion.”
You gripped the collar of his ruffled shirt and closed your lips around his. Just as you thought, sweet like rosemary, the same way he always smelled. The way he kissed, with a hunger but still tenderly, was something you fantasized about as well.
Gods, he was good at it.
His other hand gripped your side as well, spinning you around so his behind pressed against the side of the sink. Pulling you in again, one of his hands traveling down past your behind to hike your thigh up onto his body.
“I’ve been thinking about this- you- for ages…” You speak, pulling away from his mouth for a moment.
“The way you look right now… makes me want to wreck you. Smudge your makeup and mark your pretty skin up with my teeth.” The vampire said in reply, pushing the length of fabric up your leg, revealing your supple, soft skin. “Wondering ceaselessly what it feels like…to be inside you…”
His proximity along with those words had you clenching around the hot air between your bodies.
“Feel this?” He took your hand, placing it upon the outline of his hardened cock. “It’s just for you.”
“I want you… to fuck me… here… right now…” you panted.
Astarion’s palm ran up your sides, grasping at the supple flesh of your breasts. It was easy to slip the other between your legs, finding you completely soaked already.
“Since when did you become so naughty?”
“You just do it to me…”
“And all ready to take me… seems you’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”
When you nodded, he said nothing else, reaching for his belt buckle and undoing it with haste. He was already hard as it seemed, the moment he saw you in his dress. Along with how badly he wanted to see it on the floor. But fucking you in it? He’d be fine with that, too.
His cock sprung up, already hardened and eager to find solace inside your walls. You knew he was just as eager when you felt his tip at your entrance, sliding through your slick folds and over your clit to tease.
“Astarion.. Before we… you can’t make a mess of me like this…”
“Guess I’ll have to come inside then…” Astarion smirked, pushing inside torturously slow.
The delicious feeling of him splitting you open was followed by a louder than desired sound exiting your lips. The elf knew this would happen, placing his hand over your mouth and lowering his voice as he bottomed out inside you.
“Shh, my love. We wouldn’t want everyone to hear what we’re getting up to in here, now would we?”
You shook your head in reply.
“Good girl.”
He’s lucky his hand is there to muffle the pathetic way you moaned from his praise.
When he slides back out, angling himself differently and pressing back into you, he kisses the sweet spot inside you like a cherub with an arrow. His thrusts start slow, letting you adjust to him, then picks up speed with your leg around his waist.
Astarion’s grunting is in time with each drag of his cock along your walls, already sending you into a blissed out state. You’re bouncing on his cock, and you can’t even register it in your mind yet. How did you get here again? Something something help with your dress? Your mind closes off to any other thought than the pretty elf. All you desire now is to ride him till you see stars.
No doubt in your mind Astarion’s hips are talented with the sparks shooting through you at every next thrust.
“You’re… so… beautiful… fuck… love seeing you absolutely ruined in something so perfectly crafted.”
You move his hand out of the way to whisper, “Wouldn’t want anyone else to make dresses for me… you have every measurement of my body…”
The quick slapping of skin turns feral in a flash when he reaches down to toy with your sensitive clit, triggering your walls to clench around him and spur him on even further.
“Mmh…” you muffle your moans as best you could before uttering, “I’m going to… Ah- I’m–”
It only takes one more flick of his thumb over your clit and you’re toppling over the edge, encouraging him to do so as well with every rhythmic pulse over his length.
“Ah.. ah… Darling, I’m coming…”
His cock presses fully into you, noticing it twitch with release as his warm cum fills you to the brim. With no time for pleasantries, he pulls out, knowing you’d be keeping him inside you all day, whether physically or not. He kisses you again, moving a lock of hair out of your face and then placing one on your cheek before carefully smoothing the long tresses of your gown.
“There. Like nothing even happened.” He admires how you look, even if he wouldn’t get to savor it for long.
“I’m sure my flushed cheeks will say enough after you walk out of here.” Your gaze doesn’t leave him, heart still pounding in your chest as he tidies himself up. Grabbing a bottle of hairspray, he does one quick layer on his hair and blots his face and yours with a setting powder.
“Much better. I’ll let the others know you’re ready.”
“Wait,” You grab his wrist as he heads for the door, “Astarion… I have a room at the tavern booked for tonight… with a queen bed…”
He turns back, pulling you into a passionate kiss, before replying.
“Then I'll see your delicious self tonight.”
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a/n: might write a part two soon to this. teehee
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Busker
Astarion x Reader (Fluff)
| Astarion Masterlist | AO3 Link |
Summary: When the party discovers they don’t have enough gold to rent the room at the Elfsong Tavern, you come through for your friends by channeling your Bardic talents into an unforgettable performance.
Rating: General Audiences
Author Note: Gender neutral Reader/Tav, they/them pronouns (if any). No physical description given of Reader, race neutral and body type neutral. Reader wears a Bard’s outfit, but no description is given of the outfit, just a mention of what the outfit consists of (blazer, shirt, trousers, boots).
CW: None.
Word Count: 3,916
“We’ve only been in Baldur’s Gate for five minutes, how are we already out of gold???”
That was a little bit of an exaggeration on your part. It had been a couple hours since you all had passed through the archway into Baulder’s Gate proper, but your companions understood the sentiment.
Despite the exasperated look on your face, the question was mostly rhetorical. Everyone knew why the gold reserves had dwindled so quickly. It was due to a combination of upgrading equipment and restocking camp supplies. Both of these had been desperately needed as battles had gotten increasingly difficult as you made your way to the city and Gale could only make potato’s so many ways before you were all sick of them.
Which was saying a lot since you all normally loved potatoes.
But the idea of a balanced meal wasn’t that comforting when you’d finally found an inn that not only could accommodate you all, but could also accommodate you all for as long as you needed for a single flat fee when you discovered you couldn’t even afford that.
Everyone was looking forward to being out of the elements, to sleeping in real beds again and to having access to a hot bath. Eating potatoes for a few more days would’ve been a small price to pay for those luxuries.
“I could part with some of my books,” Gale said, hesitation in his voice. “Sorcerous Sundries pays well for magical tomes. A few of my rarer ones should be able to get us the room.”
“Absolutely not,” Karlach said, shaking her head. “You’ve worked your ass off on that collection.” Gale looked visibly relieved. “Ya know, back before I started working for Gortash, I used to fight at the arena. It was always a good way to make some quick coin.”
“No,” you said, sighing. “Your heart could go out at any moment. We’re better off with you saving your strength for the fighting we still have ahead of us.”
Karlach thought about this then nodded with a sigh.
“Good point, Solder,” she said, looking visibly disappointed.
“Perhaps I could -“ Astarion started saying as he wiggled the fingers of one hand in the air.
“No!” everyone said at the same time, shooting him looks of disapproval.
Astarion scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at them.
“You don’t even know what I was about to suggest!” he said, an indignant tone in his voice.
“You’re not picking pockets again,” Wyll said, also crossing his arms over his chest and glaring right back at him.
“Tchk, you think we forgot what happened the last time?” Lae’zel scoffed.
Astarion threw his arms up in exasperation.
“That was not my fault!” he exclaimed. “How was I supposed to know that guard was going to round the corner right as I was lifting a wallet?”
“Regardless, we lost more gold bribing the guard to keep you out of jail than we would’ve gained from the theft,” Jaheira said.
“And you shouldn’t have wasted the gold!” Astarion protested loudly. “Honestly, I could’ve broken myself out!”
The argument quickly grew heated, as it always did whenever this topic got mentioned, so much so that no one noticed when you slipped away from the group and to your tent.
However, they did notice when you strode past them towards the road that lead back into Rivington. It would’ve been hard not to notice you since you were now decked out in your most colorful Bard finery and stuck out like a sore thumb.
“Darling, where are you off to?” Astarion called towards your retreating back.
“To make us some money!” you called back over your shoulder, not breaking your stride.
The companions all looked at each other incredulously, shrugged at each other and began following you, the argument forgotten for the time being.
By the time you stopped at a particularly busy corner near the Circus of Last days, Karlach had put two and two together and was nearly buzzing with excitement.
“Are we finally getting to hear you play?” Karlach asked as you rummaged in your pack.
“Looks like it,” you said, pulling a tin cup from the bag and depositing it on the ground in front of you.
The Tiefling squeed in excitement and clapped her hands.
Outside of combat, the only times they’d ever heard you play was while tuning your lyre, which didn’t really amount to much, just some casual strumming. Whenever they asked if you’d treat them to a song, you always declined, saying you weren’t particularly inspired for real music at that moment.
But, like most people, you were highly motivated by small luxuries and, when faced with the choice of sleeping outside versus in a nice room, you had found a burst of inspiration.
Once you’d gotten yourself situated, you made shooing motions with your hands to your companions. The party retreated a short distance away to a short wall where they could relax and watch the show.
If you were nervous, there was no indication on your face. Astarion watched as you readied your lyre, closed your eyes, took a couple of deep breaths to center yourself and then strummed your fingers over the chords of the instrument.
But rather than a beautiful melody, the most god awful sound he’d ever heard was produced. Everyone within earshot cringed and a few people passing by stopped to stare.
Your eyes flew open and you glared down at the lyre.
“Now now, we talked about this,” you said to it.
You flashed an apologetic smile to the people nearby who had stopped, then turn back to the lyre with a serious look on your face.
With fluid motions, your fingers glided between the tuning pins and the strings, getting the sound in order. More people had stopped to watch, looks of apprehension on some of their faces. Bards in Baldur’s Gate were a gold a dozen and were either fantastically amazing or astonishingly terrible. There was no in between. But even the terrible ones were usually somewhat entertaining and, with the threat of an invasion looming, people seemed to welcome this brief distraction, even if it cost them their eardrums.
Once the tuning was complete, you smiled triumphantly to the gathering crowd, raised your arm theatrically and then strummed the strings with a flourish.
But all was still not well with the instrument. While some of the strings elicited a beautiful melody, the others sounded somewhere between nails on a blackboard and a dying cow.
The small crowd gasped, a few people made curses of shock. Some covered their ears, including Karlach.
A look of horror came over your face at the sound, which you quickly turned into another apologetic smile for the crowd before turning to your instrument with an almost comical glare.
Astarion narrowed his eyes at you. The lyre shouldn’t have still been out of tune. You had adjusted every pin, plucked every string one by on. It’d taken you a bit longer than it would’ve at camp, he’d watched you do it many times, but the result was the same. It sounded perfect even to his ears and he knew instruments just don’t go out of tune on their own. He leaned forward where he sat, watching your hands carefully as you began tuning it again.
As your fingers began to make adjustments to the pins, he was able to catch onto what was happening. While you turned one pin to tune its corresponding string, you managed to knock the next pin out of tune with your pinky and ring finger. At first, he thought it might be an accident, but then it happened two more times and he began to suspect it was on purpose. You did have some skill in Sleight of Hand, though you rarely used it.
His suspicions were confirmed when you turned back to the crowd with a triumphant look on your face, once again raised your hand with a flourish and confidently rang your fingers over the strings.
This time, the lyre made a sound reminiscent of metal grinding on metal, making your entire body stiffen up in a cringe and illiciting cries of pain from the growing crowd. Some shook their heads as if to clear them, while others stuck a finger in one ear as if working something out, and the kids all covered their ears. Everyone in the crowd had an expression of regret on their faces, ruing the fact that they’d stopped. Yet, none of them left, curiosity now winning out over self preservation.
“I guess we can look forward to another night sleeping in the dirt,” Shadowheart said with a deep sigh.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Astarion said, still watching you closely.
The others all looked at him quizzically and he tilted his head towards you, indicating they should keep watching.
Once again, you hit the crowd with an apologetic smile and laughed nervously, but Astarion could see now how exaggerated it was.
“My apologies everyone,” you said, your voice ringing out loud and clear to the gathered people, then slightly shook your instrument. “Thing’s got a mind of its own sometimes.”
Then you turned towards the lyre with a glare and then pointed an admonishing finger at it.
“Behave,” you said to it, a tone of warning in your voice, earning a few weary chuckles from the crowd.
Once again, you began to tune the instrument, this time turning the pins but not plucking the strings to test them. Your fingers darted back and forth along the pins, working out of sequence but adjusting each one to a slight degree. Once that was done, you flashed a nervous smile to the crowd, then readied yourself to play.
Just as you were about to start playing, your fingers mere inches from the strings, you froze in place, glanced at the audience, then made two more adjustments to pins.
You stood there for a moment afterwards, looking at your lyre with a worried expression, then turned another of the pins, but then you shook your head rapidly, as if in disagreement with yourself, and turned the same pin back to its original position.
After a couple of more worried looks towards the audience and a couple more pin adjustments, you gave a small nod of satisfaction. With one last nervous smile to the crowd, you took up a playing stance that looked more like you were bracing yourself for an explosion rather than playing a lyre, which earned a few apprehensive chuckles from the crowd. You took a few deep breaths, crossed the air with your free hand as you offered up a prayer to the gods, closed your eyes in a tight squint and cringed as you began to play.
This time, instead of some god awful noise no one knew a lyre was capable of producing, a beautiful melody floated off of the strings. Everyone recognized the opening tones of “The Queen’s High Seas” and Astarion could see the crowd visibly relax.
As the temperature of the crowd changed, you opened one eye to look down at your lyre and watched yourself playing for a second before looking up at the crowd in shock. You shook your head as if to clear it and a bright confident smile overtook your face as your posture relaxed. The crowd, now having caught onto your game, laughed appreciatively and a few people clapped.
“Well I’ll be,” Gale said, laughing and clapping his hands along with the crowd. “We might just get that room after all.”
Astarion couldn’t help but chuckle himself. You’d had played the crowd just as skillfully as you were now playing the lyre.
Once the first song was over, you easily transitioned into the more lively tune of “The Bard’s Dance.” Now that you were playing something more upbeat, your swaying turned into dancing and soon your audience was clapping along with the rhythm.
After two more songs, the impromptu performance was broken up by the city guards. There wasn’t anything in the laws of Rivington that prohibited busking, but the crowd had grown large enough it was spilling out into the street and blocking traffic.
You took your bows as the crowd began to disperse, dropping gold coins into the tin cup as they left.
The companions made their way back over to you as you were counting your earnings.
“That was incredible!” Karlach exclaimed, clapping you on the back and nearly knocking you over. “You’re really good, Solider!”
“Indeed!” Wyll said, beaming at you. “That was as fine as any performance I’ve ever seen!”
“With talent like that I’m surprised you don’t play more often,” Shadowheart said.
“I reserve it for special occasions,” you said with a shrug, then shook your coin purse. “Good news though. We’re a quarter of the way there. Shouldn’t take much longer and the room will be ours.”
That news brightened everyone’s spirits considerably.
A few hours, and a few street corners, later, you were all sitting round a table in the tavern at the Elfsong. Not only had you made enough gold to pay for the room upstairs but also a veritable feast for the party and several rounds of drinks. Since no one could decide what they wanted, the wooden surface was laden down with one of everything that was on the menu.
While Astarion didn’t partake in the food portion of the evening, he could tell it was good by how none of you really spoke as you dug in. There was the occasional yummy sound or one of you would tell the others to try a particular dish, but apart from that, talking was kept to a minimum.
As everyone’s bellies began filling up, regular conversation resumed and soon turned towards planning the next steps of their journey. Now that you all had made it Baldur’s Gate, it was time to decide where to go from here. Since the day had waned into the evening, everyone agreed to an early night and to set out for Sorcerous Sundries in the morning.
But planning an early night and actually getting an early night were two completely different things. Once the tavern bard took to the stage and the drinks continued to flow, this plan was quickly forgotten. Several hours passed in the blink of an eye.
As the bard was leaving the stage for a break after his second set, Astarion realized you’d been quiet for a bit and turned towards you only to find your chair empty. That took him a bit by surprise. It wasn’t like you to slip off without saying anything. Concerned, he excused himself from the table and went looking for you. It took a few minutes, but he finally located you when he checked the room upstairs. You were face down on your claimed bed, arms down by your sides with your still booted feet hanging off the edge.
“Darling, are you alright?” he said, voice laden with concern as he came over to sit next to you.
“Mmhmm,” came your response, muffled by the pillow you had your face in.
“Are you sure?” he said, placing one hand on your back to start rubbing it in a circular motion.
“Yeah, I am,” you said, and then moved your arms under your body so you could prop yourself up on your elbows and look at him. “I just always forget how exhausting performing is.”
Now that your face was visible, it was very apparent how tired you were. You looked even more worn down than you had after fighting through Moonrise Towers with the Harpers, which was surprising considering how prolonged that battle had been.
Having never been a stage performer himself, Astarion couldn’t relate to your current predicament, but he tried his best to be understanding.
“With all that dancing it’s no wonder,” he said, a soothing tone in his voice as he continued to rub your back. “I’d be more surprised if you weren’t tired.”
“It wasn’t just the dancing,” you said, moving your arms so they were folded on top of your pillow and then laid your head down on them. “Engaging with the crowd, keeping the energy going to keep their attention, making eye contact, talking with people at the end…I’m just as drained mentally as I am physically.”
Now that was something Astarion could understand. Back when he was still under Cazador’s thumb, he had to work the parties that regularly got thrown at the estates. Mingling with the nobles, engaging with guests, working with the servants to fix any problems that arose so the night would go off without a hitch…it was all incredibly exhausting.
“Is that why you don’t play at camp?” he asked.
You nodded.
“Yeah,” you replied. “Once I get started, I can’t help but go into a full performance like that, even for a small audience. It’s against my nature as a performer to do anything simple.”
Astarion couldn’t help but chuckle. He could see that considering how theatrical you get when casting spells during combat.
“Would you like for me to get a bath ready for you?” he asked, now running his hand up and down your back.
You thought about it for a moment then shook your head.
“I’m too tired for that,” you said, your eyes closing. “Could you keep rubbing my back though? It feels really nice.”
“Of course,” he said.
It didn’t take long before your breathing began to take on a slower rhythm indicating you’d soon be asleep. Astarion took a hold of your shoulder and gently shook you.
“Can you roll over for me, darling?” he asked, his tone soft and gentle. “Let’s get you more comfortable.”
You grumbled, but did as he asked, turning over to lay on your back, eyes still closed. Now that he had better access, he rose from the bed and started taking your boots off. Once that was done, he helped you sit up to remove your blazer.
“Do you want to change into your night clothes?”
You shook your head again, so Astarion unbuttoned the collar and cuffs of your shirt, as well as the first few buttons down the front, and helped you untuck it from your trousers. While it wasn’t as loose as the shirt you normally slept in, that gave you more room to move around.
Once he’d helped you squirm under the covers, you immediately curled up underneath them into your normal sleeping position. He sat back down then, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead.
“Stay with me for a bit?” you asked, your voice quiet and on the verge of sleep.
While he knew how you felt about him and you never made any secret about how much you cared, sometimes he had his doubts. It was hard to believe sometimes that he could be so lucky. But in moments like these, moments when your thoughts slipped out as you teetered on the verge of wakefulness and sleep, his inner doubts quieted. It made him feel what he could only assume was the feeling of butterflies.
“Of course, my love,” he said, his voice soft as to not disturb your relaxation.
While he wasn’t quite tired enough to go to sleep himself, he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to hold you while you slept. It had become one of his favorite things.
Forgoing his normal sleeping clothes in order to quickly lay down with you, he made himself more comfortable in much the same way he had helped you. His boots were removed, the collar and cuffs of his shirt unbuttoned, and he untucked his shirt from his pants.
As he climbed under the covers, he noticed you were fighting to keep your eyes open to wait on him. Once he was situated, you scooted over to curl up against him, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
“Goodnight, my love,” he said softly, kissing the top of your head.
You muttered something that sounded like goodnight and it wasn’t long after that you fell asleep.
As the sound of your breathing slowed into the low rhythm of sleep, Astarion couldn’t help but think of the future. Now that you all had reached Baldur’s Gate, he imagined things would begin to escalate quickly, but there was still so much to do. There were quite a few people the party needed to meet up with, you had a lead on where to find Shadowheart’s parents, plus your new friend at the circus had asked you to find Dribbles the Clown. Or, rather, what was left of him, at any rate. And then there was the small matter of killing Cazador.
Astarion’s arms unconsciously tightened around you as his thoughts turned towards his former master.
Despite all of the confidence and bravado he displayed whenever he talked to you about it, the prospect of returning to the Crimson Palace unsettled him. He was terrified, but he knew if you knew that you’d try to talk him out of going, to let you and the others handle it while he stayed behind at camp. You’d already floated the idea to him once, but there was absolutely no way he was going to miss out on Cazador’s bloody and, hopefully agonizingly painful, last moments. After two hundred years of torture, he’d more than earned that right.
And then there was the matter of the Rite of Profane Ascension. Was he really going to take Cazador’s place and ascend in his stead?
He still had no idea. Despite the determination he showed you whenever the topic came up, he was deeply unsure if it was the right thing to do. He didn’t want to lose what little humanity he had left, become a hard and cruel monster as his master was. But what choice did he have if he wanted to keep you safe, to keep himself safe? Once the tadpoles were gone, he’d be nocturnal once again, relegated back to the shadows and unable to protect you in the daytime hours. He shuddered at the thought of something happening to you just because he couldn’t go outside half the time.
All of these thoughts combined into a loop of despair in his mind, only broken when the sound of your drunken companions finally coming upstairs to retire for the night. The noise startled him from his thoughts, and you stirred in his arms.
While you didn’t fully wake from your slumber, your sleep was disturbed just enough that you moved around into a different position. You turned onto you other side within the circle of his arms, facing away from him. Astarion moved his body with yours, turning with you so he was curled up behind you, the front of his body pressed against the back of yours. In this new position, he was able to bury his face against the side of your neck and breathe in your scent. Your smell was comforting to him and felt himself relax.
Now that the spiral of his thoughts were broken, he took this as a sign to stop thinking for the night get some rest. It took a little while, but between the lullaby of your soft snores and the steady beat of your heart, his worries about the coming days fades and he eventually drifted off into a meditative state.
#Astarion#astarion x you#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion fluff#astarion fanfiction#astarion imagine#astarion oneshot#astarion headcanons#astarion romance#bard tav#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 x reader#baldur’s gate 3 x reader
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That It Is (Astarion)
Pairing: Astarion x Reader [Baldur's Gate 3]
Summary: After a long day trudging through the sunlit wetlands, you discover your bedroll is waterlogged, and that Astarion has lost his in the swamp... AKA, the classic: ‘oh no, there’s one bed, whatever shall we do, darling?’ (Act 1 spoilers).
A/N This one has a tad more enemies-to-lovers vibe to it, but sweetness nonetheless.
Masterlist
Night was creeping over Faerûn.
After a day of toiling through the deep murk of the sunlit wetlands, your party had found refuge: an abandoned shack a little ways inland from the swamp. It was unassuming enough through the fog that Gale had tripped over its porch, and even Astarion’s darkvision had missed the contours of the old building tucked away.
But once scoped, you found that the place was empty. Shadowheart deemed it safe enough for you to unpack your bedrolls and dry your waterlogged boots. So you did just that—even managing to rouse a fire with an ignis and a few pieces of damp wood.
The flames took a few moments to blaze to life, but once they did, the warmth was heavenly on your skin. One by one, you started to shed your wet outer garments, laying them out by the fire.
“Oh, bloody hells!”
A voice rang out over the crackling hearth. You turned to find Astarion on his knees, rummaging through his supply pack half-deranged.
He flung the contents out onto the floor: some soggy books, a cask of water, pristinely-folded clothes. Then he promptly turned the pack upside down, seemingly devestated to find nothing else inside.
The rogue threw his hands up. “Gone,” he declared, with a dejected sort of laugh. “Be it just my luck after trudging through this gods forsaken waste—”
From the corner of the room, Shadowheart stopped wringing out her gloves. She gave you a look. Deal with him, she said through the shared connection.
With a sigh, you conceded. “What’s wrong, Astarion?” You stood over the pale elf, hand on hip, “Broken a nail?”
Irritation painted his face, but his demeanour remained playful.“Ha! Hilarious as always, my dear,” he replied, without sparing you so much as a glance. “Alas, I’m afraid my situation is a tad more dire.”
You clicked your tongue. “Go on.”
Astarion stood up, taking a moment to dust himself off. “It seems I’ve lost my bedroll somewhere in that bloody marsh,” he finally admitted.
Somewhere across the room, Shadowheart’s snort was quickly covered up by a faux cough from Gale. “Oh?” you said, “I thought elves didn’t need to sleep.”
Astarion shot you a glare. “And do you need to dry your clothes by the fire? Need to eat tonight or, gods forbid, drive us half mad with your infernal singing sometime tomorrow?”
He stalked the cabin, pointing vivaciously at your drying garments, and menial rations you’d hoped wouldn’t spoil.
You felt your brow furrow at his display. “No need to be rude,” you said shortly. “Today’s been hard on all of us.” Pushing past him, you quickly retrieved your own pack from its place near the door. “Here—just take mine.”
Fishing around the bag, you searched for your own bedroll before producing it for him. Astarion let out a sound of disgust.
“You could at least try to be grateful, Astarion,” you started. Then you felt it; your trusted bedroll squelched in your hand. It was pasted with a layer of thick algae, and some other mysteries you couldn’t discern. “Son of a—” you cursed. How had you forgotten when it rolled into the marsh earlier in the day?
A hand found your shoulder. “Thanks for the generous offer, my dear, but I think I’ll pass,” Astarion said, proudly. He then flicked a rather large leech off your bedroll, causing Gale to shriek when it landed at his feet. “I’d like to remain the only bloodsucker around here.”
You were about to quip back, when Astarion stepped closer—enough so that his breath dusted your cheek when he spoke. “And I think I spy a bed in the other room. That should do me just fine.”
It took you a moment to unravel his words. By the time you did, he’d already traipsed halfway across the cabin. “Hang on a moment,” you called after him,“I already staked my claim on that earlier!”
“Hmm?” the elf hummed, feigning ignorance.
The audacity. You shot a glance back at the wizard, who immediately threw his hands up in surrender. “Oh no, you don’t,” warned Gale, “I’m staying out of this one.”
To his left, Shadowheart looked equally unbothered by your plight. You scowled at them both.
It was going to be a long night.
—
The cabin was quiet. It had been some time since you had rested in a place with a roof and four walls. There were no beasties lurking near your camp, or dangers beyond the trees. The only threat to your person was Gale’s snores coming from the main living space. He’d taken refuge on the floor, whilst Shadowheart seized the chaise lounge.
It was a comfortable night. So in principle, you should have had no problem falling into a dreamless sleep. Especially given the feather bed at your back.
“You know, my dear,” Astarion whispered, “I might have agreed to this arrangement, but that was under the condition that you get some sleep.”
You tried not to startle, but his words sounded so close to your ear. It made your skin prickle with anticipation—despite doing your utmost not to show it.
“I think you’ll find I was the one who was forced to agree,” you countered, “and I’m trying. You just—”
Shifting in the bed, you turned around to face the elf beside you. He was leaning on one arm, gazing up at the wooden ceiling as though he were watching the stars. His eyes found yours. “I what?” he asked.
You could hear his grin; he was teasing you. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of backing down now. “You make me nervous,” you answered bluntly.
He did not reply. Each second of silence that passed made you more and more uneasy. You couldn’t see him well in the dark. And as much as you tried to make out the contours of his face, you knew for sure discern every line on yours—every expression you hoped to conceal. “And why’s that?” he finally asked.
You let out a huff before falling onto your back. “You know why. Stop acting so smug—It doesn’t suit you."
Astarion’s laugh made its way to you. “Everything suits me, darling.”
A witty remark alluded you, so you opted to stay quiet. Sleep was what you needed right now. The gods only know how deprived you were of it.
So you plumped your pillow and made yourself comfortable. Then you gathered some blankets to yourself. A yawn left you, but your mind felt anything but relaxed. You readjusted again, this time your body pressing into Astarion's. He moved to accomodate you; you stiffened in response.
“Will you stop wriggling around? I can’t so much as move without you flinching."
At his words, your breath hitched. You were midway through an apology before he interrupted.
“Look at me,” he said.
Despite the darkness, his thumb perfectly traced your jaw until it found the space just under your chin. Gently, he coaxed your head up.
“You know I’ve drank from you, right?” You gasped at his candidness. “I've felt your pulse on my tongue and your blood coat my teeth,” he went on. “Hells, I have your thoughts swimming in my head far more often than you probably realise.”
He paused for a moment, and in that time you breathed twice as fast as you ought to.
“You’ve allowed me that much, so sleeping beside me like this?” he said, with a lightness to his voice, “that shouldn’t matter, now should it.”
You couldn't reply. His words were likely meant to comfort, but they had only the opposite effect. As his fingers brushed your cheek, you immediately pulled back—hoping he did not feel the way you burned for him.
“No. I guess not?” you stuttered.
“Good,” came his reply. “Now sleep. I promise I won’t bite”
He returned to his side of the bed, not overstepping the invisible boundary you'd drawn earlier that evening.
And on your side, you were left to press down whatever feelings threatened to bubble to the surface. You weren’t quite ready to let them out yet—not when you couldn’t see clearly the face he would make in response.
Right now, you just needed to sleep.
So you focused on the snores echoing from the other room, the rain pattering the windows, Astarion's breaths and your heart—which, without realising, had recently started to beat for him.
“Goodnight, Astarion,” you whispered into the dark.
“Yes, my dear," he said softly. "That it is."
#astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x mc#bg3#astarion x oc#astarion x tav#astarion x y/n#astarion x you#baldur's gate 3#bg3 fanfic#astarion fanfic#astarion acunin#astarion fanfiction#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 oneshot#bg3 x reader
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Eat Your Young
Astarion and Tav take advantage of the rainy weather in camp. Pure smut, no plot.
Pairings: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: smut, p in v sex, swearing. 18+ MINORS DNI
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: Listen, usually I like a lil plot but Astarion sometimes deserves just some good ole smut, right?! Also inspired by the Hozier song, "Eat Your Young"
REMINDER: my inbox is open for requests!
Astarion's hand roughly ran down your neck, the candles in his tent casting shadows over the space. He hissed in pleasure as his fingers gracefully found your collarbone, his nails tickling the skin around your neck. You groaned, your eyes fluttering closed.
"This is not what I came in here for." You said, even though you knew that was a lie.
Well, partly.
Basically since the beginning of your adventure with the companions, you and Astarion had found yourselves drawn to each other. First as friends, but then quickly into a sexual situation. A way to satiate yourselves, and to have a bit of shining light in the darkness that was all the doom and gloom and battle and blood.
"Oh?" Astarion asked, his mouth dangerously close to your neck, "And what did you actually come in here for?" His voice was melodic, almost a purr. You felt his fangs lightly drag across your neck - enough to leave a scratch, but not enough to break skin. You gasped.
"F-for the book," You were able to choke out, one of your hands finding his hair. You ran your fingers through his locks, earning a quick moan from Astarion, "The book I lent you last week. I know you're done reading it, so-"
"You came all the way across camp in a rain storm for a book you could easily get from me tomorrow?" He pulled away, his eyes twinkling. It was bullshit, and he knew it. "Is that why both of our clothes are off, and were discarded on the floor within 45 seconds of you coming into my tent, my pet?"
"Um..." You bit your lip and both of you smiled, "I'm easily distracted." You tried to argue, but Astarion's lips were on you again, his tongue quickly finding yours. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed his body on yours, his erection pressing into your stomach. Thunder clapped outside, causing you to jump, which caused Astarion to wrap his arm around your back tighter, bringing you closer.
"What do you want, my darling? Tell me," He pulled away from your mouth, but his lips were still touching yours. Your heart pounded in your chest from his breath on your face, "Tell me what you want." His voice was velvet smooth, causing your stomach to clench. You groaned, unable to stop yourself - how did this fucking man know exactly what to say, and exactly what to do to get you going?
"I want your cock in my mouth," You said quickly, it coming out as one breath. His eyebrows raised and he smirked, wordlessly pushing himself to the edge of the bed to give you space. Looking down at his erection, you felt a wave of heat rush to your clit, unable to contain yourself.
Before he could even lay down, your mouth was on his cock hungrily. He moaned in surprise, his voice echoing off the tent walls. Immediately your mouth filled with spit as you worked on his thick member, using your tongue the exact way you knew he loved. His hands found their way into your hair and pulled, causing you to grip the blankets underneath your hands.
"Hells, you're so fucking good," Astarion grumbled, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, "Deeper." He commanded.
You made your way fully down on his member, causing his hips to buck in your mouth. You felt your eyes water a bit, and pulled up, taking your mouth completely off of his cock. "Does that feel good?" You toyed, pumping him in your hand. He moved his head back to look at you, his eyes a deep red. You watched the end of his mouth turn up in the shadow of a smile.
Suddenly, the rain started to beat harder against the tent walls.
In one swift movement, Astarion's hand grabbed your chin, pull you on top of him. His member, slick with your spit and precum, slid against your body, causing you to gasp. He looked between your eyes before hungrily crashing his lips against yours again, this time pulling your hair roughly.
"Not as good as it'll feel when I'm inside of you." He said in your ear, before biting your lobe. You moaned loudly, the noise getting lost in the rain.
"Then fuck me."
"Say please."
"Please, Astarion! I need you."
"You need me to what?"
"To fuck me. I need your dick inside of me." You reached down to his cock and started to pump him again, causing Astarion to erupt a small moan from his lips. He looked into your eyes one final time before he flipped you below him.
"On your stomach." He said, waiting patiently. He was sitting high up on his knees, looking down on you. Now, his cock was in his own hand and he stroked it slowly, taking the full length of his member in his palm. He didn't break eye contact as you got on your belly. Soon, you felt him spread your legs gently, and his body weight pressed on top of you.
"I'm going to fuck you so good, you'll be screaming to the gods by the end of it." He murmured in your ear. You shuddered at his voice, and soon you felt him lining himself up at your entrance.
"Oh, Astarion..." You breathe, your thoughts becoming a jumbled mess. You heard him chuckle before he continued on.
"Are you ready?" He asked. You felt like you couldn't speak, your stomach was so clenched in anticipation. You nodded, and almost instantly his cock was deep inside of you, sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body. You called out, lifting your head. As you lifted your head, Astarion took hold of your hair and pulled.
"Gods, you are so fucking tight." He groaned, every word accentuated by a thrust inside of you. You clapped you hand over your mouth so you wouldn't cry out, but he pulled it away, "Don't. I want everyone to hear."
"Fuck, Astarion!" You called out, his hands finding your hips for better leverage. You felt a heat start to rise within you, causing you to breath harder. "Don't stop! Right there-"
"Right there?" He purred, his voice teasing, "Right there and I'm going to make my good girl come?"
"Yes!" You moaned, his voice ripping through you, "Yes right there and I'm going to come. Don't stop!"
The sound of his cock pounding into you filled the tent as your mind became foggy. The pleasure started to soften the sides of your vision as Astarion gripped your hips, definitely leaving marks for tomorrow. As your words turned into incoherent noises, you felt Astarion thrust into you harder, making sure you felt filled.
"Show me you're a good girl," He murmured, his voice steady; in control. As Astarion often was - in control. It drove you crazy, usually the catalyst in tipping you over the edge. "Be my good girl and come for me."
Finally, you felt yourself spill over him as you cried out his name - the heat rose completely in you and for a moment, Astarion stopped thrusting in you, taking his hands and wrapping them around your waist, so that he could feel your orgasm completely. With your head so close to his, he whispered words of praise in your ear - "Good girl. That's it - come for me. Let me feel it. Give me all of it."
You panted, your thoughts finally starting to align again. As you regained control of your body, Astarion gently flipped you over. Spreading your legs open, he entered you again slowly, earning a whimper from you. Two thrusts in and he caused you to throw your head back, crying his name.
"That's it - that's my girl," He hissed, speeding his thrusts up slowly, "Let me see that pretty face, darling. Your pretty face is going to make me come."
"Astarion, FUCK. You feel so good!" You couldn't help yourself as he started again, one of his hands finding it's way to your erect nipples. He pinched and palmed your tits as they bounced with every thrust - the sight of your body bouncing, and your face calling his name, he wasn't far behind you with an orgasm. But, he wanted it to last...
He wanted to wear you out.
It was always so sexy seeing you struggle in the following days, knowing that he alone was the cause.
"Your cock...feels so good..." You panted, your hands finding their way to his shoulder blades. Thunder clapped again, drowning out the scream you cried as Astarion hit your spot. Once he realized how crazy he was driving you, he smiled.
"All for you," He grunted, "This cock is all for you." Sweat beaded at his temples as he stared into your eyes. They were dark, hungry - he started to get the glint in his eyes that he would before he was sent over the edge.
Astarion pounded into so hard that the bed groaned under the pressure. You could feel Astarion's body start to tense above you, so you gripped Astarion's ass, pushing him deeper into you.
The extra effort made you start to see stars, and Astarion was on the same page; "I'm close," He grunted, touching his forehead to yours, "Hells, you're going to make me come."
"Come for me," You breathed, placing a sloppy, rough kiss on his lips, "Come for me."
Suddenly, Astarion called out your name, and you felt him spill into you. The tension in his body reached his climax and gradually released, his body laying completely on top of you.
The only noise in the tent - besides the pounding rain - was your and Astarion's breathing. The shallow, quick breaths turned into deeper, heftier breaths and you regained your composure, the heating slowly leaving your body.
"Gods, you're beautiful." Astarion murmured, brushing your sweaty hair behind your ear gently. He delicately placed a kiss on your lips as he slid down to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you tight. You sighed contently, running a hand over his side and snuggling your head closer into his shoulder. A moment of silence passed before you spoke.
"I did actually come here for that book, you know." You teased, causing him to chuckle.
"Oh? Would you like me to go get it for you then?" He asked, pretending to get out of bed. You giggled and gently pushed him back down.
"Shut up," You playfully scolded him, "I just wanted to let you know that I didn't just come here to seduce you."
"But darling, it's so much fun getting seduced by you." He looked at you and smirked, his eyes sparkling. You rolled your eyes and placed a kiss on his mouth.
"Well...I guess I'll have to let you borrow my books more often, then."
------
My first time doing smut with no plot - I'm gonna be honest, I don't know how I feel about it yet! What did you all think?
Just a reminder: my inbox is open for requestions!
#astarion bg3#bg3#astarion headcanon#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion#astarion#astarion fan fiction#astarion fanfic#astarion smut#baldurs gate 3#astarion one shot#astarion oneshot
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Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, and Halsin react to being stuck in close proximity with gn crush? - Fluff anon
Notes: My requests are currently open, though limited! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!
Astarion
Initially, Astarion is rather grumpy about the whole situation; being stuck in close proximity with anyone is going to initially make him a little frustrated. He likes having the freedom to move all his limbs as he pleases, thank you very much.
However, it doesn't take him very long to start flirting, or making risqué comments to you. He's of the opinion that, despite you both being stuck together, he might as well have a bit of fun with it whilst it lasts, right? What else is there to do, if not seize the moment to make a few cheeky jokes?
"You know, darling... Things normally happen between two people who are so close..." His voice isn't much above a whisper, but you can hear it loud and clear. "I do believe there may be a game around a situation such as this..." He taps his chin in mock thought. "What say we give it a try~?"
He very much enjoys giving you little, teasing touches. Nothing too risque, they're usually feather-light, the only reason you know he's doing them, is because you can practically see the smirk in those red eyes of his.
Once the pair of you are free, the whole ordeal becomes a little inside joke between the two of you for him, something that he frequently will bring up during your travels together, usually at your expense.
Gale
Gale is incredibly awkward about the entire situation - he tries not to be, he tries to play it off coolly, but alas, it does not work. He's jostling near constantly, his legs always moving in a bid to try and give you more space, and always failing. He just ends up kicking you, which he profusely apologises for every time.
"Oh- sorry, sorry... I didn't mean to- Ouf- Sorry, again-" He falls entirely still for a moment, trying to think of a way out of this little situation. He, obviously, cannot wriggle out of it, lest he bruise your ribs more, nor can he actually see a way out - it was far too dark to make out many details. He would have used his magic, but it felt like any movement only ended up in hitting you, and making the situation ever more tense - and he's not looking to upset you, not in the slightest, he wants the same thing you do! To get out!
After the two of you are finally let out - thanks to a very helpful Karlach - Gale tries to brush over the whole incident. He tries not to touch upon it too much, if at all if he can help it. If you mention it at all, he'll play along in the conversation for a couple of minutes, though his cheeks are bright red, before he excuses himself for anything he can think of - no matter how trivial, or outlandish the thing may be. He doesn't overly like remembering the time he kept accidentally kicking you.
Halsin
Halsin is no small man - entirely the opposite, in fact. Thankfully, though, he is very aware of this. He tries not to move too much outside what is strictly necessary to keep his joints from screaming at him, and he makes sure to move slowly, and with warning. He's constantly mindful that it's not going be easy, being stuck in a confined space with a man who is quite literally as large as a bear.
He's very sweet about the whole thing - constantly asking how you are, and if there's anything you'd like to talk about to keep your mind off of the current situation. He'll only make jokes if you start making them first - he doesn't want to make you feel like he's making fun of you for somehow getting stuck in here with him.
He doesn't try to bash his way out - knowing full well that it may likely hurt you. He just reassures you that all will be alright, soon enough. And it is! He doesn't bring up the incident unless you bring it up first - he knows that some may make comments or assumptions about the predicament, so you touching on the topic first tells him that you're comfortable to talk about it in that moment, and he will almost happily reminisce with you.
#requests open#x reader requests#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#x reader oneshot#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate x reader#fluff#headcanons#astarion baldurs gate#astarion#astarion x reader#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#bg3 gale#gale dekarios x reader#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale x reader#halsin headcanons#halsin baldur's gate 3#halsin x reader#halsin
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Misconceptions
Astarion x OC Tav
TW: Sexual Acts, Sexual Abuse, Assault, Trauma, Argument, Fluff
Blurb: Taking place after the defeat of Cazador, before the Absolute is destroyed, Asra and Astarion are only a few days after Astarion's first free night when they get a room in Elfsong Tavern.
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He was worried. Ever since he confessed his true love for her, spending that night in the graveyard, he noticed things had been off. Although she had always been, off. She was a great leader, and had even taken the Astral-Touched Tadpole in turn for the team. But she seemed almost eager when the Emperor had given it to her. She had always been rather... closed off, even with her looks. She didn't seem to mind civilians staying away from her. Most of Baldur's Gate hated her anyway. Orin was dead, Gortash was dead, so she had busied herself trying to comfort Karlach. The team had prepared to go fight the Absolute, so they were resting in the inn above Elfsong Tavern that evening. Astarion had figured that maybe he could instigate something, perhaps get her to admit what was wrong, or the like. But that night, she wasn't very talkative. She had been having nightmares recently, he could hear her tossing in her bedroll in camp. Tonight she must have been plagued with the same thoughts, because there she sat, thinking. Her long white hair had been taken down, and the gentle curls hung loosely over her shoulders, pooling down behind her as she sat on the bed. Her eyes, once so beautiful in the perfect shade of aquamarine and ultraviolet speckles, was now black. She had gotten a new tattoo to hide half of her face, but other than that... Astarion still thought she was beautiful. Had comforted her many times.
"You're staring." She murmured, turning to fix her eyes distractedly on him. She was still beautiful, even if that pale skin had purple veins on it. Almost had a certain charm to it.
"Well of course, darling. My beautiful lover is right in front of me, dressed in her night clothes." He smirked, trying to tease her as her nightclothes were backless.
"Beautiful." She tsked, almost scolding.
He frowned. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. The tadpole doesn't make you any less beautiful. Besides, you look beautiful enough when you're fighting, love."
"Glad you think so." She stared out the window.
"Hey, you've been... off, recently. Ever since... that night at the graveyard." He spoke slowly, as if buttering a soft, delicate roll. "You seemed... distracted that night."
"I did? Sorry about that." She shrugged it off.
Soon, they had gone to bed. Her breathing made the hair on his neck tingle. He could tell she was upset. She had been. Maybe she was stressed. He knew how to help people relax, perhaps she would be interested. He turned over and ran a hand down her side. She looked back at him.
"What're you doing?"
"Let me... help you darling. Let out some stress, hm?" He leaned over behind her, kissing up the back of her neck. She hesitated, looking away before responding.
"Sure." It seemed so monotone and routine.
He didn't seem to notice, as he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her beneath him. The woman he adored. The one who saved him. He kissed her with all his unbeating heart, his love pouring into the kiss. He was teaching himself that sex was okay. After what Cazador made him do. With her, he didn't feel as much disgust and loathing as he used to. His hands found their regular place on her waist, fingers slipping under her shirt. He didn't take long to undress her, then himself. When he pulled his shirt off, she was gazing off to the side. "You okay?"
"Hm- oh yes, I'm fine." She turned her glossy eyes back on him, pulling him in for a kiss. A movement she had mastered like a dance. The art of lovemaking. It was almost similar to his own movements from his experience, which was strange since she was so young. She was only twenty-two, and she had this experience. But he didn't ponder on it for long, biting her inner thighs before taking a claw and slicing through her underwear. He could sew her new ones.
"Again with the underwear?" His answer was his kisses around her folds, to which she let out a tiny sigh. "Can we... skip the build up tonight? If you don't mind." She sounded almost uncertain as if she could even ask that. But he furrowed his brow and nodded, before moving his hands to slip off his underwear, tossing them to the side.
"You're so beautiful." He quipped, running his hands over her pale body. Letting goosebumps slide in their wake. He busied himself kissing her as his hands slid down to her thighs, spreading them to be on either side of his waist. At this point, she knew that he preferred control. Made him more comfortable with intimacy in general. Dhe knew how to play her role. Knew when to not move, knew when to move. It was automatic. Her hands slid over his shoulders to gather in his white curls, the soft strands hanging over his forehead as he towered over her. His mouth played with hers, getting heated. Something felt wrong. He had begun to think that it was just her and her style. Once he began to sink into her, he let out a content sigh. He loved the feeling. Her warm body wrapped around his own, the way she molded to his form as he would thrust slowly, before speeding up to a comfortable pace. She kept... dazing off. It bothered him; could she really not focus on her own partner? His cool hands slid up to hold her cheeks. "Are you okay?"
"Hm-? Oh, yes. I'm fine, sorry." She gave him a kiss in which he returned, pushing away the uncertainty growing in his stomach.
"Good." He was too in the moment, gripping her thighs tightly as he picked up his pace, pounding in hard and deep. He leaned over her and she had rolled her head to the side, leaving him to bite her. He moaned at her warm blood in his mouth. She had never really made any sounds when they made love, but when he pulled away from her neck, was dazing off again. "Hey... darling...?" His pace faltered.
"I'm here... it's fine." She murmured, kissing him. His release built until he let go, and grunted as he let go on him. She had seemed to go, but she was still dazing off.
"Do you even enjoy this?" He snipped, upset.
"What..? Oh, yes I do." She murmured, eyes lazily resting on them, dazed. "Sorry."
He moved off her. "Every time we've done this, Asra. Every time. And I know I'm doing a good job, I have enough experience to tell me that." She just looked down. He was propped up now, doing the equivalent of pinning her down. His red eyes were angry, full of hurt. "What in the hells-" He heard her heartbeat pick up when she looked up at him and gulped. His lips closed into a faint snarl, though the face was mostly masking his confusion. She seemed to get scared, moving away and slipping off the bed. "Hey, get back here." He put a hand out, snaking it around her waist and pulling her back to become flush to his chest.
"Can we just- go to bed?" She spoke in a hurried voice.
"I... of course, darling." He sighed.
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It had been a few hours, reaching far into the night. Astarion had fallen asleep, and had been laying next to Asra. He awoke to a sharp jab in the side. He was about to snap when he saw the tossing form of Asra. Her knee had jabbed his side as she tossed again, tears slipping from behind closed eyelids. The tadpole in her head must have been squirming, as he could feel its vulnerability. "What in thehello? Asra? Wake up." He shook her arm, trying to rouse her from the obvious nightmare. It took a few tries, but she suddenly lurched up in a panic, tears slipping down her face. The white-haired elf was sobbing, hyperventilating, even. She hugged herself and rocked back and forth, which was soon stalled as Astarion grabbed hold of her. She panicked and tried to escape.
"L-let go of me-!" She yelled, but he muffled her with a hand.
"Don't be so loud- it's just me, darling. I'm here." He soothed, but she still fought.
She seemed to be in a state of terror. The mental energy coming from her tadpole came in waves. Astarion's eyebrows raised, his tadpole squirming uncomfortably in his head. It yearned to communicate with hers. She was freaking out, getting out of his grasp with a struggle, stumbling to the floor. "G-get away from me."
"Darling...? What's wrong?" He stood up, looking at her. "Was it earlier? Did I do something wrong?"
She shook her head frantically. "I-it's not- not you. It's someone- somebody else." She rocked herself.
"Someone else? Did somebody hurt you?" He asked, but before she could respond her mental barrier seemed to break briefly, as a memory washed over him, two large men. The memory was blurry, but her emotion in it- terror- was very potent. "Darling...?" He spoke as the memory was quickly shut out again. She was crying, unable to gain control of herself. "Who was that?"
She just shook her said, "No, no, no no no-..."
"Asra. If you can't say it, let me see."
She looked up at him with a look of horror, but didn't say no. He heard her give a shaky "Okay." before he felt her mental barrier slip. He found himself trapped in a torment of memories. Some blurrier than others, but enough to recognize the feeling. Assault. Lots of it. Years worth of memories of men, mostly this one particularly large half-elf. His heart sank, becoming heavy as it dropped into his stomach.
"Darling... this surely didn't happen, did it?" He was in denial. He didn't want to believe it. He knew she had nightmares, but this? She went through something similar to him, but from the memories it seemed... so much worse. The emotions, at least did.
"I- I-... w-was eleven, when it started." She choked out, and a lump grew in his throat. Eleven? He had been thirty-nine. And she was still so young, twenty-two now.
"Eleven? Darling, that's... who is that, your father?" He tested uneasily.
"No- his name- was- Huegson. H-he... took pretty good care of me. I think. He, sometimes would give me a few pieces of gold, I could buy an apple, or something." She gave a smile as she stared off with her wide eyes.
He just stared at her with sad eyes. "How long did it go on for?" Please have it be only a little while.
"Eleven years. Actually was about to happen again when the nautloid took me, actually." She gave a laugh that sounded half crazy.
His heart sank deeper, if even possible. Her childhood. Her innocence was stripped. That's why she always dazed off. Why she was so good at it. It was routine, it was a trauma response. Goodness, everyone in their little troop needed some serious therapy. "Did you tell your parents? I'm sure they would've helped you-"
"They're dead. the Loraine family, used to be nobles, killed eleven years ago in an arsonist house fire. I, their only daughter, was the survivor. And left homeless. I let those men do that to me. So I could get by. Of course I didn't understand at first what it even was, I found out quickly didn't I? Sometimes they'd let me sleep in his bed with him, so I wasn't in that alleyway. I would do it even more often in the winter so I didn't freeze to death, although I can't even say I had a choice. But oh, how easy it was to learn to say yes to everything! When I could say no to nothing at all." She had gotten up and paced during her rant, tears slowing down her smiling cheeks. When she was finished, she sunk to her knees and choked out a sob. She melted into the floor, and just... collapsed in a fit of tears and chokes. Astarion hurried over to her, scooping her limp form into his arms.
"Darling... it's okay." He murmured, sadness prickling his eyes as he pet her hair and kissed her cheeks. "It'll be okay. I promise."
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Can I Kiss You?
Word count: 600 Rating: Mature Pairing: Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader Warnings: 18+, kissing, grinding AO3 link: Can I Kiss You?
Summary: You decide to try something different with Astarion: kissing with no intention of going further
You’re leaning up against Astarion, your head gently resting on his shoulder as he reads a book. For the first time in a while, you have nothing planned for the day. You caress his arm holding up the book, watching intently as he flexes underneath your touch.
“Are you wanting to do something, love?” Astarion asks with hooded eyes.
“Well, yes-“ you start to reply before he tosses the book off to the side and starts to climb on top of you. You press your hands against his chest, creating a barrier between the two of you. “Wait.”
“Is everything alright? Am I going too fast?” Astarion asks with worry.
“No, nothing like that,” you reassure him, “I was thinking that maybe we could just… make out? With no intent of going further?” You wrap your arms around his body and look up at your lover with genuine affection, and he all but melts into your embrace. “Is that alright?” you ask.
A gentle smile appears as he whispers a delicate ‘yes’ before stroking your hair with one hand. He cups the other hand around your face and leans down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You reciprocate his touch by tightening your hug around him, kissing him sweet and slow in return. A delighted hum starts in the back of your throat as you take in the coolness of his lips against yours.
You grip onto his shirt and gingerly press your tongue against his lips. He accepts your advance and a tender dance begins between the two of you. Astarion holds you as you make out, playing with your hair.
You start to pick up the pace, growing hungry for more of the man you love. He slightly pulls your hair, causing you to gasp and open your mouth wider. He takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue deeper into your mouth. You feel him start to gently rock against your body, his growing erection grinding against you.
He pulls back from the kiss, his eyes wide as he asks, “Is this okay? Can I… grind on you?”
You smile as you hook one of your legs around his back, forcing him into you. “More than okay,” you whisper before taking his lips into a needy kiss.
He groans against your lips, the vibrations sending a wave of bliss through your face. He rolls his hips into yours, barely noticeable at first, before he begins to rock further into your body with each kiss. You match his rhythm and the two of you embrace the tenderness of the moment.
The kiss slows and Astarion pulls away from your lips, choosing instead to place small kisses all over your face. He rolls over and takes you with him, placing you on top of his body as he holds you tightly.
“That was nice,” he sighs.
You respond with a grunt before sleep takes you, the safety of Astarion's arms providing more comfort than you have felt the past few weeks. Astarion watches as your breath slows. He gingerly brushes your hair out of your face and places a gentle kiss on your forehead.
He wouldn’t dare say it if you were awake lest you make some sappy monologue about how much he means to you, but in the quiet of his tent he whispers, “I love you.”
#astarion fic#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3 astarion#astarion#baldurs gate astarion#bg3 tav#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#fics#astarion ancunin#bg3#short and sweet#oneshot#gender neutral reader#astarion bg3#astarion x you#astarion x gender neutral reader
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Much Too Kind

pairing : astarion x (fem) reader
summary : astarion has found a soft spot for a girl who is much too kind for her own good, too trusting, in such a gruesome world.
warnings : astarion bites.
a/n : i haven't played baldurs gate (so i apologize for my lack of knowledge) but astarion is consuming my brain.

“Do you honestly feel safe sleeping with him sitting this close by?”
“He’s done nothing but help us this whole time, why would I not?”
“Because he’s a vampire?” Shadowhearts face is blank, speaking as though her words shouldn’t need to be spoken, an obvious thought. She stares into you, awaiting a proper answerings, and she almost scoffs when she doesn’t get what she wants. In return you roll your eyes, continue to ready yourself to sleep.
When you feel that you're ready to go to bed, Shadowhearts voice is unheard. She is already situated inside of her bedroll, which she had set up farther away from the fire than you liked, in a way of protecting herself from a seemingly harmless Astarion. In all fairness, you have probably been too trusting in the man. But how could you not?
He had been such a tease since the moment you met him. Because he seemed to annoy you, he never left your side. But you quickly grew fond of the pale man, and it was suddenly you who couldn’t leave his side. Astarion had no problem with this, and a weird fondness began brewing in his chest whenever he was around you. He had a burdening soft spot for you unlike anyone else. He couldn’t even bring himself to feed around you in case he scared you off, feeling an unprecedented amount of fear of losing you. The relationship you shared was teetering on a very thin line of romance and teasing gone too far.
The two of you were an unlikely pair. Astarion was manipulative, and you knew that from watching him work, but he never used it on you (as far as you knew). He viewed you as too sweet for your own good, taking it upon himself to keep you from danger. In all honesty, you probably didn’t need him for that. Sure he helped when you were obviously being lied to and couldn’t tell but you could hold your own in battle just fine. From your point of view he was nothing but trustworthy and helpful. Shadowheart, your ever protective friend, had a hard time seeing the same thing.
But when you made a fuss about having to sleep in your armour, unlike Shadowheart who had no problem with the matter, he had offered up a spare shirt. You weren’t sure where it had been beforehand but it was comfy, with undone strings hanging from the neckline, and it was large enough to go down to your mid thigh which was perfect. And his scent covering it was an added bonus. You had never thought much about it, but you never wore your heavy pants to sleep, being too hot inside your stuffy bed roll.
You were usually asleep before everyone else, and the first to wake in the morning, so this never proved to be a problem. And, if you had to think about it, you were usually in a tent by yourself. But with only Shadowheart and Astarion around you didn’t see a problem.
But when you crawled into your bedroll, at a middle distance between Astarion propped up against a log by the fire and Shadowheart sleeping farther from him, you began to see the problem. Shadowhearts words from before were dug into your brain, what if Astarion was dangerous and he did end up hurting you in your sleep just like she had said. You had never felt any fear towards the man, but her words had planted an unfamiliar distrust in your head.
You were dangerously aware of every noise around you. Unable to sleep, because of your focus on everything around you. The soft snores from Shadowhearts bedroll, and the quiet hum from a bored Astarion playing with the fire. As long as he was by the fire, seated much too close for comfort now, you thought you’d be able to hear him coming. You think everything is fine, but being so edge you catch the smallest sounds, and you shoot up at the sound of a twig snapping.
“My, my. Such a light sleeper my dear.” You turn towards Astarion, breath heavy, and a guilty feeling festering in your lower stomach. He’s almost exactly where he was when you first laid down. There’s a smug grin written on his face and you’re not sure why, though you don’t have the energy to question it. With sleepy eyes, you look around once more searching for anything out of the ordinary in the darkness, but you turn back to Astarion in the end.
“I can’t sleep.” He throws another piece of wood on the fire, the light dancing across his face in pretty patterns from the dispersed light, his white shirt untied just enough to see his collarbones and the beginning of his chest. The sight alone has thrown the tenseness away from your body, and your muscles soften up, posture loosening.
“And is there any reason in particular?” You meet his eyes again, a flurry of heat covers your cheeks, the look in his eyes telling you that you had been caught ogling him. “You seem so on edge, darling.”
He’s seated, practically the same height as you while he lays against the log, but it feels like he’s staring down at you. His fangs show as he parts his lips in a small, condescending grin.
“I’m just not used to sleeping out in the woods s’all.” He nods, he doesn’t believe you, and you can understand why because you’ve only been camping in the wild for weeks by now.
“Are you sure that's all? Cause I believe I heard that vile woman over there talking about a ‘bigger threat’ than whatever’s out there.” He gestures to Shadowheart and the dark, full woods around you.
You shake your head, pout on your face, nervous that he would think differently of you if he knew what was actually going through your head. He was perceptive enough and, unbeknownst to you, you were an easy read. Of course he had heard the two of you talking, and he knew that you had not spoken ill of him, but it was so fun to tease you. And he knew you had grown nervous in his presence.
“You’re not worried because of me are you?” Your eyes widen and you shake your head once more. There was concern written all over his features, the crinkle in between his brows and his parted lips. To anyone else his concern would look fake, you were certain it was real. And to him, it was somewhere in between. He did feel something for you that put him in an unfortunate position, but the idea that you were scared of him sent misery through his bones.
“No of course not!” The comfy bedroll you had been laying in, shimmies down your legs as your torso tightens up again and your posture becomes much too straight for your liking.
A soft sigh leaves his mouth, “Would you come sit over by me? You feel so far away.” His lips curve at the corners when you seem to think for a moment, but ultimately stand up. You bunch your bedroll up in your arms, not wanting to sit on the rocks. And when your eyes meet his again, he's already eyeing up your legs, you feel suddenly much too exposed. The night air nips at your skin and you hurry over to the spot beside him, throwing the bed roll on the ground and sitting on top of it.
“Didn’t need to bring that over, silly girl. There’s a perfectly fine seat right here.” His eyes look down to his lap then back up to you, your face flush again.
“I’m okay here,” You regret looking at him when you see his eyes plead with you, “..For now.”
He really was cunning. You figured he was scheming. But he truly had no intention of misleading you, just wanted you close. He couldn’t help that he found it so cute how nice you were. Too nice in his opinion. Dangerous world out there, he was just trying to teach you who you could and couldn’t trust. Maybe you would get into more trouble, if you always trusted men like him.
But no danger if you never have to think about other men.
“Do you believe the things she says?” His eyes stared into the fire, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him, that guilty feeling was growing in your stomach. “I know you must not trust me, at least not fully.”
You stay silent, you’re almost scared to talk, in fear you offend him anymore then you already have. You pull your knees up to your chest, arms wrapping around your legs, guilt eating away at your insides.
He looks at you now, with his eyes he traces your legs where your shirt no longer hangs enough to cover you, up to your face that wears a pout and tired eyes. “Do I scare you?”
“No!” You sit up onto your knees, facing him fully. “No! I’m sorry Astarion, if i made you feel that way..”
He almost feels bad for a moment. You were too sweet, and while yes he had been worried for a moment, he was only teasing.
In your moment of weakness, and putting yourself in an easy position, he grabs you to pull you onto his lap. Where he has wanted you all along. Both thighs on either side of his seated form, face much closer to his own than you ever planned on being. His shirt, adorning your body, hangs down your thighs and rustles against his legs.
“Could you..promise?” His voice is so smooth, and his eyes look so alluring in this position, his hands planted on your hips. Your breath is caught in your throat when he asks, you aren't so sure that your answer before is entirely truthful now. He has too much control of this situation, and it is making you nervous, more nervous then before if that was even possible.
“I..I promise. Of course, I promise!” You're in such a compromising position and you wish you had slept with pants on. It’s much too cold out on your bare skin, but being on Astarions lap is making your body much too hot.
“Very good.” His head moves closer to you, pulling your body into his and sending shivers down your spine.
“Astarion!” Your hands find his shoulders, trying to put distance between you but his hold is strong. He has got you where he wants you and there is no way he will be letting you go. His face buries itself in your neck, breath tickling your skin and his nose leaving soft touches against you.
“You smell..delicious.” His voice was sultry, and so suggestive. You knew what he wanted, had been waiting for the moment he would say something. He was a hungry man with an uncomfortable amount of power over you. And your neck was looking awfully inviting. You hated that he had you feeling so many things, for a man who was so obviously trying to take advantage of you.
He may have thought you were naive but you were smart enough to know what this vampire wants from you. Even though you were debating allowing it just so he would be happy and full, it tugged at your mind that he might just be using you for this purpose.
Shadowheart may have been right about him being a threat while you slept, but right now he was just as threatening. Would it hurt when he sunk his teeth into your skin?
As if he suddenly became more conscious in his actions, he pulled away, breath heavy against you. “I’m sorry, you are just such an appetising little thing.” He places a soft kiss to your cheek, your silence beginning to fill him with the same guilt you were feeling. He wasn’t sure why. This is what he wanted, sure he had grown fond of you but this is what he needed from the beginning. But it didn’t feel right anymore, not with the way you were so pliable in his hands, allowing him to tease you just so you wouldn’t offend him.
“Are you hungry?” Your voice, surprising him, sends his eyes straight to yours. You couldn’t possibly be considering what he thought you were.
“Yes darling, but don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” He lets out a heavy sigh, planting more kisses on your cheek down to your jaw. His attempt to distract you almost works but you gently move your face away, pulling your hair away from your neck.
“Could I help?” You looked at him with a warmth in your eyes, one he hadn’t seen from anyone but you for years. Your devotion to him pulled at his heart, you were so willing to help him without even knowing if it would hurt or not.
“You would do that..for me?” His hand finds your cheek, voice sending gentle vibrations through you. You can only nod, scared that if you speak it’ll be nothing above a whisper.
He takes your hair from your hand, holding it out of his way. A gentle kiss to your cheek. Another on your jaw. And he moves them all the way down to your neck where he intends to bite.
‘Astarion?”
“Yes, my dear?” He pulls away, and you can tell it pains him to by the look of disappointment on his face, lips too pouty for how tough he always tries to act.
“Is it going to hurt?” His eyes are so soft when he looks at you, even though he wants nothing more than to sink his fangs into your flesh.
“I’ll try to make it painless, but you can hold my hand, yeah?” You nod and intertwine your fingers with his, scared but determined to make him happy.
He returns to his place in your neck, places a soft kiss before he sinks his teeth into you. Immediately, your fingers squeeze his own and he sends a squeeze back so you know he’s there. He almost feels bad, whimpers falling from your lips, but you taste so delectable that he can’t bring himself to.
Astarion continues to drink, and you allow it. You only make an effort to stop him when you become dizzy, and your head becomes too heavy for you to hold on your own. Your grip on his hand loosens, and you use his other one to tap at his arm. It seems to snap him out of his trance cause he pulls away, licking his lips.
“You taste as good as I had hoped you would.” A drowsy smile crashes against your face and your chest swells with pride, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. The energy is gone from your body. You know he wouldn’t have killed you, but any longer and you wouldn’t be in any condition to fight the next day. You didn’t know if you would be as is.
Astarion seems to notice, and he moves you to sit inside your bed roll. Your hand still holds his, and you lay on your side to face him.
“Such a sweet thing,” he rubs your hair flat with his free hand, admiring your sleepy features in the fire light, “Sleep my dear. I’ll keep you safe.”
#x reader#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate astarion#bg3#astarion#fem reader#female reader#oneshot#fluff#drabble
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You are Astarion's favorite blood sacrifice. He decides to reward you for it.
Characters: Yandere!Ascended!Astarion x GN!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Yandere, Vampires, Reader nearly dies, Blood being mentioned in all manners, Biting, Death mention, Minor sexual hints, Desperation, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Minor violent acts (not directed at reader except biting)
a/n: I don't have a big Halloween story for you guys, but I've been trying to get back into writing more and I've been working on this story the last couple of days, so I hope you enjoy it ♥ (I mean it's vampires so that's almost Halloween-themed right???)

Darkness is a vampire's best friend.
It shields them, hides them, benefits them—all without expecting something in return. It's nature's way of making up for all the pain and suffering it put its less loved children of the night through, and they welcome it, moonlight glistening on their skin, their perception so much sharper without the fear of sunlight's burn.
Like eager partners in crime, a vampire's gifts are amplified by what the darkness provides. They stalk in the shadowy coat of the night; see the prey that wants to stay unseen. Their voices, mellow and honeyed, sound even sweeter, whispered in the ears of those who wander into the vampire's hunting grounds as the creatures lure their prey with promises of grandeur. Fame, money, lust. It seems to be all that their food desires. What more could someone want who's unaware of being tricked? And so they follow wherever the masters of night command them.
Deeper and deeper into the darkness.
"Hello, darling."
You came to hate it—all of it. The darkness, the night.
The whispers and touches, promises and the hunt. You knew he had many more like you, living blood banks stored in cold, dark cells. You heard them scream every night when the bell rang twelve, the darkest hour of the day. Sometimes, you recognized the cries as the ones from days before, but you never knew when would be the last time you'd hear the poor souls lost in the darkness. New ones came and went, but you were the only one that remained after every night.
Somewhere between three and four months, you lost count of the days spent here. You tried to remember how many times you'd been visited, but one miscount, and now you didn't know if it had been one or ten years. You would have expected to get mad in the darkness, alone and aching from your shoulders to your ankles, with no place on your body unbitten. But Astarion was punctual—perhaps the only good quality about him. That was the only thing to keep you grounded down here.
He didn't miss a single day of feeding or, as he called it, spending time with you.
Alongside your meal, he showed up at exactly midnight every night, someone always there to close the door behind him without fail. You had never seen his face, but you had felt it plenty of times beneath your fingertips, enough to know he was one of those handsome bloodsuckers who kidnapped and locked you here. At least for now, as long as you were pretty enough in his eyes as well. Eyes that you felt creeping over your body the moment the only door to the outside opened, only more darkness waiting behind it. They mustered you, devoured you perhaps, an appetizer before the main course.
You knew nothing of your nightly visitor besides his punctuality and his name. There was no face to associate it with, just the feeling of his cold skin and the sharp pain of his fangs in your memory. And yet, something told you he was special even among his kind. Somewhat… superior. He still had the capability to be gentle if he wanted, never causing you to cry out in agony like the other sacrificial lambs did. And more importantly, after all this time, you were sure he was the one keeping you alive.
"Astarion," you greeted him, simply, calmly. Hiding the shiver in your voice despite the room growing colder ever since he stepped inside. It was hard to say if you were still afraid of death when it was a constant threat like a noose hanging above your head. Perhaps you dreaded surviving more than dying if you thought about it, your heart growing heavier with fear and loneliness every day. But at the same time, you grew more and more desensitized to the screams and pain and more used to the darkness.
Hugging your body with one arm, you used the other to walk along the wall to your chair, the wood creaking as you sat down, scooting it closer to the table. He liked it when you did what he wanted without him having to ask you to. Astarion's steps were non-existent, but you needn't wait for or invite him to join you. You could always count on his chest pressing against your back the moment you sat down as he leaned over you from behind. It was a familiar yet suppressive feeling. A reminder of your position.
You were below him, prey to be consumed. Yet, he treated you more like a pet, almost beloved, but at best, you were well-cared for. You doubted he could feel anything towards you that wasn't belittling. You'd not thrive in the darkness on your own, but Astarion knew how to keep you alive. A waft of roasted chicken drifted into your nose, hearty and mouth-watering, and you had no doubts it would be accompanied by sides that would nourish the dire lack of vitamins you had. He had always insisted on you finishing your plate, feeding you himself if he had to. It couldn't go that you'd not eat what he graciously provided. But this was the only meal you were given every day, and the loss of blood made you too hungry to strike.
You tried once. For almost a week, you starved yourself until you could not do it anymore. Continuing not to eat when you were starving and food was served in masses to you cost too much willpower that you didn't have. Likewise, eating the food with the condition that you had to sit on his lap and thank him for every measly pea he fed you one after the other was enough humiliation to never try that again. And Astarion had been happy since with your plate wiped clean.
"You smell delightfully today," he mused as he drew back from the table. You felt his lips brush over your bare shoulder, your breath hitching when he pressed them to the nape of your neck. You'd not put it past him to eat before you, even though he seemed satisfied waiting for you to finish most of the time.
"Garbor gave me new soap today. Roses, I think," you breathed, reaching forward to the cutlery that, no doubt, laid beside the plate Astarion brought. It just appeared, almost magically. But you were pretty sure it was there all along, Garbor, the guard, probably cleaning and switching it out while you were asleep. You didn't even know if his name was Garbor; you merely decided to call him that. After all, no one would speak to you here aside from Astarion, even if you knew they existed in the shadows.
"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Astarion chuckled, his comment profoundly unsettling as you knew what he meant when he said you smelled nice. Your blood. To him, you must have smelled as mouth-wateringly as your meal did to you. You had always empathized with animals, wishing for them to live their lives as best as possible, even if they were destined to be slaughtered. Ironic, now that you were cattle to a vampire, likely being fed according to Astarion's tastes.
"Next time, I think I'd like something citrusy again. The last soap was divine."
His hands driving up your arms made you nervous. They were unfettered by your movements as you aimlessly tried to pierce meat and vegetables onto your fork, your eyes never adjusting to the complete darkness of the basement cellar. You weren't a vampire, after all. Despite the time spent down here, the broken fear and authority between you two, he could still make you nervous. And you talked when you were anxious, to the point you wanted to bite your own tongue off.
A mix of a chuckle and a scoff escaped him as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, his nails resting softly against your throat while his thumbs ran up and down the sides of your spine in feathery touches. Slowly, reassuring you of his presence. And the ability to snap your neck with this formidable cut-throat necklace. He readjusted his touch a few times until his pointer fingers pressed against your pulse on one side, your gullet on the other. Enough for you to eat and breathe, but you didn't dare to move your head.
"I shall tell… Garbor, to fetch that for you. Anything else? Another pillow? A new shirt? Would my darling fancy some earrings? We just so happen to have someone donate a wonderful pair of rubies that would look so beautifully dangling from your ears."
A shudder went through you; the word 'donate' was not one to take kindly. People donated to charities and beggars. Not to someone who could put meat on a plate every day for you and obviously had no saintly bone in his body. Gulping down the chicken that got stuck on your tongue as you listened to the sultry voice of your captor, you put down the fork for a moment to think, clearing your throat as best as you could with his hands still pretending to be a necklace.
"A candle maybe, and a book. I feel like now's a great time to pick up a new hobby."
You heard the grin spread on Astarion's lips as he chuckled, his thumbs curling inwards until you felt his nails press against your skin. "I do so very like those entertaining ideas of yours, sweetling. But alas, I'm afraid I cannot give you that. You'd end up preferring the book over my company!"
"How could I ever, Sir? I wasn't planning on going on a paper diet."
This time, he actually burst out into laughter, hands disappearing into the darkness as you presumed he held his stomach from the ache of amusement. You wasted no time to stuff two more bites into your mouth as long as you had the freedom that was oh-so short-lived. His hands banging on the table in front of you created an explosive sound in the small confinement you called home. Compared to the cold body pressed against you, his breath skimmed your ear warmly, his voice like honey dripping right into your ear.
"That's why you're my favorite. Those little witty comments of yours have saved you so many times, you know?"
The food you were so eager to sneak into your mouth now threatened to fall out of it as you couldn't find the strength to swallow. Some instinctual part of you waited for him to attack, exploit your vulnerable self. It readied you, muscles tense, body paying attention to everything it could perceive (which was shamefully little with your senses so inferior to the vampire). But then there was the rational part of your brain, currently occupied with the warmth of his breath gracing your ear and cheek, and his words.
Favorite. You were his favorite.
You forced yourself to finish chewing, slowly, embarrassingly aware of Astarion waiting for another 'witty' remark from his favorite. Favorite late-night amusement? Favorite person to take care of? Favorite blood bag? You felt his eyes drilling into your jaw expectantly as you chewed your food properly before you leaned forward to reach for the cup of water that was unmistakably always on the table. Perhaps because of the darkness, you were so very aware of your hair brushing his nose and the deep inhale it caused Astarion to take before he pressed his face into it, gripping a bunch of it with one hand and forcing you to halt.
"You're my undoing, pet."
"Really?" you said in your most convincing, surprised voice, trying your hardest to sound as fake as possible. Revealing his thoughts to you might have given you a chance to bargain with him, even though this cell and the darkness had long become much safer than anything he could offer. In reality, you knew better than to trust the words of a vampire, yet found yourself truly surprised about the reverence they were spoken with. "It's hard to imagine I could do such a thing. I'm just sitting here."
Astarion hummed, amused, satisfied with your remark once again. Another chance at life, how you noted duly. Perhaps he liked the challenge of you playing his game, neither of you ever speaking the whole truth and coating your words in sarcasm and fake friendliness. Or maybe vampires were accompanied by madness that made them prefer prey who didn't cave as easily into a begging, sobbing mess. Prey like you.
"It's been years—no, decades since I last took a liking in someone, and you have no idea how much I longed for companionship like yours. It's exciting and a bit of a tease. I couldn't bring myself to kill you yet."
"How very gracious of you," you praised, hoping he didn't pay close attention to your face, a grimace edging into your features.
"You know, I might even be convinced to return you to the light. If you ask, nicely."
And suddenly, there it was. You gulped as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, suddenly attacked by something you had long abandoned. Hope. A glimmer of it, at least. You remembered the days when you had still banged at the door, demanding and reasoning with anyone who'd hear you to release and let you go home. The early nights when you dreamed about the sun and the warmth of being surrounded by people. And now the time had finally come to reclaim those wishes, almost bringing you down to your knees.
You knew you couldn't be so foolish as to retort to being a boring, begging nobody. You had to be his favorite. Crawling over the dirty floor and clinging to him for dear life wasn't going to cut it, no matter how much you wanted to. Because yes! Yes to the surface, yes to leaving all of this behind. Escaping him would be much easier when you weren't locked in the darkness. You had waited so long for the sweet embrace of death and endured so much pain when you were forced to survive pitifully like this. You even became his favorite. And now it was paying off—if you played your cards right.
"Ah… I don't know," you sighed. You could hear your own voice, thin and nervous. Excited. Your mouth was dry, but your heart was banging against your rips. Undoubtedly, he knew that, but you hoped Astarion would forgive your very appropriate reaction. Maybe even fancy it.
Every flinch of your muscles and every word carefully uttered was driven by a hope that Astarion could easily crush if he disapproved. You never saw yourself as exceptionally talented with words, but if that was what he wanted, he should have it. Your mom would scold you for being a brat, but this vampire here favored your attitude enough to keep you alive, so it had to be good for something. "I was just starting to get comfortable here. It's so… cozy."
"Well, I have it cozy up there as well. Cushioned chairs and silk sheets—only the best for my best."
It was strange to hear his voice in the same tone as his usual banter, even though you could detect another tone swinging in the background. It was but an insignificant waver, one of uncertainty and doubt. Desperation. Maybe not as much as you, but he wanted you to agree, his reasons unclear. And yet, your heart setting out a beat must have given away that you recognized his wish since he added, "You were always a marvel. But imagine how good you'd look by my side up there. My consort. My favorite."
"W-Well, are the beds soft?" you pressed out quickly, trying to avoid the sensual allure of his voice being murmured into your ear. You didn't mean to stutter, biting your own tongue before deciding to calm yourself with deep, quiet breaths that you hoped he didn't notice. But you knew that everything he said went straight to the unreasonable part of your mind, the one a vampire knew to manipulate so well. But in your desire to get out of here, eagerness and giving in too easily could cost you everything.
"Very," he mused, and you were relieved to hear him still in good spirits, his next words almost a lilt. "Soft and warm. Like you."
"And the food?" you asked, gulping. You didn't care for the beds or the food.
"Oh, the food!"
His exclamation caught you by surprise, as did the sudden disappearance of his body. For a moment, you thought you had ruined your chance. Had gone too far with your hesitance. But next you knew, you felt his hand fall to your shoulder again, running down your arm until he had your wrist in his palm, lifting it to his face. Astarion planted one kiss below your thumb, then moved on to kissing the pulse beneath it.
"It's delightful! Delectable! The best you ever had. And me for dessert. You won't lack anything, I promise."
His promise meant very little to you, and yet, as he littered your wrist with kisses, you couldn't help but cave. It was everything about this situation, the hope, the reverent kisses, the empty promises, that blinded you from the danger. You hadn't questioned his intentions or the price you'd have to pay. Not when he spoke to you as if he was laying the world at your feet, promising you the moon, the stars, and everything beyond.
"Ask me, pet, and you can have it all. The luxuries, the world, me. All you have to do is ask, darling."
There they were, the simple, honeyed words every human wanted to hear. All feeding into your own desperation so perfectly as if they were made just for you. As if you were the only suffering fool in this world, and perhaps to Astarion, you were. The grin curling his lips upwards against your wrist revealed just how much of a fool he took you for when you opened your mouth again.
"I…" you hesitated. But not long enough. You had too much to lose, despite not knowing what you were going to lose agreeing to this. "I want to go to the surface."
"Do you now?" he smirked, and you felt the hard edge of his teeth as his lips parted in a wide grin.
"I want to, Sir. I want to be your favorite. I want to be by your side. Please take me with you."
For a moment, there was silence, then Astarion let out a hum of satisfaction followed by a deep breath.
"Oh, you are, darling. You are my favorite. I've longed for this moment for so long, yearned for it every damned day and night, and finally, it's here. Let's be together forever, alright? It'll hurt only a little, and then we'll always be together."
"What will hurt?" you asked before you felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your arm. You knew this pain, the searing burn of his fangs piercing your skin. You had felt it a hundred times, no, a thousand. But this one was short-lived, blood dripping from your hand as you bit your lip, holding back the tears. No one liked tears, and you were too close to your goal to ruin it now.
"Endure it," he purred, and it was almost a shame that he noticed, considering how much you fought yourself to keep your composure. "You'll have to bare this beautiful neck of yours if you want to be mine, darling."
There was another moment of hesitation, the taut skin of your neck always hurting the most if he bit it. But why even did he have to bite you? What good were two more bites of you in this dark cell when he could assume you'd be at his beck and call upstairs as well? Astarion couldn't know of your feeble escape plans yet, so he had no reason to doubt your devotion. And even if he did, wouldn't he enjoy feeding from you in one of the more comfortable beds he mentioned?
But pondering was of no use to you. You had to comply if you wanted your dreams to come true. Turning towards him and laying your head to the side, you could feel your hair fall out of the way, baring your neck so beautifully. "Yes, Sir," was your short, meager reply, and yet your arm immediately fell to your side, one of Astarion's hands wrapping around the back of your head while the other weighed down on your shoulder, keeping you in place.
"That's a good pet," he mumbled, face inching closer to your body with every spoken word. You braced yourself for the pain, the burning, the mess it would make, and you took it like a champ, which you probably were after all those bites—at first. However, all the bites before eventually ended. They never lasted more than a few minutes at worst. But not this one, and that's when you realized your mistake.
You gasped as you reached for him, grabbing his clothes like a lifeline to hold onto. Tears fell freely as the pain didn't stop, your body growing lighter while Astarion had little problems keeping you in place. "It hurts!" you sobbed as your thoughts became less reasonable, less controlled. Everything began to swim, and though you were sitting, you felt like you were going to fall. But even as you struggled to stay conscious, Astarion didn't stop, didn't care.
By the time you realized you were going to die, it was already much too late. Your life was drained out of you with all of your blood. At least you didn't have to feel the pain of your crushed hope or the desperation of, once again, being stuck in this cold and lonely darkness. If you were honest, you looked forward to escaping all of this, as had been your destiny for so long. At least this way, you'd be free, too. Differently than you thought, but free nonetheless.
"Mhm, darling. Even now, you're ravishingly beautiful."
You could hear the voice, but your body had no blood left to supply your brain, so it could understand anything. You didn't even feel his uncharacteristically warm fingers smear a thick fluid to your lips, slipping in to coat your tongue, reflexes working even when you were as good as dead.
"And you're mine. All mine."
At least you wouldn't have to die in this dark cell, though you had no strength left to think about what shithole you'd be thrown into instead. Your body was but a sack of skin and bones in his arms as he carried you outside, your head empty like your blood vessels. But even as you lay dying in Astarion's arms, getting carried away, you knew one thing for sure: You hated it. The pain and the blood. The cold and this evil man that had held you like a cattle for so long only to kill you just like everyone else in the end. You hated him. You hated everything.
And most, you hated the darkness that continued to surround you, enveloping you mercilessly as it cooperated with your murderer. Unaware that you, too, were meant to succumb to it. That your dying body was changing into that of a child of the night, a spawn to the very same lonely vampire you so willingly promised eternity to in exchange for what you believed had been your path to 'freedom'. The same freedom you'd never have now.
Because you were his favorite.
And he'd never let his favorite spawn leave.
#astarion#astarion bg3#yandere astarion#yandere!astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#yandere bg3#yandere!bg3#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#yandere stories#yandere oneshots#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#Yandere TW
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A soft breeze of summer
Pairing: Astarion x you (f!reader)
Rating: T
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff
Summary: "Suddenly, you turn to him, a mischievous smile spread all over your face. “Can you catch me?” You shout at him. And then you start running into the field.
Astarion feels his heart swell with love. He loves you deeply. That is one of the few certainties in his life.
He smiles. And slowly gets up, giving you time to flee. He will play your game. And he will catch you, like he always does."
a/n: summer is ending, and I already miss it! So, this is my goodbye to summer, like a serenade, if you like.
I was inspired to write this piece by the beautiful screenshot from @casualya, and from Terrence Malick style, one of my favorite movies director.
I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it!
The divider used is from @saradika-graphics
Lots of Love to all of you 🖤
Read on ao3
Astarion is lying on the floor, over the blanket that you carefully had spread over the summer's dried vegetation in the shade of an oak tree. One of his hands rests beneath his head, while the other holds your back, feeling your steady breathing, while you take comfort in his embrace, nestling against him.
He savors this moment, basking in the simplicity of just being with you.
The sun is high in the sky and the day is hot, but there is a soft breeze of cooler wind that comes and goes, from time to time, soothing the heat.
Here, with you, he has no obligations, no burdens. The only thing he has to do is to enjoy your company on this perfect day of summer. To feel your heart beating against his chest, listening to the wind blowing against the field of wheat near you, that lovely sound of the dried wheat bustling against each other.
He closes his eyes, relaxing his body to the music of the cicadas nearby, singing nonstop a love song to summer. It’s peaceful. It's perfect.
Your breathing is heavy and even. You fell asleep in his arms, and he can’t help feeling the amazement of this simple and precious act of yours. It's still a surprise to him the safety that his arms can offer you. Just months ago, he couldn’t have dreamed of having these perfect moments in life. To have something so precious to care for. To have you. He. A vampire. Living a perfect and quiet life. Filling his undead heart with such a great love for this lovely being who chose him over everyone to spend the rest of your days with.
Astarion smiles at his thoughts. A genuine and contented smile. It's so nice. He is happy. Truly happy.
He breathes in deeply, summer scents all over. And yours. Your familiar and unique scent. Not your perfume. The smell of your skin, of your sweat. He can't help but to squeeze you. Are you really there? Are you even real? Is this happiness his to feel?
You stir, and he feels guilty for waking you. You were so peaceful…
You yawn, stretching your arms. “Was I sleeping for too long?”
“For some time, yes.” He replies, softly.
“Oh, I'm sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, my dear. My arms are yours.” He says sincerely.
You move and sit beside him, and Astarion feels some kind of emptiness when you leave his embrace. He could have stayed like that forever, holding you close.
He watches as you stand from his side and walk straight to the edge of the wheat field. Your bare feet, moving slowly through the dried grass. You stop when you reach the first strands of wheat, brushing your hands through the golden ears, tilting your head slightly upward, enjoying the soft breeze.
Astarion shifts to properly look at you, leaning on his elbows. And what a beautiful sight you are. You stay there for a while, with your dress swaying gently in the wind. Your free hair dancing in the air. You are like a living painting, another sweet memory to guard in his memory.
Suddenly, you turn to him, a mischievous smile spread all over your face. “Can you catch me?” You shout at him. And then you start running into the field.
Astarion feels his heart swell with love. He loves you deeply. That is one of the few certainties in his life.
He smiles. And slowly gets up, giving you time to flee. He will play your game. And he will catch you, like he always does.
He starts running, chasing you. He doesn't see you, but he can hear you laugh, your joyous, nervous laughter. And he keeps chasing.
After a while he spots you, with your back turned to him. You don't see him, so he takes that advantage and puts in practice his stealth skills. Astarion crouches, concealing his presence between the wheat, approaching you slowly and silently.
You search for him, but he is nowhere to be found. But he sees you, and he knows you are waiting. You are waiting for him to catch you. Oh Gods! How he loves you…
He is close to you now. And he can hear your racing heart, leaving a tender smile on his lips. When he finally is close enough he leaps to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and rolling with you to the ground.
Astarion positions himself above you, basking in your image while you laugh, with your glittering eyes. But not because of the sun, but because you are looking at him.
“It’s not fair Astarion!” You protest, tapping his chest, leaving there your hand to caress his skin.
“I don’t play fair, Darling.” He smirks, entangling his fingers in your hair.
You stay like that for a while, only gazing at each other. And Astarion sees how your eyes smile at him, how your lips crave for his. Your mouth, slightly open. Waiting. Inviting him. And he obliges, kissing you gently. He closes his eyes and he feels your lips in his. And he feels how you hold your breath at his touch, at his much-desired touch. And he waits, brushing his lips softly on yours. Finally you gasp, and you hold him. You hold his head, gripping his hair fiercely, pressing him against you, pressing his mouth against yours. Your lips, urgent against his.
He doesn’t know for how long you kissed, and he doesn’t care. He is not in a hurry.
When your lips finally part, you glare at him, leaning your head to the side. You don’t speak, but no words are needed. Astarion can feel your warm love embracing him.
You reach for a wheat ear, plucking it from the ground. Then you tuck a strand of his hair behind his pointy ear, as the wheat you just plucked.
“There. My beautiful summer elf.” You cup his face and kiss the tip of his nose softly. No one else has ever kissed his nose before. Just you. Only you.
Astarion smiles. A big wide smile, revealing his fangs. He feels light. Light like a feather. And he feels loved. Truly loved. You make him feel this way, always.
“Do you love me?” He hears you whisper, a faint of fear in your voice.
“My sweet little girl… I love you. I love you more than I ever thought possible. And today I love you more than I did yesterday, and less than I will tomorrow. I love you, Darling. Don’t you ever doubt that. Ever.” Astarion rests his hand in your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb, and you lean into his touch, pressing your face against it. And you smile, a sweet and tender smile, full of love and reassurance.
You make him happy, a happiness he never believed he could have. You care for him, in a way he thought no one ever would. And he will do everything in his power to watch you smile, like you just did, for as long as you bless him with your presence in this world.
Thank you so much for reading my story. Likes, reblogs and comments are very welcomed!
#astarion#astarion ancunin#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion romance#astarion fanfic#astarion x you#astarion x reader#astarion x female tav#astarion x female reader#astarion x f!tav#astarion x f!reader#spawn astarion#ana writes bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#oneshot
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Not the Wavemother
Astarion x Reader (Fluff)
| Astarion Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 Link |
Summary: Astarion notices your discomfort while you’re trying on your new clothing.
Rating: General Audiences
Author Note: Gender neutral Reader/Tav, they/them pronouns (if any). Spawn!Astarion x Reader/Tav. No class or race for Reader is mentioned in story. No physical description of Reader either, just a general description of how the dress fits. Mild hurt/comfort for Reader with fluffy ending.
CW: Uncomfortable clothes; uncomfortable attention from said clothes; mild innuendo at the end.
Word Count: 9,87
It had taken some convincing, but after a little bit of badgering, everyone finally talked you into trying on the outfit the Wavemother had given you.
You had been very hesitant, took your time changing and only came out after some encouragement from Karlach and Shadowheart.
Everyone fell silent though when you stepped out of your tent.
You looked breathtaking.
The dress was cut within an inch of your life, the fabric hugging close to your body like a second skin. The stooped neckline was exceptionally low, sitting just below your navel, while the slits up both sides of the skirt came just below your hips, showing a considerable amount of skin.
Had Astarion’s heart still beat, he was quite sure it would’ve stopped right then.
Even though he had seen you fully naked, he couldn’t help but stare as you slowly twirled around, letting everyone see the dress on you from all angles. A warm, tingling feeling spread through his abdomen and his stomach felt like it was full of butterflies. It unsettled him at first until he realized what it was.
Desire.
It wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to yet. While it wasn’t entirely unwelcome with you, it still felt odd to want someone in a physical manner. Before you, he couldn’t remember the last time he was with someone to fulfill his own needs, much less with someone he desired.
But after staring at you for a while, he noticed something was off.
You weren’t holding yourself like you normally would. While you were standing tall and proud, your shoulders were stiff, your posture just slightly hunched. You took everyone’s compliments and comments graciously, a polite smile on your face that was devoid of most emotion.
Suddenly, it dawned on him what it was he was seeing and the warm tingle in his stomach was replaced with a cold knot.
You were severely uncomfortable.
While you were no stranger to tight clothing and even occasionally showed some skin around camp on the warm nights, your normal choices didn’t garner much, if any, attention. Now everyone was looking at you appraisingly and showering you with praise, even Mizora.
And, with each compliment, your expression withdrew a little bit more.
By the time you turned to Astarion, your face was still a polite mask, but the glint you normally had in your eyes wasn’t there.
“You’re bring quiet, Astarion,” you stated, your voice politely neutral. “What do you think?”
It took him one second to decide how best to proceed.
He took a step back and took a long look at you, but it was a thoughtful gaze, as if you were a complicated trap he was about to disarm rather than someone intensely attractive to him.
“Honestly, it doesn’t look very functional to me,” he finally stated, a critical tone to his voice as he pried his gaze up from the dress to your eyes. “It is very cute, but one arrow and you’re done for, darling.”
Astarion’s words had an immediate effect. The stiffness in your posture eased some and your face slightly relaxed.
“Ah, c’mon, Astarion! That’s all you’re going to say?” Karlach said, then she clapped you on the back. “Tav is smokin’ hot right now!”
There was a slight wrinkle in your forehead, so slight anyone would’ve missed it had they not been paying close attention.
Fortunately for Astarion, he was, and already knew how to proceed.
“They are very hot, yes, but I’d much prefer them alive,” he stated, then met your gaze again. “Now, darling, why don’t you go get yourself changed before you catch a cold.”
Everyone booed at him as you hurried back into your tent, Halsin even called him a party pooper, but he didn’t care. He had caught a glimpse of the relief on your face just before you turned to go and that was all that mattered to him.
After changing back into your camp clothes, you were back to your normal self, rejoining everyone at the campfire in a pleasant mood. You took your normal place next to Astarion and slipped his arm around your back. You leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder.
Now that the dress was put away, everyone seemed to forget about it and began settling into their nightly routines, leaving you two to watch the fire.
You both were quiet for a while, just watching the flames and enjoying each other’s company, but after a few minutes, you broke the silence.
“I just realized something,” you said.
“Hmm?” he hummed. “And what would that be, darling?”
“You never said what you thought of the dress,” you said, then tilted your head to look up at him. “And you were staring pretty hard, too.”
Astarion looked down at you and carefully studied your expression, looking for any signs of discomfort about the topic. When he didn’t see any on your face, only a little bit of anticipation at his response, he knew you were okay with him speaking freely.
“You looked absolutely stunning, my love,” he said, softly kissing you on the forehead before dropping his voice to a soft murmur only you could hear. “In fact, one day when we have more private accommodations, I certainly wouldn’t mind if you ever wanted to wear it again just for me.”
You blinked up at him in surprise, your cheeks heating up in a blush at his implication. While you were far from a blushing virgin, it wasn’t hard for him to make you a bit flustered.
“Oh really?” you said, then smiled playfully up at him after he nodded. “In that case, I could possibly be persuaded to wear it again.”
He smiled gleefully and kissed you on the forehead again, which elicited a soft giggle from you, before resting his cheek on the top of your head as he returned his gaze back to the fire.
#astarion#astarion fluff#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion x tav#astarion fanfic#astarion imagine#astarion oneshot#astarion blurb#astarion drabble#astarion romance#astarion angst#astarion acunin#spawn!astarion#bg3 fanfiction
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The Shadow Cursed Lands.
Aight, here we are again. Everyone's favourite act, act 2, starts now.
Warnings: Technically kidnapping, Karlach cries :(
Other parts: Prev Part , Next Part , The List

(3rd person POV)
"This place stinks!"
Karlach complains as your little band of misfits walk through the path leading into the Shadow Cursed lands.
"Well, yes, everything here is rotting." Gale adds matter-of-factly, even jots a finger up as if pointing it out. Astarion quickly takes said finger to push Gale's hand back down to communicate that he's being embarrassing.
"It is a curse laid upon this land long ago; it saps up all of the living energy of this land." Halsin sighs sadly.
"Of course it's a curse; it's in the name, Shadow cursed lands." Astarion scoffs.
"None of you understand the beauty of this place; my lady Shar has made it her own." Shadowheart sighs in contentment.
You all but wish to groan. Ever since you'd stepped foot on this cursed soil, Wyll has been clinging to one of your arms while Lea'zel has practically attached to your side, if not for the two centimetres she's left to just not touch.
You've almost fallen over both of their legs...
"Is Y/N still breathing?" Halsin calls out from the front; he's been slowly pushed up front to get you away from him. Your companions seem to have agreed that aside from the tadpole issue, the druid is common enemy number one. After that stunt he pulled at the Crèche and all...
"No, they're dead." Astarion scoffs.
You make a dramatic dead face, making Karlach chuckle slightly.
"What?" Halsin asks in concern, trying to look backwards.
"They're fine." Wyll answers.
Halsin huffs with a curt nod, continuing to lead the group.
"So what do you reckon lives here?" You ask, trying not to shudder at the shadows grazing your back.
"Cursed shadows and vitality-drained past civilians, I'd imagine," Gale answers with a nod.
"Shadowheart, your deity has chosen quite an atrocious place to call her own." Lae'zel mocks.
Shadowheart fumes in silence, knowing it's not worth it to fight the Gith on this at the moment, especially since shadows are coming closer due to the lack of moon lanterns your group has.
"Everyone, quiet down. We should be finding the goblins here soon; they should believe we're part of them." Gale speaks.
"Who made you boss?" Astarion raises a brow.
"I am not acting as the boss; I am merely-" Gale starts before getting shushed by Halsin as the large man approaches the goblins.
"Fellow true souls... We have received a mission here in the shadow-cursed lands... you are to be our... escorts?" Halsin tries. Astarion rolls his eyes at the bad acting, knowing he could have done better.
The goblins raise their gnarly brows too. Maybe the random note you had all found in the goblin camp wasn't very accurate anymore... oh well-
Wyll seems to get a really good idea and pulls out some ugly lyre he must have gotten somewhere – oh wait, the Spider lyre... right... something something on that note about a guide.
"We've brought the Lyre..." Wyll interrupts. Showing the instrument.
"You play?" You ask in a whisper. Wyll stiffens up slightly, realising he doesn't... actually... no one does...
"Give me that." Gale scoffs, using some sort of spell to get it going into a song.
The lyre plays a soft yet eerie tune. Filling the dark lands with sounds it hadn't heard for a while.
Slowly, a bug-like clattering noise came closer. Big exoskeletal legs, by the sound of it. Honestly, you should have expected so. Spider lyre... It's going to be a spider....
"Who have we here? Followers of my lady?"
This strange drider speaks. His white hair flowing slightly in the almost nonexistent wind.
"Followers of the Absolute. They have a thing to do in Moonrise Towers." One of the goblins nods.
"I see... I am Kar'niss, your guide. You'd do best to stay close and not stray from my ladies' guidance." Kar'niss, or the drider, warns. Clutching his strange lantern tightly.
That is before he starts clattering away. Expecting you all to follow.
Lea'zel had already taken your arm tightly, on guard around both the goblins and the drider.
"You have quite a young follower with you." Kar'niss speaks to the two goblins walking closest by him.
The goblins turn to eye you for a moment before nodding along.
Lae'zel tightened her hold on you, almost afraid that the drider would take you from them.
She wasn't that wrong, however, as Kar'niss swiftly scooped you up for observation. And this being was damn tall due to his arachnid appendages. Almost like a centaur, just creepier.
You pale quickly as he looks you over from head to toe.
"I haven't seen a young one in quite some time... My lady would surely like to see you." Kar'niss states eerily. His eight beady black eyes flickering over your scared visage.
"Give them back." Lae'zel demands hastily, her teeth almost bared in honest rage at you being taken out of the group's reach.
"You do not demand of the guide!" One of the goblins yells back at your Gith friend.
Lae'zel then promptly bashes the goblin in with her greatsword.
The group stops moving as everyone tries to guess who is aggressive towards whom.
The hesitant glances only take a moment before a fight breaks loose. About half of your companions immediately try to jump Kar'niss to get you out of his chitin-covered hands.
The drider scowls in disdain as he dodges a spell or two, scurrying away with you firmly planted in his arms. A disadvantage for him since it keeps him from using his sword.
You yell to be let go to no avail; he's taken a fascination and will take you to the absolute.
"Get back here!" You hear Wyll yell angrily as he sprints after the both of you. As a folk hero, he does run quite quickly. Perhaps Lae'zel could beat him if she wasn't preoccupied with slaying the leftover goblins out of rage.
You yelp in surprise when Kar'niss starts scaling the wall like a true spider. Making your body weight lean onto his chest due to the change in gravitational direction.
The stone brick tower you're being taken up on... is this Moonrise Towers – oh fuck!
Your companions had to give up their chase when Kar'niss got too far since they were now left without the protection of the moon lantern.
---
"And who might this be?"
A foreign voice speaks with great intensity as you're presented by the drider.
"I have found a little one in our ranks." Kar'iss explains. You'd been recently immobilised by spider threads. Sticky and restraining against your skin.
"And this is of note... why?" The old man before you asks. A dog made of solely bones lay by his side. The grey-bearded man wears quite the imposing armour, glinting in the sinister light of Moonrise Towers.
"I had presumed since you miss your daughter so... you'd appreciate a new young one." Kar'niss speaks.
You're flabbergasted. The old man is flabbergasted. You're somehow both just as perplexed at such a suggestion.
Your head suddenly pangs with a painful twist. A voice speaking to you telepathically.
'Child, do not trust Ketheric Thorm... Do you hear me?'
The voice booms in your head. It's quickly silenced as this supposed Ketheric sets a gauntlet-covered hand upon your head.
He seems to have noticed your mind's intruder.
"Do you serve the absolute, child?" Ketheric asks in a stern manner, the gem of his headpiece sparkling slightly.
"Uh.. yessir. With my life, body and soul." You declare in what leftover confidence you can muster up.
You realised you'd need to keep up the act of a mindwashed subject before you got killed out of suspicion.
"Come." Ketheric demands of you, his deep voice shivering down your spine as if audibly bass-induced.
Your mind debates on whether or not to do as he says... Do the followers of the absolute still have a shred of free will? You don't recall the answer, so obedience it is.
You now stand before this intimidating-looking man. The unfamiliar voice in your head silenced sheerly through his imposing aura.
The man grasps your jaw in his armoured hand. The cold metal practically sears into your skin. Causing a mild flinch. You hope it isn't that noticeable. Wouldn't want your act to drop.
Ketheric finishes his observations of you. Moving his hand in a fluid motion from your jaw to the side of your face, tucking a strand of your messed-up hair behind your ear in a slightly soft manner.
"Bring them to our paladin. She will keep her eyes on them and ensure proper training." Kethric decides in a grave tone. Letting Kar'niss take hold of your upper arm to drag you down into the tower, via the actual stairs this time.
Paladin...? What are they going to do? Teach you sword fighting? Aren't you a little too... magical for that?
A dull thud in the back of your head springs to life again. It's been getting worse ever since you got taken from the party...
Kar'niss drops you off at a familiar-looking drow woman, who is currently sharpening her greatsword on a grimy grindstone.
"You!" The woman gasps as if you personally disgraced the ground she walked upon. You recognise her now... The woman on the beach who had intended to kill you while you lay there vulnerable.
"Maybe..." You murmur awkwardly. Her hair still reminded you of your mother, though the comparison was making you increasingly uncomfortable considering she was part of this cult.
The drow goes over the details with Kar'niss briefly before almost hoisting you up by the arm.
"Barely any muscle to you. And Ketheric wants you trained? Pathetic welp." The woman snarls.
You recalled the drider had called her Minthara, so that was what you decided her name was.
She went on to grumble about being saddled up with burdens, one after another, as she dragged you towards a training area.
You were unceremoniously handed a sword. The cold grip of it feeling heavy against your skin. Being used to staffs and smaller daggers... this was a mile out of your comfort zone.
To your complete surprise, Minthara came running up towards you with a sword of her own. Slashing down at you without a shred of mercy behind her ruby eyes.
You let out a startled grunt as you block the attack just in time. Your arms immeadiatly bursting with warmth from the unfamiliar excersize, straining your muscles greatly.
"Lazy sorcerers. Can't even hold a sword." The drow snarls as she thuds the blunt side of her swords' handle into your abdomen. Making you buckle down and heave for breath. The attack rendering you breathless and in pain.
By the gods... where was the party when you needed them?
-------
"What do you mean, we can't go to Moonrise towers alone?" Gale snaps at the leader of the Harpers.
After your sudden abduction, they had ran around the Shadow-cursed lands in desperate search for you. Hoping dearly that wherever you were was safe.
Everyone was a bundle of nerves, ready to explode.
No one even dared to look at Halsin or he'd just go bezerk.
Jaheira was telling them of plans to infiltrate Moonrise towers, and that the party could under no circumstances go in alone and disrupt the Harpers' careful planning.
"If this child you speak of really got taken by a cultist, then they will be there. Alive or not." The female druid repeats once more. That little 'not' unsettled everyone greatly.
"When- When are you doing this attack?" Wyll pipes up, trying to stay calm and focused, as a folk hero should.
"In two days, we will strike from the bridge. You are all free to fight alongside us... or don't. Perhaps you plan to take advantage of the chaos of the battle to find this child?" Jaheira questions, obviously having better things to do than search for a child that isn't hers.
Lae'zel was bordering on furious, having to choose between wanting to be mad that the Harpers would assume they'd dishonour the art of war or being angry that they couldn't go get you sooner.
Off in the corner, Shadowheart was busy trying to get Karlach to stop crying. Whether the burning thiefling did so to try and score pity points or because of genuine emotion... nobody knew.
It's not like the tears could roll down her cheeks, as they evaporated rapidly.
"Fine, fine. We'll find Y/N during the attack." Gale almost spits. Honestly, he was scared out of his mind right now, imagining you dead on the floor of some cold dungeon cell.
Lae'zel attempted to snarl in protest, which Astarion hesitantly stopped, earning him a hateful glare from the Gith.
"I just hope they're safe..." Karlach sniffles, wiping a burning tissue over her red cheeks.
"Let's just aim for alive..." Shadowheart cringes. Not wanting to imagine the torture you're in.
------------
"I said high swing, not mediocre lopsided goblin swing!" Minthara screams at you, you're currently seeing spots, as you've been relentlessly sword training for the past two days.
The low amount of sleeping hours you're permitted, along with the meager diet and bad overall vibe of Moonrise towers, has been bringing you into great fatigue.
The drow woman did not seem to notice, though you've heard drow are often raised on harsh training like this...
Your knee almost gives out as she barks at the goblins on the side to stop yelling about being used to insult your technique.
"Again, Y/N. Now or no dinner." Minthara barks. You almost groan in exhaustion, you really needed dinner...
To your absolute delight, the alarm sounded, the tower was under attack, you presume. Maybe your party finally came for you... You almost gave up hope.
Before you can slink away into the crowds of fighting goblins to try and spot Halsin's height or Lae'zels' war cries, you're grabbed by your trainer.
Minthara quickly shuffles you away with her to what you presume is a safe room. Under the instruction of Ketheric, no doubt...
There went your chance of saving. The woman covered your mouth with a rag to shut you up in case you called out for help, standing guard at the door.
Goodbye hope....

Yayyy! A chapter (kinda).
Not as long as I wanted it, but I figured doing all of Act 2 in one chapter was a bit too much; there's still a whole bunch after Y/N's rescue. Don't say hi to Act 3 just yet.
Will make a post to bundle all the links regarding this series together because I'm getting lost myself. Also, holy space being I have 170 followers on here? Like, hi everyone? What the heck. Thank you <33
The exam period starts now, so I'll see what I can post. Sad ;(
From an overworked interior architect to you all, do not study architecture-related things; it's actually hell.
BTW is Grammarly bad as a grammar checker?
Until the next one :3
#yandere#yandere x reader#xreader#oneshots#platonic yandere#gender neutral reader#gn reader#bg3#platonic bg3#baldurs gate astarion#platonic yandere bg3#shadowheart#bg3 ketheric#ketheric thorm#minthara#laezel#karlach#platonic yandere x reader#platonic
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