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verbenaa · 16 hours ago

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to eden | chapter eleven

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/Rin (F! Tav) 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 14.4k 🤡 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: fingering (f!receiving), piv sex

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎:

“What in the hells were you thinking?” Rin resists the urge to flinch at his words, something raw in them that sends a rush of guilt, of all things, through her; though she’d never admit to it out loud. “Do you mean ‘thinking’ in general or about something specific? I have lots of thoughts, you know,” She says airily, and it’s very clearly the wrong response if the disbelieving huff Astarion lets out was anything to go by. He fixes her with a look of sheer incredulity as he steps closer, his hands finding and gripping her shoulders as he leans down to meet her eye-to-eye. “I think you know exactly what I mean.” He hisses out, brows lowered angrily over claret eyes glittering in the near-darkness as they bare into her.

𝒶/𝓃: oooh a snazzy banner! we'll see if I keep it but I made it, and therefore it shall be seen. wonderful screenshot is courtesy of my love @xxnashiraxx who was kind enough to make a few rin/astarion ones for me! I'll be sure to post them soon 💚 let's just pretend it didn't take me 2 months to write this 😅 much love to you all who read this silly story of mine, you keep me going!

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The wine was good but not nearly good enough to distract Rin from the dull ache in her chest; thankfully free of knives but not completely from pain, it seemed.

She’d take it for the price of being alive, however. A little bit of soreness was a fair tradeoff for waking to see another day, in her opinion.

She had awoken earlier in her tent alone, half-naked and with a blanket pulled up around her with care; the metallic tang of blood still resting heavy on her tongue along with a thin line of tender pink now decorating the place between her shoulder and breast.

Waking up topless with no memory of getting there is probably something that should concern her, and no doubt would have given her some pause only a few months prior, but she’s rather unbothered by it this time around, surprisingly.

It must have been because she could smell him there, the faint scent of herbed brandy lingering in the air around her—a telltale sign that none other than Astarion himself had been present at some point or another.

It warms something in her to think that he had spent any time with her, even if he only stood there for a moment and left, though she’s fairly certain that she had seen a flash of downy white curls darting away through the tent flap just as she had begun to regain consciousness.

However, she had also been rather woozy and half-convinced she was still in her dream, and a rather indecent one at that; sleep still weighing down upon her as she had forced open her tired eyes.

And so, once she had sufficiently risen and was able to sit up without being overtaken by bouts of nauseating dizziness; Rin had grabbed the clean pair of clothes helpfully folded and placed beside her and wearily made her way to inn to make use of one of the baths, rinsing the dried blood out of her hair and scrubbing it off her skin before trudging down to the bar for a much-needed drink.

She lacks a bit of her usual verve as she takes a long sip of the cheap wine she holds in her hand with a sigh, elbows pressed into the bar top as she props her face up in her spare palm, staring ahead at all the varying shapes and colors of glass bottles kept lined up in front of her.

There’s the vaguest sense of eyes following her every move, cataloguing each and every movement of her body as she sits and drinks from her goblet; but she doesn’t have the motivation at the moment to put much effort into figuring out who, exactly, it is that’s busy stalking her.

She has one very good guess as to who it may be, having spotting another streak of white dash out of her peripheral vision as she had exited the bathing room just a bit ago, and she now has little doubt that Astarion is there somewhere in the grand room behind her, lurking in the shadows.

Rin doesn’t know why, precisely, he’s lurking—or has taken pains to watch over her, for that matter—but she doesn’t have the energy to puzzle out his intentions right now.

It’s not like they ever make much sense, anyway.

For when it comes to Astarion, everything was a contradiction.

For every cool, judgmental glance he sends her way, there will be another one that she could swear was full of warm fondness following after it. And for every insult he huffs out to her face, full of the trademark haughty chill that she’s come to know—and adore, despite herself—there’s almost-sweet words whispered into her ear later that night as his arms wrap around her and his lips descend onto her own.

And despite the icy, seemingly impenetrable aura that surrounds him, Rin feels like she’s noticed the slow thaw of his eyes with every glance he sends her that he thinks she doesn’t notice, the frozen claret of his gaze melting little by little into something akin to the soft warmth of mulled wine.

Especially after that night.

She swears that Astarion looks at her differently now, although she’s not quite sure whether it’s a good or bad thing where he’s concerned.

The memory of it was still hazy, as though she were viewing it from beneath the water, the picture distorted and wavy when she relives it in her mind. But there isn’t a world where she would be able to forget the feeling of his lips against her fingertips with such an impossible gentleness that she had never known of him before.

She also vaguely remembers desperate, beseeching words falling out of her mouth at an alarming rate and something about begging him to stay with her, the memory one that has her fighting off a deep, all-consuming wave of embarrassment every time she thinks of it.

She’s grateful, in the end, that Astarion hasn’t seen fit to bring up the events of that night either and was instead content to just pretend it never happened.

He had declined her offer to stay, to say the least.

The truth of it hurt just a little bit, if she were to be fully honest with herself.

If she possessed more intelligence—and maybe a healthy dose of self-respect to go along with it—she would stop reaching out towards him and simply let him be, let him indulge in her the way he wants and quit saying such things to him, but she can’t seem to help herself.

No matter the pain in her chest when her heart beats, captive to his attentions against her better judgement, the part of her mind that houses a tiny, fragile little piece of hope keeps telling her that maybe if she keeps trying, one day he’ll take her up on everything she’s offering and find her worthy.

As it were, though, they continue their conversations by the fire. They play their card games and she strums her lyre while he reads his books or does his stitching and mending.

They continue having their nighttime rendezvous that leave her feeling things and wishing for things that she probably shouldn’t, things she doubts sex is supposed to make people feel and wish for—innocent things like the wonder of soft kisses and the holding of hands and whispered sweet nothings.

Astarion doesn’t strike her as the type to be all that interested in that sort of thing, and she supposes he’s made it rather clear that he isn’t; but a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

She’s more than willing to indulge herself in watercolored, pastel daydreams of sweetness and affection at this point, and it’s a sorry state she’s been pushed to but, alas.

She can no longer help the fact that she seems to be harboring quite an unfortunate and undeniable collection of terrible, horrible, and very true feelings for Astarion.

Feelings that are unfortunately beyond the realm of a simple crush and verging into the territory of a certain word she’s unwilling to voice aloud even in her own thoughts.

They may have the best sex together that Rin has ever had, full of all sorts of enticing and borderline unspeakable acts; but it doesn’t change the fact that she seems to be nursing a decidedly innocent and earnest amount of care towards him.

Tender, soft things that she’s never felt before.

The sort of feelings she’s read about in novels where noble paladins whisk away their maiden loves to share chaste kisses in flowering meadows and wooded glades, and she should find that sort of thing to be utterly boring—the sort of fantasies meant for the very young or very old or very dull.

And yet, she doesn’t.

No, of course it couldn’t be that easy.

Instead, she now finds herself yearning for such things to be shared with him.

Astarion was possibly the farthest from a knight in shining armor that one could get and she herself was no one’s definition of a virginal maiden, lacking a vast majority of the qualities required, but that doesn’t stop her from thinking about and wishing for girlish fancies of love.

Not to say that she still didn’t think about the more sensual aspects of their relationship, because she certainly did and with great imagination, but now even those thoughts were tainted by imaginings of sweeter things—the feeling of his arms wrapped around her waist after a night of passionate lovemaking or waking up to his soft, teasing kisses before being pinned to a bed and having her body lovingly explored before breakfast.

And it’s all his fault.

For as much of an absolute idiot and arrogant, haughty, pompous mess of a man he is; she can’t help that Astarion seems to have stolen a tiny bit of her heart for himself.

He always has been a good thief, a far better one than Rin knows what to do with.

He’s not even that kind to her and he doles out a scolding far more often than he ever doles out a true compliment. He’s selfish and ruthless and a liar.

But there’s something inexplicably there that has her hungering for more than just his body and what he offers her in the darkness of the night.

Perhaps it was a sort of mutual understanding, some sort of shared camaraderie between them that goes beyond her ability to put into words—the way they fall so effortlessly together as if it were simply meant to be, whether exchanging words back and forth by the firelight or falling into a tangle of limbs and lips with which they whisper their worship to one another within the sanctity of the night, a hymnal for them only.

But no matter what it may be, she cares about him. Beyond that of what she cares for her other companions or anyone else who has come before.

No matter how unrequited that care may be.

Rin resists the urge to drop her head down onto the bar in defeat, settling on making a soft noise of disgust instead as she takes another long drag of her drink.

How dare they portray falling in love as something effortless and graceful when it was neither of those; for there was nothing soft or sweet or elegant about the way she’s falling for Astarion.

Instead, she’s suspended in a free fall above a pit of her desperation and despair filled with love letters of her own writing and the softly glowing candlelight by which they make love; and it will not be a soft, gentle landing when she finally touches down upon the ground but instead a brutally hard meeting with little grace.

The absolute nerve of it all.

It’s possibly the most terrifying thing she’s ever felt, and she had been practically dead a few hours ago.

Rin throws back the final dredges of her wine with one last sigh, setting the dented silver goblet back onto the stained wood bar, the grain of it marled and warped with both age and use.

She’s only just put a few coppers down and stepped away from it when the one and only Astarion himself, somehow the eternal figure in both her most coveted dreams and nightmares, beelines towards her from some shadowed part of the hall, materializing as if out of nowhere.

There’s a strange energy about him, tension visible in his limbs and a certain tightness on his features as he nears her that sets Rin slightly on edge as her eyes follow him.

He breezes up to her, the insincere smile plastered onto his face not terribly convincing and she’s somewhat surprised by it. Astarion, for all his overwrought dramatics, was a much better actor than whatever it is he’s attempting to portray now.

He stops just before her, his head tilting just slightly to one side as his eyes catalogue her, raking up and down her body as if he’s assessing something—though what he is assessing, she doesn’t know.

“Ah, darling, you’re awake. I do so hope you’re feeling better, hm?”

She raises a brow quizzically as she observes him, taking in the tight line of his jaw as she muses over the flatness of his words, the strange look in his eyes unyielding.

“Well, I’m alive,” Rin hedges out, suddenly wishing she had another goblet of wine in hand for a variety of reasons. “So, you know, better than nothing, I suppose.”

“Ah yes, it is rather a wonder you survived at all,” Astarion croons with a false loftiness, voice instead hard and unamused.

Carnelian eyes narrow as he speaks and something begins to swirl in the depths of them, Astarion leaning harder into his decidedly poor imitation of a grin; and she’s almost tempted to say that he seemed rather angry.

At her, no doubt.

Not that Astarion ever needed much of a reason to be irritated with her, but she wasn’t sure what she could have possibly done this time to earn his ire; especially when she’s spent most of the day passed out post near-death experience and he’s seemingly been watching over her for some unknown reason, his motivations for doing such a thing still unclear to her.

“Luck must have been looking out for me, I suppose.”

The look he sends her is sharp enough to cut, his words just as piercing.

“Luck had nothing to do with it.”

Without another word, Astarion reaches to grab her hand, his grip harder than expected as his fingers encircle her wrist and he begins to whisk her away towards the main set of stairs.

Rin doesn’t try to resist, simply letting him pull her along without fight to wherever he sees fit, though she does wonder where he’s leading her so resolutely as he marches ahead, taking each step of the stairs quicker than she can keep up with, leaving her to practically trip over her own feet as they ascend.

“Astarion,” she sighs, increasing her pace. “you’re not planning to murder me, are you? Because if that’s the case, I have quite a few points I would like to make in my defense beforehand.”

He doesn’t spare a look behind at her as they reach the top landing, simply pulling her more intently behind him as they round the corner of the banister. “The thought did cross my mind, now that you mention it. However, I’ve decided instead that we need to have a little chat, instead.”

“A chat, you say? How quaint.” Rin raises a brow as they continue along at a clipped pace.

“Yes, a chat.” Astarion sends a rather cutting look back at her this time, which she pretends not to see. “Do you need me to say it slower so you can understand the word?”

He stops towards the end of the hall, seeming to settle on a random door as he finally lets go of her wrist and tries the knob. Rather conveniently, it’s unlocked and the door swings open on old and rusting hinges, squeaking with a sound that has him looking even more irritated, if that were possible.

Astarion sweeps inside without another word, surveying the bland interior.

It was a tiny little thing with barely enough space for a bed and armoire, the floral border of the ceramic wash basin on the nightstand long faded with time and use. Moonlight shines inside through a single leaded window in small, silvered diamonds; the protective dome of Selûne’s blessing around them only illuminating the room more, setting it alight with a strange, enchanting mysticism that almost makes up for the drab and dusty furnishings.

“And this chat requires a private room?” Rin still hovers by the doorway, peeking inside as her eyes rove.

Astarion either doesn’t hear her question or refuses to as he instead turns around and reaches towards her, his hand clasping around her wrist once more to pull her smoothly inside the room.

She’s barely cleared the door when he slams it shut with his other hand, the sound reverberating loudly in her ears as she swallows, biting at her bottom lip.

“What in the hells were you thinking?”

Rin resists the urge to flinch at his words, something raw in them that sends a rush of guilt, of all things, through her; though she’d never admit to it out loud.

“Do you mean ‘thinking’ in general or about something specific? I have lots of thoughts, you know,” She says airily, and it’s very clearly the wrong response if the disbelieving huff Astarion lets out was anything to go by.

He fixes her with a look of sheer incredulity as he steps closer, his hands finding and gripping her shoulders as he leans down to meet her eye-to-eye.

“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He hisses out, brows lowered angrily over claret eyes glittering in the near-darkness as they bare into her.

“You’ll have to elaborate, Astarion.”

Guilt once again climbs up her spine with sharp claws that needle into her; though she has nothing to be guilty for, in her opinion.

“You want me to elaborate? Alright then, darling, have it your way.” He bites out, face so close their noses would touch were she to lean in the tiniest bit. “I mean what in the hells were you thinking when you jumped straight into danger like that, allowing yourself to be made a target? Perhaps you weren’t thinking at all, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Ah.

She raises her chin, attempting to look down at him, though she doubts it has the effect she wants it to when his expression doesn’t break, eyes still glinting in time with his rising temper.

“Well, I was thinking about it being a way to distract them from the portal, if you must know. It wasn’t a complicated strategy, Astarion; I would have thought even you would have been able to figure my plan out using a little bit of logic.”

He fixes her with another look of reproach and this one does have her flinching underneath the weight of it, her eyes darting to the side to focus on anything else in the room but him.

“Oh, there was no logic involved in that decision, you simply made a choice and did it without a second thought. I know you better than that, darling; so give me credit where credit is due.”

Rin’s cheeks flush beneath the weight of the growing remorse beginning to build in her chest as she moves her gaze to stare at the silvered light coming in through the window right above his shoulder. “I—”

She’s struck speechless as she loses the strength in her expression, fighting off the uncertainty that she feels threatening to expose itself across her features as she tries and fails to formulate something to appease him, all of the words that come to the forefront of her mind suddenly seeming inadequate in the face of whatever it is that he’s throwing her way.

One of the hands on her shoulders slides up her neck, coming to cup the back of her head, drawing her eyes back to his as his fingers bury themselves into the silken strands of her hair. “Do you have any idea how stupid that plan was? It worked, I’ll grant you, but have you no sense of self-preservation?”

It had been rather risky. Irresponsibly so.

But she had managed to down several enemies and evade multiple attacks at first, before that dagger had hit her and sent her spiraling into the dirt. And they had been victorious, which was a very important detail that Astarion seemed to be rather conveniently glossing over, in her opinion.

Self-preservation was a tricky thing to have when you were someone like her—on one hand, it’s the only reason she’s stayed alive as long as she has; but on the other, she would have also likely died starving on the street if she hadn’t thrown her sense of caution into the wind every so often in order to take a few risks.

It feels like it matters even less so, now. There’s so much on the line, the number of things weighing down on her shoulders multiplying by the day. A little risk on her behalf seemed a worthy sacrifice in the name of success.

“Does it matter if I do?” She asks plainly, and it’s perhaps the most honest she’s ever been as her eyes still stare into his own—darkened emerald meeting the achingly familiar crimson.

It wasn’t like how it used to be, where if she neared death there would be no one there to save or revive her, no one to even care if she died facedown in an alleyway. Now, she had people who carried some semblance of concern for her livelihood and would heal her, in the event she needed it; even if it was only so that she could continue to help them meet their own needs.

It’s more than she’s ever had, and that was good enough for her.

“I—well, no I suppose not.” Astarion’s eyes narrow as he looks at her sharply, something tremulous in his gaze as he bites out his next words as though they hurt, “But perhaps it matters to me.”

Rin barely has time to puzzle out the meaning of the words as they muddle her mind before Astarion leans forward and his lips find their way to hers to steal every ounce of her attention.

There’s nothing soft or sweet about the kiss—it’s a hard press of his mouth against hers fueled by his ire, but it still has her lashes fluttering shut and her arms rising from her sides to twine around his neck as she responds in kind and that piece of her heart that has his name emblazoned upon it soars in her chest.

‘It matters to me.’

She’s never mattered to anyone, and it’s with a damning, soul-crushing desperation that she wants the sentiment to be true.

Rin feels dizzy as she hears the words again and again in her head as his lips work against her own, as though it were a token of whatever sort of affliction it is that they share for one another and the thought has her lovesick heart beating twice as fast.

She’s too wrapped up in the meeting of their lips to notice Astarion slowly moving them backwards, only realizing the motion when her spine collides softly with the wooden door behind her. She lets out a brief noise of exclamation which he only swallows up, the hand not buried in her hair snaking its way down her body to find her waist, wrapping around her form and tugging her ever closer to him.

They press so close she almost thinks that they could fade into one another as Astarion licks at the seam of her lips in a bid for entry and she eagerly parts them, his tongue sweeping inside to find her own.

A soft noise escapes his throat at the taste of her, the sound of it sparking a thread of want to life deep in her belly as she smoothes herself against every inch of him.

She’s out of breath when they finally part, foreheads pressed together as they both take in lungfuls of air. Astarion still clutches her tightly against him, his fingertips hard against her skin as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear were he to let go of her.

“Astarion,” Rin breathes out, a multitude of questions burning hot on the tip of her tongue. “What did you mean—”

He cuts her off before she can finish, his lips moving down to capture her thoughts in another searing kiss that has her sighing, lips moving together again as her heartbeat clangs against her chest in a staccato rhythm that he can no doubt hear.

They only break away from each other when a sharp sting erupts on Rin’s lip, drawing her away from their kiss with a quiet sound of exclamation, soft and almost indiscernible, as the needle-sharp point of one of Astarion’s fangs accidentally pricks the delicate skin.

Her lip pulses as he leans away from her just enough to catch a glimpse of the tiny incarnadine dot blooming on the plush of it like a single, glittering ruby in the dim moonlight.

Astarion’s eyes darken as he watches the blood well up on the petal-soft pink of her bottom lip, growing heavy and threatening to drop down onto her chin like the sweetest of syrups, dark and rich.

His gaze gleams as he eyes the sight of it and an elegant hand comes to rest just beneath her chin, keeping her face perfectly upturned towards his own. With aching slowness, he leans in and glides his tongue across her lip to lap up that single, blooming drop of her blood with a low moan as he savors the flavor of her.

“Always so delicious, even if it’s just a taste,” Astarion murmurs low, and a ribbon of heat cascades through her being at what she sees flashing so openly in his eyes, something deep and unnameable that has her breath catching.

“You’re welcome to more, if you want it.”

It’s a heady, whispered thing as it leaves her lips and she’s unsure of whether she’s only offering up her blood or instead all of her—every piece and part of her person for him to do with what he may.

His mouth descends on hers in another heated press, their moans twining together as he pushes her harder against the door and something in their kiss twists at the metallic taste of her blood as it smears across their mouths.

Astarion shifts as he gently sucks at her lower lip, collecting another small sip of her as his leg slides smoothly between her own, parting them as he steps impossibly closer.

He doesn’t stop until his thigh pushes up against the apex of her own, another flash of desire kindling deep in her belly as her hips wiggle instinctively against him and gods, did it feel good even through all the layers of their clothing.

She can’t help the quiet hum of pleasure that falls from her as he presses himself against her harder and his hands stroke down the curve of her waist to find her hips, fingertips tight against her form.

Astarion helps to guide her hips in a fluid motion along his thigh, tiny little movements that serve to help the soft beginnings of her arousal grow into something more—something deeper—that she can’t resist the temptation of.

It’s all too easy to work herself against the firm muscle of him as his lips leave hers to run along her skin instead, drawing across the lines of her jaw and cheek towards her neck.

“Does it feel good?” Astarion mouths at the elegant column of her throat, soft kisses melting into her skin like a balm.

“Yes,” She whispers as her hips glide against the leg between her thighs, heat beginning to burn hot and intense. “You can bite me, if you want.”

Rin lets her head roll to the side, freeing up more of her for him to taste and explore, relishing the feeling of his lips moving across her neck; the allure of the sharp sting of pain, his icy bite, only serving to make the feeling coiling deep all the brighter.

“A tempting offer, my sweet.”

Astarion licks a line up the side of her throat as if following the blood he can no doubt smell flowing through her veins and her back arches involuntarily, pushing herself further into him.

“However, I think you’ve lost enough blood for one day.”

“Very, ah—” Astarion pushes his thigh harder against her, the pressure increasing on her covered center and interrupting her train of thought. “—considerate of you.”

“I have my moments,” He murmurs, and it’s near impossible to think when his lips work to entice her to forget about anything and everything else outside of him, head dizzy with mounting pleasure that he stokes higher. “I can make you feel even better, too.”

“Astarion, we should go find the others. Halsin needs—”

She starts to speak, only to be stopped by lips pressing against her pulse, sucking at her skin and undoubtedly leaving a mark she’ll be unable to explain away as anything else.

“—he’s waiting for us to—”

Another futile attempt at words as a hand slides up her front to cup at her breast, weighing it in his palm before squeezing gently.

“—talk.”

Astarion’s head lifts from her neck, brow raised imperiously as his eyes turn razor-sharp and he focuses on her with the full brunt of the intensity brewing in the depths, her stomach bottoming out at the sight.

“Halsin can wait.”

His lips find hers in another heated kiss that has her going pliant beneath him and it’s all she can do to simply tighten her hold against him as the hands on her hips help her grind against his thigh.

She’s a mess when they finally break apart for air, cheeks flushed and breath heavy, pupils blown wide with desire.

“You never answered me earlier,” Astarion breathes the words into her ear, his thumb running over her taut nipple still hidden beneath her tunic as she shivers. “Tell me, darling, do you want more? Or should we stop here?”

He’s terribly genuine when he asks, and it’s touching that he seemingly cares about her limits, though he seems to be disregarding the fire he’s already set ablaze, and she’s not sure she could stop now even if she wanted to.

Thankfully, stopping is the last thing she wants.

“Don’t you dare,” Rin channels a bit of his own imperiousness, stomach tightening in anticipation of whatever is to come. She doesn’t care what it is, only that she wants it with him. “I want more.”

Astarion’s barely touched her over her clothes and she’s already so desperate for him that it’s undoubtedly pathetic, but she couldn’t care less.

“Oh? Alright then, sweet thing. What is it that you want? Where do you want me to touch you then, hm?” Astarion’s answering smirk threatens to destroy any remaining will she has left, though she’d gladly throw it to the side for a taste of the ecstasy she knows she can only find with him. “Show me.”

Rin wraps her fingers around the wrist of the hand he has poised upon her breast, still tracing maddening circles around the hardened peak of it, and begins to pull it down her form.

His fingertips brush over her stomach and lower, mapping against the contours of her body until she finally stops, his hand coming to rest right above the place his thigh presses against her.

Astarion moves his leg away just enough to make room for his hand and cups her covered sex, rubbing lightly. “Here?”

Rin nods as a quiet moan escapes from her lips, her hand still encircling his wrist as she widens her legs.

“Needy girl, aren’t you?” He runs his lips across her temple and she’s helplessly under his spell when he speaks like this despite how much she wishes she were more immune.

She can feel the sly smile on his lips against her flushed, heated skin as he adorns a kiss upon her cheek, his hand rubbing against her again.

“I like that about you, very much so. Now tell me, my dear,” He whispers again into her ear, his lips caressing the shell of it with every word he speaks, sending a shiver down her spine as she rolls her hips into his palm in search of relief. “How do you want to be touched?”

Gods, he’s a menace to society—to her, specifically.

“I—” Rin’s breath hitches as he manages to touch right over the bundle of nerves above her center, her brow creasing in pleasure. “I want your fingers. Inside me. Please.”

“Your wish is my command.” Astarion chuckles as he runs his hand up and over her front, finding the band of her pants and slipping quickly beneath it with ease as her breath catches in her throat, skin on fire with the contact.

His hand pushes past the barrier of her underwear to delve beneath, fingertips gliding through her center to find her more than ready for him and he wastes no time, filling her with three of his fingers.

She keens as he sinks them deep, the fullness utter bliss as her own dig into his skin, nails biting crescents into his shoulder through his shirt at the delicious sting of the stretch.

His lips find hers again in a surprisingly innocent kiss despite the decidedly not-so-innocent movement of him inside her cunt, digits slowly moving in and out to acclimate her to the sudden but welcome fullness.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Astarion moans against her mouth as he pumps his fingers, curling them with a near brutal precision that has her crying out against his lips. “You’re positively soaked.”

She wishes he wouldn’t call her such things if he didn’t mean them, but she soaks up the word anyway, letting it settle over her as he presses another kiss to her lips and thrusts once more into her wetness.

“Only for you,” She pants in admission as he finds that spot, running his fingers over it as he pushes his tongue between her lips to find her own, quieting her cries and any further words from her.

Astarion’s merciless as he curls them, the heel of his palm rubbing against her clit with every motion he makes as he strokes her closer and closer to completion.

“Come for me, darling.” Rin could swear he was almost begging her, and the thought sends another bolt of intensity straight to her core. “Please, I need to feel you.”

It’s his murmured ‘please’ that gets her, a note of growing desperation in that single word that has her giving into the want burning bright inside her, stoked so high by him and him alone.

She can’t think of a single time he’s ever said the word to her, and perhaps it’s for the better because she’s not sure she could ever stand to deny him when he says such a thing, especially like this.

He curls his fingers just right once more and she comes, hips writhing; Astarion and the hard wood of the door behind her the only things keeping her upright as he works her through the waves of euphoria that flow through her limbs.

She attempts to quiet the sounds of ecstasy falling from her lips, though she finds it hard to manage when Astarion whispers praise into her ear—a cascade of beautiful, and perfect, and good girl that have her cheeks heating in a way that has nothing to do with the precious heat curling through her.

It’s become a recent habit of his and she can’t complain, though she perhaps wishes that his praise didn’t affect her so—that such words didn’t leave her yearning for even more from him, hopeless as that wish may be.

The wave finally recedes, leaving her breathless in the wake of it and his fingers slow but don’t retreat from her warmth as she relaxes her hold on him, head rolling back to hit the door behind her as she sighs in happily sated relief.

“Have I ever told you how wonderful you feel when you come on my fingers?” His lips almost burn as he peppers them against her skin in scorching little kisses placed wherever that he can reach—the softly pointed tip of an ear, her flushed cheek, the column of her neck.

“Is it better than when I come on your cock?” His fingers still move, albeit slow and gentle inside her; and her hips already begin to rock into his touch again. “We could always test it out, I guess. If you want to, of course.”

Astarion pushes her further into the door and the evidence of his own arousal, so sadly ignored thus far, presses against her as he nips at the line of her throat. His bite isn’t enough to break the skin but it’s enough so that she can feel the sharp points of his fangs drag across her neck and she shudders, another broken moan falling from her lips.

“I quite like the sound of that.” His fingers leave her and she withholds a whimper at their absence as his hand slides out of her pants to take ahold of hers instead. “Bed, darling. Now.”

He leads her towards the small bed and Rin barely has the time to kick her shoes off before Astarion’s pulling her pants and underwear down her legs and off and has captured her lips in another kiss.

She’s unsure he’s ever kissed her so much and so ardently, every brush of his lips against hers both painfully passionate. The indulgence of it makes her head spin and she revels in the feeling of being in his arms as she returns his every kiss, filling each one to the brim with the sentiment that burns itself into her heart more and more with every passing day.

Her hands trace up the lines of his stomach as she raises his shirt, lips only parting so she can pull it over his head and off before trailing her fingertips across his newly exposed marble-smooth skin, cold and beautiful but so familiar to her now, and she thinks she must know every line and indent of his form as well as he knows her own.

She can make out the hard outline of Astarion’s cock through his pants, and the sound he makes when she runs her fingers over the shape of him has a smirk alighting along her mouth as their eyes meet.

Rin’s fingers drift across him once more, touch teasing and light as she traces the outline of him, before joining his own at band of his pants to help pull them down and off. His motions are infinitely more graceful than she could ever hope to be as he finally rids himself of clothing, moving himself to lay down upon the simple bed.

Astarion settles himself in the center, leaning back against the simple wood headboard, utterly ethereal as every line of his form is perfectly illuminated by the beams of lustered moonlight that steal through the leaded panes of the window, setting him aglow.

“Rin?” Astarion questions as he reaches a hand out towards her, and she can almost barely believe he’s even talking to her, that she’s the one here over all the rest of them.

He could have had his pick of the others, and yet he picked her—unimportant and not very talented and somehow still wearing her tunic despite nothing else, and she doesn’t understand why he’s found her to be the one deserving of his attentions.

But she’ll take it. She’ll take every tiny bit of affection from him and relish it because there’s no getting back from him what he’s already taken from her.

Rin looks down at the hand he holds outstretched between them before glancing back to his face. His expression is strangely open, no hint of the forever-present seduction veiling his eyes, instead only a clear desire burning bright and alive.

She raises her hand and places it within Astarion’s own, his fingers enclosing over hers before pulling her onto the bed and towards him. Rin finds her place with hips poised just above his own, knees bracketing his form as he rests on the stale quilt beneath them.

His cock twitches when her bare center brushes against it, her stomach tightening in anticipation as his hands find her waist, fingers running over the indent of it almost absentmindedly as he captures her gaze.

“How do you—” Rin clears her throat, her nerves aflutter for a reason that she can’t quite put her finger on, but something feels different tonight. “How do you want to do it?”

“Just like this.” His hands are rhythmic as they caress her skin over her shirt—which she still needs to rid herself of, irritatingly—and her breath stutters in her chest as he rolls his hips up to meet hers, his length brushing against her wetness.

“Are you sure, Astarion?”

He’d been on his back so many times, he’d said so himself to her before. She doesn’t want to just be another number, another memory for him to regret in the litany of others he no doubt still harbors the images of in his mind.

If she must be a memory for him—for she knows she will, inevitably, be only such—she wishes to be a tiny, bright spot in his centuries of misery. Even if her presence is only for a short time, Rin hopes that he will think back on her with some degree of fondness when they finally part.

“Please. You’re in charge tonight, darling. Show me what you’re capable of, hm?” There’s that please again, and it once more threatens to ruin her and only serves to prove that she’s positively helpless when he says such things.

Rin lowers her hips to run her slick over his cock in a smooth motion, the head of his length brushing against her clit as she glides across him.

“Saying please twice in one night, Astarion?”

Their gasps both echo low in the room as she repeats the motion again, hips rolling as she coats him with her essence.

He sucks in a breath as she moves the tiniest bit faster. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late, I’m afraid. I think I like it.”

Astarion scoffs but doesn’t make to correct her, instead canting his hips up into her own as she moves, upping the friction building between them.

“Well, if I’m in charge then, it’s your turn now to tell me.” Rin leans down to press a kiss to a small, barely noticeable freckle upon his chest, nestling his hardness between her folds as her hips slow to a stop. “What do you want, Astarion? How do you want me to fuck you?”

Rin lets her lips drift across the plane of Astarion’s chest as she waits for his answer, feverish against the chill of his skin until she finds the perfect, pink peak of one of his nipples. She runs her lips lightly over the edge of it and relishes the soft surprise of his gasp beneath her, hips bucking up into hers as she teases it.

He lets out a wanton moan as her mouth attaches to the taut bud, flicking it lightly with her tongue to taste before wrapping her lips around the tip and giving a gentle suck.

“I want—” Astarion breaks off to take a breath, his hands burying into her hair as she unlatches from the bud and begins searching for its twin, laving at his chest with warm brushes of her lips and tongue.

His hips press intently into her own as Rin finds the other, giving it the same worship as she lets him grind against her in search of relief and his breathing stutters before he finally manages to groan out, “I want you to ride my cock, you sweet, sweet thing, while I enjoy every moment watching you.”

She detaches from his chest with a final brush of her lips in a soft, reverent kiss before sitting back upright and rising up onto her knees with fluid grace. She’s perfectly poised above him and aching to lower herself onto his waiting length as he grasps himself in hand, ready for her. “Well then, your wish is my command.”

Astarion manages a raise of his brow at her mimicked words before his expression breaks, releasing a low sound instead when she finally moves herself down onto the head of him.

She sinks slowly, body parting readily for him as she eases herself onto his cock. They both hiss at the contact, Rin throwing her head back on a low moan as she moves down inch by blissful inch of him until her hips finally meet his own.

“How do you want it?” She’s fully seated upon him, his hardness deep, as she adjusts to the feeling of him nestled inside her like this on a breathy sigh. “Tell me how you want me to ride you.”

She can feel every bit of his length and girth like this, the head of him hitting the back of her core as she sits on his hips and it’s all she can do to keep herself still, instinct grumbling at her to move or grind or something, but she doesn’t want to move. Not yet.

Not with the way he’s looking at her.

Astarion’s hands trace over her still-covered waist, fingertips light as he skims the lines of her beneath her tunic and his eyes skate across her form, glancing on every inch of her as though marveling at the sight of her atop him.

“This dreadful thing off, to start.” He begins to push her tunic up her form, which she gladly helps him with, her fingers bunching at the hem to pull it off her head. “I want to see every perfect inch of you.”

Her shoulder is still tight and she winces slightly as she peels the fabric off, the fresh line of pink just above her heart still achy.

She drops it off the side of the bed as she raises herself up slightly before lowering in a smooth motion that has both of them sighing when she seats herself back upon him. “And second?”

His hands find her waist, thumbs rubbing against the newly bared skin as he glides them up, skating around the curve of her breasts and teasingly passing across the peaks of them before moving back down to anchor themselves on her hips.

“Second—” He sucks in a breath as Rin grinds down, no longer able to keep still and in search of friction, her own lips opening in a quiet gasp. “Slow. Start slow, darling.”

“Slow is good,” She breathes out in blissful exhale as she moves once more, hips rising up until he’s barely inside her. “I can do slow.”

“Can you? Patience has never been your strong suit.” Even now, there’s still an air of haughty arrogance in his voice, but she no longer finds it quite so maddening and instead it’s practically charming—it’s simply Astarion—and it’s nothing if not a sign of how doomed she is when it comes to him.

Rin smiles down at him before lowering herself and taking all of him back inside her in a single motion. “I’m willing to try, for you.”

“Let’s see it then, dearest.” Astarion’s eyes gleam as she speaks those particular words, the hands on her hips tightening their grip.

They both luxuriate in the leisurely drag of his cock as she moves up and down, unhurried and content to simply feel the sensation of him inside her; his hands moving everywhere he can touch and the warm golden skin of her hips meeting the cool milky pale of his own every time she lowers herself.

She keeps the tempo slow and it’s somehow just what she needs, the pleasure curling unhurried in her stomach the antithesis of the way he had brought her to her peak so quickly earlier.

Astarion, too, seems to be under the spell of it all; quiet moans and hands attached to her form, moving up and down her torso to touch all of her that he can reach—up the line of her waist to palm at her breasts, down over her hip and around to rub against and squeeze at her behind, over her stomach and teasingly down her front only to stop just before her center.

“Now, roll your hips,” Astarion groans as Rin obeys, adding a flick of her hips as she moves herself above him. “Yes, darling, just like that.”

Astarion’s grip flexes on her hips with a low moan as she grinds herself against him again, lips parting and he’s beyond beautiful beneath her bathed in the soft, barely there light of the moon.

One of her hands travels up her form, running over his own as they caress her skin to palm at one of her breasts, thumb running over the hardened peak of it and the motion catches his eye.

She cups it in her palm before giving it a soft squeeze, her hips still rolling as Astarion leans his head forward, something wicked glinting in eyes still connected with her own. Rin moves her hand aside to instead card through his hair just as his lips connect to her skin, mouth opening and tongue running along her as he captures her nipple between his lips.

His hands grip harder around her waist, steadying her as he sucks at the bud, and Rin’s back arches into his mouth on a breathless moan as his hips begin to move beneath her, working in time with her own.

His tongue plays with her, moving between both of her breasts to tease at the peaks—licking and flicking and sucking at her skin as he lavishes attention to them.

“Astarion,” Rin breathes out on a particularly hard nip of his teeth, the sound more of a moan than anything else as her hips stutter and her grip tightens in his hair.

With a smirk, he gives a last playful nip before lowering himself back onto the bed, resettling himself beneath her as his eyes skirt up and down the vision of her above him. “Don’t be too loud, love.”

Together they once more move in tandem, their soft sighs and murmured moans falling into the air around them as he gazes at her and she down at him, eyes connecting as he thrusts up into her with slow, perfect rolls of his own.

Rin had always thought that moonlight never really suited her, the darkened gold of her hair and sun-warmed skin better to be seen under the bright, buttery rays of the Faerûn sunshine.

But as Astarion stares up at her as though she were some sort of mythic deity and just as enchanting, hands sure on her hips as he guides her up and down his cock, she thinks that perhaps she was made for the silvery light of the moon with its cool touch and even cooler hue, not so different from Astarion himself.

“You’re beautiful, you know.” The hands curled around her hips squeeze as he speaks and it’s not with his patented salaciousness that he says the words but instead with a sort of reverence that weaves through every letter to form the sentence.

She doesn’t know how to respond to such a thing, her cheeks warming with a kind of want that has nothing to do with the way their bodies currently work together; so she simply does not, letting out a breathy moan instead as his cock meets the end of her on a thrust.

Astarion’s laying it on thick for her tonight, but she doesn’t care because the emotions he stirs up in her are all too real.

She’ll let herself pretend that he means the words and the affection and it can be her own little fantasy that she can escape to in her moments alone when she thinks and dreams about what it would be like to be more than whatever it is they are together.

The idea of wanting him to be something else—something deeper, more meaningful, treasured—is one she knows is nothing more than a pointless fantasy.

But she can’t help but want it.

Their eyes stay meeting as Rin leans over his chest, placing her palms on the hard muscle over his un-beating heart as she works her hips up and down in slow, fluid rolls; his cock heavy inside her and it’s as if the red thread that Rin sees tethered between the two of them in her dreams tightens ever so slightly to pull them ever closer to one another.

“Is this how you like it, then?” She gasps out, desperately trying to push the treacherous musings of love out of her mind as she rocks herself against him and he meets her every movement, bodies in perfect unison as heat snakes throughout her form.

“I like everything with you.” The words slip out of his mouth and Astarion’s brow creases at his own admission as her heart skips a beat, the hands guiding her hips tightening their grip.

The tempo of their bodies speeds up in the wake of his words, Rin moving quicker as her palms press harder along the planes of his chest, hair cascading down in a shining curtain as his gaze turns fevered, no doubt mirroring the same look that he can see in her own.

Astarion quickly brings a hand up to bury into the locks at the back of her head and drags her down for a kiss, lips burning despite the slight chill of them as they touch her own.

Her heart beats fast against his still one as she lowers herself down, their chests pressing together and hips moving as Rin lets her kisses drift from his mouth to find his jaw, lining the edge of it with lips like a brand as she works them towards his neck.

She nips at the line of his throat, blunt teeth lightly catching his pale skin, and the effect is better than Rin could have ever hoped as Astarion gasps beneath her, his hips stuttering against hers as he moans.

Rin relishes the sound of it, placing soft bites up the column of his throat as he writhes beneath her, the hand still buried in her hair grasping at the strands in ecstasy as she makes her way back across his jaw and to his mouth with a soft kiss.

“You feel so good,” He murmurs against her lips as the hand on her hip moves to grab her ass and the pace of his thrusts increase, hips snapping up into her own as he squeezes her flesh.

She shudders as Astarion’s thrusts grow hard and fast, the crown of his cock hitting the end of her each time as he brushes against every part of her, sending sparks of pleasure burning through her veins as the pressure building deep in her stomach nears its peak.

“Can you come for me again, my darling? You promised to come on my cock, didn’t you, Rin?”

“Anything for you,” she breathes out, a confession unbidden, as his lips capture hers in another kiss, his hips rocking up into hers with an intensity she can no longer keep up with, giving her body over to the building flame inside her.

White-hot heat cascades through her as the coil of heat inside her cunt snaps and she tightens around Astarion as she comes, riding the wave of euphoria rising over her as she cries out.

She shakes above him, hips grinding down onto his and she only half-hears Astarion’s answering groan as she clenches around him. His name falls from her lips on a broken sound as she buries her face into his neck and works through the intensity.

“Gods, yes.” The hand on her hip tightens to a vice, his fingertips pressing into her skin hard enough to leave bruises.

She’s clenched around him, body still coming down and hips only just beginning to slow when Astarion follows her over the peak, spilling himself inside of her on a last, hard thrust as his hips buck into her own.

His hips rut into her own as his fingertips dig into the softness of her skin, grip hard as Rin sighs his name one last time before she finally relaxes, all the tension flowing free from her as Astarion moans intelligible words into into her shoulder, hips beginning to slow to a stop.

Rin makes no move to disentangle herself from him as they both finally still, moving her face from the curve of his neck to rest instead on the hard, cool muscle of his shoulder, sweat still slick on their skin as she breathes in shallow pants that slowly even out.

She’s not entirely sure how much time passes that they stay pressed together in the aftermath—it could be no more than a minute for all she knows—only that she realizes that it felt so right to get to rest with him like this.

She wishes it could last forever.

Rin’s still lying atop Astarion, her cheek pillowed upon him as his touch runs up and down her spine in soft brushes of his fingertips, but can’t yet find the strength to pull herself up and away from him.

She should move, though. She doubts that he actually wants her lying on him like this, as comfortable and content as she may be.

But Astarion also doesn’t seem terribly intent to let her go, either; with his arms still encircled around her and hands drawing absentminded little patterns across her bare skin as he lays beneath her with eyes closed.

Curious.

She’ll think harder about it later when she’s not still caught up in the hazy, opalescent wonder of the afterglow. It won’t be long until she’s forced out of it, anyway.

No doubt Astarion will be making his exit soon enough.

The hands on her back still and her eyes blink open as they move to grip her waist and Rin finds herself rolling, a noise of surprise escaping her lips as her back hits the bedspread and Astarion now hovers above her.

“Hello, darling.” He smirks down at her, crimson eyes shining in the dim light.

Rin reaches up to twine her arms around his neck, fingers delving into the hair at his nape. She’s unable to help the small smile that curls on her lips as she looks up at him.

“Why hello, Astarion.”

His softening length is still buried inside her and she shifts slightly beneath him as one of his hands comes up to touch beneath her chin before he lowers his lips onto hers, the press soft and chaste as he gently pulls himself from her body.

Rin doesn’t move, his come threatening to spill from between her thighs and she simply watches as Astarion backs off of the bed and away.

A bitter disappointment threatens to break through the soft contentedness that she tries and fails to push back down as he stands to his full height near the mattress, silent as he bends down to gather the mess of their clothes left forgotten on the floor.

That was it, then.

The moment was over and he was done, and now he would leave just as he always does. Astarion would leave and it would be up to her to clean up the mess of her own heart, just as she deserves.

With an expression she hopes doesn’t veer too much into resignation, Rin catalogues the sight of him in the silvery light one last time before he escapes the room alone, watching as the muscles of his form shift and turn while he pulls his underwear and pants up in a smooth motion.

Her attention, however, doesn’t go unnoticed; Astarion gracing her with a gratified smirk as he reaches into his pocket, nimble fingers fishing out a small, delicately embroidered handkerchief.

“Like what you see, darling?”

He’s far too self-satisfied for her liking, but they both know that she can’t exactly deny that she does, indeed, like what she sees.

He hands the handkerchief to her to clean herself before bending down to grab for another garment and Rin takes it, eyes briefly roving over the small vines crawling up one of the corners before gently wiping at the remnants of him between her thighs.

“I suppose I’m becoming rather partial to the sight,” Rin admits, though the truth of it no longer feels quite so much like a burden to speak out loud, however much a weakness it still may be.

When he rises again, it’s with his smirk still in place as he holds her discarded underwear hooked around a finger, dangling helplessly by its side. “Oh? Anything else you’re becoming partial to?”

Rin leans forward to snatch them before he decides to steal them away from her instead on a hmph. She wouldn’t put it past him to hide them away in some hidden pocket of his and make her go without simply for the fun of it.

“Well, wouldn’t you like to know.”

Gracelessly, she slides them up her legs and secures them around her hips before flopping boneless back down onto the comforter. On a quiet sigh, she closes her eyes to take a steadying breath, the only sound in the room the soft rustle of fabric as Astarion sorts through the pile of their clothing on the floor.

Silence draws out between them, not uncomfortable but strange in its normalcy as Rin fights back the reticent emotion swirling in her chest, waiting for Astarion to break the peaceful stillness to leave with one of the patented phrases he relies on to excuse himself and wander away with.

Well, it’s been lovely, darling.

I’m sure you have other things to attend to, hm?

I’m afraid I must bid you a good night.

And he does break the silence, although it’s not with the words she expects.

“Are you quite alright?”

There’s a quiet sort of concern she’s unfamiliar with in his words and she’s unsure he’s ever really even bothered to ask her such a thing before.

“Me?” Rin’s eyes snap open in quiet surprise before she turns her gaze to where he still stands nearby. “Oh, I’m fine. Just resting for a moment, that’s all.”

Resting before it was time for her to face whatever news Halsin had waiting for her—she vaguely remembers hearing distress color his voice before she had fallen unconscious and no doubt whatever news he carries won’t be the kind of news she wants to hear.

Astarion grins as he pulls his shirt over his head and tugs it down his slim form, and Rin gives a silent goodbye to the disappearing sight of his chest and abdomen. “Don’t tell me I tired you out too much.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself.”

He throws her shirt at her in response, his aim annoyingly perfect as the tunic lands in a rumpled mess over her face and she huffs beneath the fabric.

With a long sigh, Rin grabs the garment off her face and pulls herself to sitting only to find Astarion staring at her with a bemused look. He strides over and snatches her shirt out of her hands with a quick, nimble fingers; shaking it out as if that would somehow help the wrinkles already forming deep creases in the cotton.

“Are you truly so hopeless, darling, that you can’t even dress yourself today?” He shoots her another pointed look as he sighs dramatically.

There’s a flutter of fabric and suddenly Rin’s vision goes white as a veil of soft cotton covers her sight momentarily before being pulled down, cutting off her answering argument that he hadn’t even given her a moment to attempt to redress had she wanted do.

And she did, naturally. It’s not like she could just wither away here in this tiny room for the rest of her days, not when there’s a conspiracy abounding in the realm beyond where she lays, despite how tempting such an idea might be.

Without further question, she feeds her arms into the sleeves as Astarion looks down at her with a quizzical brow.

“Well, why do it myself when I have someone willing to do it for me, apparently?” She pulls her hair out from beneath the collar, fluffing it as she smiles up at him, a hint of pink decorating her cheeks.

Astarion steals his hands away lightning-fast as he releases a little noise of bewilderment—as though he hadn’t even fully realized what he’d been doing until the deed was already done—and his spine goes ramrod straight as he takes several quick steps away from her before turning around to compose himself, tucking in his own shirt to busy his hands.

She could swear he seemed almost bashful if she didn’t know better.

Rin holds back a laugh at his expense, settling instead on her best attempt at an apology—one she now feels that she likely owes. “I’m sorry, by the way. If I, ah, upset you. Earlier.”

The look Astarion sends her is wry, his mouth working quickly open and then closed around some thought going around in his head before he finally settles on what was a rather diplomatic response, in her opinion.

“Just do us all a favor, darling, and promise you’ll use that head of yours to think next time around,” He sighs and Rin withholds the strangely elated smile that threatens to curl at the corners of her lips.

‘It’s the strangest thing,’ she thinks as she watches him from her spot on the edge of the bed and finally pulls on her pants, ‘that he hadn’t left yet.’

The Astarion-of-every-other-night would have left her lying there naked as he skated away from her and snuck out the door, escaping any and all possible further interaction or implication as he was so talented at doing.

Tonight, though, he seems to be surprisingly at ease with it all.

He even helped her dress, of all things.

And surely enough, he still makes no move to exit the room without her; instead attempting to run his hands through his hair and set it back to rights as he simply stands there.

It feels like something of a revelation. Like a gap between them subtly closing—another step taken nearer to each other instead of farther.

“Here, let me help,” Rin says as she finally makes to get up from the bed, stretching her arms up and ignoring the slight pull of her shoulder before padding across the wooden planks in his direction.

Astarion turns towards her as she raises up on her tiptoes, her fingers finding and running through his downy locks as she parts the strands this way and that.

There’s a strange, warm connection that seems to have formed between them and it has something like butterflies fluttering in her stomach as he just waits patiently for her to finish, looking down at her with no irritation on his face, no distance in his eyes.

If anything, he almost looked happy—if a little bit awkward—but that couldn’t be quite right.

However, Astarion apparently was very much present and seemingly content to be so, if the way he moves a hand up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear was anything to go by.

Rin runs her own through the front of his hair one last time, a smile blossoming onto her lips. “There, I think I’ve about got it.”

“Is it perfect? You know I’ll accept no less,” he teases, brow raised in that familiar, haughty way of his that has her heart skipping a beat.

“It’s as good as it’s going to get. But you always look perfect, so I don’t think there’s much to worry about.”

Naturally, Astarion doesn’t argue, and Rin has the distinct feeling that he desperately wants to preen under her praise, however odd such a thing would be.

He certainly doesn’t need her to tell him how handsome and lovely he looks, not when his ego does it enough for the both of them.

“I hope I look presentable enough,” Rin sighs as she turns her head in search for a mirror before spotting one hanging above the wash basin and she steps over to it, the silver tarnishing with age at the edges.

“You look as presentable as ever, I’d say.” Astarion hums as she shoots him a look, brow raised in suspicion.

Rin returns her attention to the mirror in front of her, arranging her hair around the purplish-red mark blooming along the line of her throat in an attempt to hide it, the strands not doing nearly enough to camouflage it to her liking. “A rousing vote of confidence if I’ve ever heard one.”

He tsks and she hears the soft sound of his footsteps moving across the floorboards, his presence drawing nearer until she can feel him standing just behind her, only a hairsbreadth between them.

One slight step backwards and her back would find the wall of his chest, and she can’t help the errant question of whether Astarion would allow her to be so close for no real reason like that.

“Darling, you know I wouldn’t let you walk around looking like a fool.”

His voice is terribly close to her ear and her breath threatens to stutter in her chest at the nearness. She keeps her eyes on the mirror ahead of her, hoping that her expression doesn’t betray the breathless anticipation that has begun to spark to life in her chest.

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”

Astarion leans in to close the final bit of space between them, the weight of his chin meeting her shoulder just as his hands bracket her waist.

“Well, I think you look good, in my very esteemed opinion. What’s not to like the look of, after all? Flushed cheeks, lips well-kissed by yours truly, hair just begging to have fingers run through it.”

He huffs the words without any real irritation and it’s a pity she can’t see his reflection, for she desperately wishes she could imprint the sight of him like this into her memories. Rin settles instead for memorizing the feeling of him—the precise weight of his jaw as it rests upon the curve of her shoulder, the way his hands fit so perfectly around the indent of her waist, the closeness of their bodies.

“Why, I think you look positively enticing as you are right now; and if you didn’t insist on being so responsible I, personally, wouldn’t mind enjoying another round with you.”

Lips she feels but doesn’t see press a soft kiss to the place where the love bite he left on her neck colors her skin like a brand—his brand—and it sends a rush of something through her.

“Incorrigible flirt,” Rin turns her head to smile at him where his face is perched on her shoulder as her cheeks go pink again—the absolute traitors. “I suppose there’s always tonight, if you’re so needy of me.”

“Don’t tempt me too much, darling.” The hands at her waist give a light squeeze before he steps away and turns to the door, clearly expecting her to follow as he reaches for the knob. “Now, let’s go find all those other people that are in such desperate need of your conversation.”

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

Astarion paces down one of the long hallways of Last Light Inn beside Rin, her vibrant eyes currently turned very resolutely forward as one of his hands finds its way to settle gently upon the curve of her lower back.

He’s not entirely sure why or how his hand has found its way there, only that it somehow had, as though it had a life of its own—one that he was, apparently, not in charge of.

It was something he would consider rather disconcerting were it not for the fact that there seemed to be a great deal of happenings recently that he wasn’t entirely sure how or why they kept…well, happening.

His common sense, it seemed, had flown the coop where his fair bard was concerned, and he’s beginning to fear that it may be lost forever.

Said bard herself seemed to be quite intent upon her search for Halsin as she peeks her head into room after room in search of him as he follows suit.

Astarion is fairly certain he knows where the druid is, surely the same room that the man, Art Whatever-His-Name-Was, had slept; and he vaguely considers pointing out the possibility to her, but where was the fun in that?

Besides, he knows that once they find Halsin, it means he’ll have to take his hand off of her and that’s a very un-tempting thought.

It’s a new sort of touch, his hand on her back, gently guiding her along as they walk together; one that is almost, dare he say, gentlemanly of him.

He’s touched her in all sorts of ways, many times over, but never quite like this.

It’s a distinction his brain seems keen to make him acutely aware of, the feeling of his hand resting so casually against her both foreign and treacherous as the errant curiosity of a ‘what if’ sparks to life in his mind.

What if he could keep touching her like this—casual, affectionate, close—and didn’t have to stop the moment they walked into a room? What if he didn’t have to keep his liking of touching her in this new, unceremonious way a secret?

But she’s managed to have that effect on him these days, tempting him in a variety of ways that he’s unused to being tempted by.

It’s all quite puzzling, really.

Astarion glances down at his dear companion, that hand of his still resting against her back as if it were made to be there, the soft curve of her spine perfectly fitted against his palm.

She must sense him watching her as she turns her head to meet his own gaze, brows lowering as she sighs, “For someone the size of a small mountain, Halsin sure is hard to find.”

“Use that pretty little head of yours and think, darling,” He says rather drolly as he looks down at her. Must he do everything for her today? “If you were a giant elf who had bad news to deliver, where would you be?”

He won’t be assessing the fact that concept of helping her does not fill him with the same level of disdain that it should and instead banishes the thought to collect dust with many, many others.

Rin sighs again and he swears that she leans into his touch a little more, and the sudden temptation to draw her even closer is almost too much as verdant green eyes pout up at him.

A dreaded set of words bubble up in his mouth again as he watches her, words that he pushes resolutely back down for the umpteenth time again this evening.

I’m glad you’re alright.

Damning words, is what they are.

Words that he has no right to be thinking.

The first time they had burst into to his mind was right after he had fled her tent to seek refuge in his own, changing out of his armor and cleaning himself up before donning fresh clothes and adorning himself in another dab of his preferred artisan cologne, finishing just in time to catch Rin leaving hers.

Astarion isn’t entirely sure when, exactly, his anger had begun to mount; but it had regardless as he followed some distance behind her all the way to the inn, intent to make good on his assurance to keep watch.

The fact that he had made that assurance to really no one other than himself was beside the point.

And so, Astarion had followed behind her to the bathing room, busying himself several doors down with sharpening one of his many daggers menacingly as he had leaned against the wall. He was not particularly worried about any of the Harpers posing a real threat, as he supposed they had already taken care of the traitorous amongst them, but one could never be too sure.

Either way, he likes to think he was properly intimidating as he did so to any who happened upon him—and all of those who did, in fact, happen upon him promptly turned and walked the other way without argument.

She had been none-the-wiser of his presence as she had finished her bath and made her way to the bar, ordering whatever the cheapest wine available was despite the fact that he knows she had more than enough money on her to afford better.

Watching her drink her wine as if she hadn’t just put herself in undue peril due to her own impulsivity and apparent lack of care for her own well-being, however, had been decidedly infuriating.

And so, the anger that had been holding at a mild simmer began to boil over just enough to make him stupid, and once he had made the mistake of approaching her and smelling the sweet blood that rushed through her veins, heard her speak to him that lovely melodic voice of hers—so alive—he couldn’t help himself.

He hadn’t meant to drag her up the stairs and into that room.

He hadn’t meant to kiss her, or undress her, or to then beg her to ride him until they both found their release together; the scene something he can only imagine the likes of being found in one of those cheap two-copper romances she seemed to so favor.

He hadn’t meant to stick around after such a spontaneous, whirlwind of a moment either, however he seemed to be unable to pull himself away from her this time around.

He hadn’t meant for any of it.

But he’s hard-pressed to be too mad at the results, even if his actions are…ill-advised.

He’s treading a very dangerous line tonight by allowing himself to indulge in the torrent of affection and let a little bit of that seductive mask drop and his preferred armor to fall away to allow more of his actual self to peek through, even if he never meant to do so in the first place.

At the very least, when she talks to Halsin, she’ll talk smelling of him. He can’t help that bit of possessiveness, the jealousy, that he feels so keenly delighting in the thought.

As if his thoughts of the druid summoned him, they finally hear Halsin’s deep cadence several doors down and Astarion withholds a sigh at their success as they continue down the hall only for Rin to stop in the doorway, peeking around the frame of it to glance inside.

He can narrowly make out the small form of a child lying on the bed, eyes closed and chest moving up and down in slow movements as Halsin stands over him, deep in conversation with Jaheira.

With a look towards her, Astarion ushers Rin into the room, his hand vacating its all-too-right place on her back when they step through the threshold.

She glances back towards him at that—just a small, slight, momentary look as she makes her way towards the bed and the two druids on either side of it—and he could swear she almost looked disappointed.

Astarion settles himself against the wall as Rin drifts up to Halsin and Jaheira, her back straight and face properly grave as she does so, long hair trailing freely behind her.

It’s a good performance, all things considered, but he can see the holes in it as he observes her and it’s painfully obvious to Astarion that she’s wildly out of her depth as she examines the child on the bed like she had the same expertise as the druids surrounding her; despite the apparent reality that she could barely manage to keep herself alive and well.

They fall for it though, her latent charm always managing to surface when it counted most as she assures them of things she certainly can’t really hope to promise—things like the answers and victory.

He’s too busy in his examination of her—noticing the way she moves, more graceful than he think’s he’s ever realized before; watching as she carefully controls the expressions that pass across her fair features—that he almost starts when they all turn and begin to file out of the room, Rin sending him a questioning look as she briefly stops by the doorway, waiting for him to follow.

Astarion clears his throat as he straightens, standing tall, as he gestures a hand out towards her. “After you, darling.”

She rolls her eyes but smiles at him anyway, keeping a soft huff of what he thinks is laughter down before moving to catch up with Halsin.

He follows her out of the room and to one of the larger tables in the nearby main hall where the others have seated themselves, falling effortlessly into the chair beside Rin without a second thought.

Wine is distributed, which he gladly takes a goblet of and is quick to begin swirling it around gently in his hand, along with a rather plain assortment of cheeses and dried meats that he eyes with distaste.

They drone on and on about things he definitely cares about, but doesn’t feel objectively bothered to listen to at the moment. He’s not terribly much help in the planning anyway, and will simply go where Rin tells him to and kill what she asks.

He’s always been good at following orders, after all. Whether he wanted to follow them or not.

“I think it’s time for another trip back to Moonrise. We need to find those missing tieflings before it’s too late,” Rin murmurs from beside him, and he directs his attention towards her as he takes an elegant sip of his wine. “We also still need to find Balthazar. We do that after. The sooner we solve that mystery, the closer we can get to ending this all.”

She’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout most of the conversation, only asking what he assumes are the important questions, lacking her usual vibrant charisma. He doubts anyone else even notices, but he certainly does.

It’s a bit unsettling, if Astarion’s being entirely honest.

In fairness, she did almost die earlier today. And then he gave her two more little deaths to make up for the almost real one.

She’s probably very tired—she is still half-human, after all; and they’ve never been known for their stamina or for being terribly hardy.

He frowns as he glances over her profile before moving his gaze down to take in the rest of her. She’s regained most of her color back post-battle, a sight he’s pleased to see.

Paleness didn’t suit her, he’d decided.

His eyes catch onto a movement beneath the table where Rin’s hands sit restless on her thighs—fingers curling and uncurling into fists or tapping against her legs, the tiniest bit of a shake to them. They tremor only slightly, barely there and near unnoticeable, but it’s present.

And Astarion realizes in that precise moment that beneath all of the put-on confidence and casual smiles that she was scared.

He’s known of her anxieties, of course, as he had found himself to be her unwilling confidant several times over in one of her rare moments of vulnerability.

But this is the first time he feels something in his chest tighten at the fact that she’s possibly terrified of the battle that seems to be brewing in front of them.

It’s a rather awful sensation, Astarion thinks. Like someone had captured his heart in their fist and begun to squeeze at the organ with no mercy.

A memory resurfaces on a whim and Astarion suddenly remembers the quiet comfort she had given him only a week or two ago, the weight of her leaning against him in some sort of silent solidarity meaning more to him than he could have ever thought.

He doesn’t give his mind a moment to think or consider or rationalize as he slowly reaches out his hand towards one of hers on an exhale, his fingers closing the distance between them to cover the back of her palm closest to him.

Her skin is just as warm as it was earlier when they had stolen away together, though her hand freezes as he curls his fingers around her own.

Rin cuts him a quick glance, their eyes meeting for a split second before she rights her attention back to Halsin, but it’s enough so she can tell that he’s doing it entirely on purpose.

She lets a shaky breath, relaxing her fingers slightly to let him fully grasp her hand in his own where it rests on her thigh, hidden beneath the table and out of sight from the others—their own little secret.

It’s a light touch, still; their skin only barely brushing against one another’s, but it’s shockingly intimate regardless.

It’s a nice feeling, Astarion decides.

Calming, even.

The small part of his brain that still demands he hold onto the last vestiges of his plan screams at him to stop, that he’s careening towards disaster and that nothing good or useful could ever come of something as inane as hand holding, but he ignores it; instead focusing not on the words being spoken around the table—he’ll be forced to hear it all again later anyway, when she rehashes the conversation to him two or three times over—but on the way her hand no longer shakes now that he holds it within his own.

He’s already done a number of foolish things today where she’s concerned.

What’s one more nail into the proverbial coffin?

Astarion doesn’t quite know what to think, but he finds that he perhaps likes the way she seems a bit more at ease now, a subtle shade of rose beginning to dust across her cheeks, as if his meager contribution of simply offering up his hand for nothing else but the sake of her comfort had blown away the quiet, almost invisible dread that had befallen her.

Curious, indeed.

Rin, for her part, seems lightened by the small connection; and so Astarion leaves her hand within the protection of his own as he busies himself with taking a drink from his glass of wine as everyone else in the room drones on and on, his attention only on her and on the connection of their hands along with the subtle, familiar warmth he’s come to find himself becoming so very, very attached to.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x oc #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #verbenaa writes things!#these two are finally getting somewhere I SWEAR

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raspberry-astarion · 3 hours ago

Text

I made a podfic for this!

Voice acted, read word for word, no sound effects outside of vocal tone to reflect the text

Files for the full version, and both parts separately, on my Google Drive (.wav files)

All of it was recorded and edited by me - a novice without a great audio setup, but I did my best to make it listenable and pleasant. Please enjoy!

Astarion's Forest Scene M4F/NB

Overview: I wanted to write a retelling of Astarion's first romance scene from a positive angle, rather than assuming his initial interest is all a ruse because he has trauma. I like the idea of him reinterpreting his past through a new lens early on and grappling with that. The first chunk is an extension/reimagining of the sexual part we see a bit of in-game, and the second chunk is an idea of the time in between the sex scene and the morning scene: Tav's asleep, and Astarion is in his head about the past. Just be aware there are non-specific mentions, mainly in the second part, of his life with Cazador, and some PTSD symptoms.

Astarion x Tav (gender neutral, they/them, AFAB/female anatomy)

Rating: Explicit (18+) Words: 3.3k Setting: Private forest clearing, after the tiefling party Content: Astarion POV, mlw/mlnb, hook-up, oral sex, PIV sex, biting, blood drinking, PTSD comfort, cuddling

Gender neutral but there's both a male- and female-bodied version of this; I couldn't decide because I'm too bi to function tysm for your understanding~

AMAB Tav / M4M version

“There you are.”

Astarion watched Tav’s head whip around in surprise at the sound of his voice. Good, he thought. He needed them a little off-balance to keep the upper hand.

“I've been waiting,” Astarion growled, drawing closer to his mark, his opening lines rehearsed. “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting… to have you.”

Tav raised their eyebrows as he sauntered towards them. He could smell their blood more and more, metallic and sweet, with just a hint of alcohol left. They were still a little tipsy from the party, but not drunk. He heard their heartbeat quicken.

“Well, here I am,” Tav chuckled nervously.

Luring them away from the party had been simple enough. Laying on the charm had done the trick - a few perfect lines, a pouty gaze, a calculated brush of the hand. Astarion knew from the look in their eyes earlier that he'd won, but it was a nice confirmation to see them now.

Astarion reached for one of Tav’s hands and closed the distance between them. He pressed his other hand behind the small of their back to pull them in for a firm kiss. The warmth of their body against his was invigorating.

Tav melted into the kiss, allowing their hips to make contact. He moved his free hand to the back of their neck and tilted his head deeper into the kiss, their quiet groans stifled by his lips.

Finally, Astarion pulled back and pricked his face into a lopsided smile, regaining control of the situation.

“Gods, you're eager,” he purred. Tav's eyes flicked to the ground, eyebrows knitting with uncertainty. He hooked a finger under their chin to reassure them. “I like it.”

Tav met his gaze again, a small smile appearing on their face. “I suppose I was eager enough that I didn't… ask many questions. About you.”

Astarion’s stomach clenched, unsure of what to expect. “About me?”

“Yes, well… what you had planned for us tonight,” Tav said shyly, looking again at the ground. “Your… preferences. That sort of thing.”

“I've done it all, practically,” Astarion chuckled with relief. Perhaps a bit arrogant, but he was trying to gauge their reaction. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

Tav met his eyes again.

“I want you to be yourself,” they said earnestly.

Astarion felt a catch in his throat and swallowed against it. He couldn't think of a clever quip to respond to that.

“I really want to relax tonight, after all this,” Tav went on. Oh, thank the gods, Astarion thought. They were back in his comfort zone - sex, not emotions.

“I'm just a little…” their words trailed off.

“Afraid to turn your back on a vampire?” Astarion joked. Tav let out a surprised laugh, loud and genuine. Gods, they’re adorable.

“You don't need to worry about a thing,” he said, regaining a more serious tone. “I’ll let you set the pace, darling.”

Tav flashed that sweet smile again, leaning in for a kiss. They were more self-assured this time, placing their hands on Astarion's narrow hips and pushing against him of their own accord, trying to get a feel for him through his pants. He inhaled sharply at the sensation, breaking from their kiss and grinding against them. Tav responded with a little moan, deep in their throat.

“I'll bet you look even prettier under your clothes,” Astarion whispered in their ear, eliciting a gasp. “Perhaps I could see you, to confirm.”

“Perhaps.” Tav untucked their shirt, inviting him closer to their skin. He pulled them in for another kiss, leaning back against a big tree. Astarion’s hand moved down between them, sliding under their shirt. He could feel the heat radiating from their core and knew his hand must be cool against their skin. He worked carefully up over their belly to their chest, feeling their breathing speed up in response to his touch.

Instead of undergarments, his fingers grazed the underside of Tav’s bare breasts. He pulled back from their lips a bit, watching as they smiled and flushed at his surprise.

“What an unexpected treat,” Astarion purred, his fingers moving across their smooth breasts before kissing them again. He gently pawed at them, feeling his own cock pulse in response. Tav gasped a bit, excited at the prospect.

Astarion felt their hands move down and tug at the shirt separating them. He moved out of the way as they pulled it up over their head. He stared admiringly for a moment.

“Gods, I was right. Look at you,” Astarion whispered.

Tav moved in for another kiss, their breasts rubbing against his own bare torso. They feel heavenly, he thought, wrapped up in the sensation. He snaked his hand down their belly and over the outside of their pants, pausing briefly to wait for an objection before feeling between their legs.

A quiet moan escaped Tav’s lips. They thrusted towards him a little, their body close enough Astarion could hear their heart pounding. Gods, their blood must be so hot right now.

“I want your cock,” Tav managed amidst their rising intensity. “I want to see you. Touch you.”

Astarion moved his hands to his own waistband, pulling his weapon free, watching their eyes widen at its appearance.

“Oh,” Tav blurted out. Astarion smirked, unphased. He knew he was beautiful. If he was anything, he was that.

After a second to register the new development, Tav reached for him. Their hand was so warm and soft against his skin. Astarion relaxed as they took him in their hand, letting out a sigh of pleasure.

To his surprise, Tav shifted to kneel on the ground. They met his gaze, searching for his permission to act. Taken aback, all Astarion could do was nod, watching as Tav tenderly kissed his hip, and then his cock. They parted their soft lips and licked at him. It had been a long time since anyone did this for him. Normally, he was the one on his knees, eager, convincing, charming.

Tav opened their mouth and surrounded him, sucking him off. Oh, hells, that feels good. He leaned his head back on the tree, his mind gone blank. Their mouth was so hot and smooth inside. He felt their tongue lapping at the underside of his cock as they worked.

Shit. He needed to regain control of the situation. Recall the mission at hand. Gods above, it was difficult. He put a hand to their cheek and they looked up, pulling their head away from him.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, I just…” Words were evading him. Shit. “Come back up here.”

“Was it good?” Tav asked genuinely, standing to meet him again. “You seem a little-”

Astarion put his finger to their lips, quieting them. He put a hand in their damp hair, and kissed them, hard. He needed them to swoon, to cede control, to let him perform.

Mission accomplished. He felt them melt into him once more, his exposed cock poking at their smooth belly.

“I want to make you feel good, darling,” Astarion whispered, his lips brushing against their ear. “Tonight is for the both of us.”

Tav shivered as he spoke, nodding. He took them by the shoulders and switched them against the tree in his place. He kissed down the side of their neck, to their collarbone and breasts. Astarion took one of their nipples in his mouth and sucked, carefully avoiding contact with his fangs as he did. He could feel them swaying, pressing into him, moaning softly, their heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Astarion moved to his knees, tugging at their waistband and working their pants off. He kissed across their hip bone, mirroring their own actions, slowly working his mouth closer to the center of their pelvis. Tav gasped and wiggled with anticipation.

His mouth finally reached their cunt, where he ran his tongue slowly across, making them shudder. Astarion's right hand snaked up the inside of Tav’s thigh until he reached between their legs, feeling them from below. They're so hot and wet, Gods above. The excitement travelled down through his core and he felt his cock pulse in response.

He looked up at them from where he sat, checking their expression again before sliding a finger inside. Astarion had carefully tended to his hands and nails earlier in the evening, not wanting his claws to interfere. He saw Tav's mouth drop open as he felt for their most sensitive area. He found it with several strokes, giving slight resistance to his touch from inside and making their eyes widen. He joined his finger with a second and put his mouth back to their cunt, lapping at the front of them while he worked.

Astarion closed his eyes and focused on making Tav feel good, using their moans and shallow breaths as guidance. Their pelvis jutted against his mouth as they grew louder.

“That feels amazing,” Tav whimpered. “Oh, Gods, I love it.”

He worked them inside and out with a bit more vigor, glancing up to see their expression. Their head was leaned back against the tree, mouth open and panting. Excellent.

“You look so beautiful,” he purred.

Tav looked down at him, eyelids fluttering. Astarion could feel their thighs and hips begin to shudder. Perfect.

“Oh, I'm-” Tav choked out, eyes widening urgently. “Don't stop, I'm close to-”

Astarion worked even more feverishly, using his tongue and fingers in harmony as they thrusted at him.

“Oh, fuck!” Tav cried out, louder than he expected. He felt their hips jolt towards his face, their cunt pulsing around his fingers. He felt his cock pulse in response, longing to take their place inside.

Tav's thighs relaxed and he felt them start to slide down the tree. He used his shoulder to brace them from between their legs, grabbing onto their hip with his free hand.

“Careful, darling!” Astarion chuckled breathlessly. “A fall would ruin the fun, now wouldn't it?”

He freed himself from between their legs, standing to hold them up while they caught their breath.

“Shall we lay down? Will you be alright without my help?” Astarion asked after a moment. Tav nodded eagerly. He let go and laid out the linen sheet he'd brought along.

“It's not much, but it should keep the dirt off,” he chuckled, eliciting a smile from Tav. They laid down on their side facing away from him, thighs shivering with anticipation. Astarion followed their lead, laying behind them and pulling them into the crook of his body. Such a nice ass.

He disrobed and reached behind himself for the oil he'd brought, Tav peering back at him over their shoulder. He got the bottle open with his teeth and used his free hand to cover his cock thoroughly with the contents. He used the oiled hand to prep them as well, though it wasn’t necessary. They were nearly dripping from before.

“Are you ready?” Astarion asked quietly, knowing what they would answer.

“Yes,” came Tav’s shaky voice back at him. “Gods, yes. Start slow, okay?”

“Of course, darling,” he purred into their ear. “I'll take good care of you.”

Astarion gently pushed their top leg forward with his knee. He put his cock against their most delicate skin, feeling how desperately wet they were before gently pushing inside. Tav gasped and Astarion gave them a moment to settle before pushing himself further in. He kept his hips restrained, moving slowly until he felt Tav's pelvis melt back into his own.

He wrapped his fingers around their hips, pulling them as close to him as possible. They let out a breathy moan, relaxed and open. He rocked forward into them, feeding off their little sounds of pleasure as he fucked them. So smooth and warm. What a nice cunt. He closed his eyes and rested his slick forehead between their shoulder blades.

“Gods, you're so lovely,” Astarion panted at their back. “Oh, darling, you feel amazing.”

“You feel so- oh, so good,” Tav whined, their speech broken up by ragged breaths. “You- oh, Astarion!”

Something tugged uncomfortably in his chest. It had been a while since he’d heard his name said like that. Usually, he avoided giving it out or just lied, trying to avoid attaching his real name to a reputation for luring people into dark alleys. Many people didn't care enough to ask his name at all.

He let them do the work for a moment, grinding their hips back into him as he turned the thought over and over in his head. His mind raced with fragments of nights before.

“Astarionnn,” Tav whimpered, drawing out his name and snapping him back into the moment. “Fuck, you feel so- I’m close-”

Astarion gripped their sides and tilted their hips closer to the ground, using his knee to open their legs wider. Their back arched, pelvis grinding hard against his as they let out broken sounds.

“Ast- oh, I'm- I'm coming,” Tav cried out urgently. He slammed into them, rocking his hips but staying inside as they whimpered and got off. He could feel their heart, smell their blood. Oh, shit. His body suddenly ached with hunger.

“Oh, gods, that was…” Tav glanced back at him as they caught their breath. “Did you…?”

Astarion shook his head, staring blankly down at their skin instead of meeting their gaze. Their scent filled his mind, his stomach aching with the temptation.

Tav’s eyebrows knitted in concern, realizing he'd lost focus. “Are you alright?”

“Your body- I'm starving,” he blurted out. Why in the hells did I say it like that?

“Oh, I thought you… I thought maybe you weren't enjoying it,” Tav said, still panting. “You can have my blood. Whatever you need.”

Astarion's inhibitions melted in an instant. He bit down into their soft, tender neck, feeling their heart pump feverishly as he drank, his hips moving without thinking. The second taste was just as heavenly as the first had been, days before. Mixed with lust and self-satisfaction over his victory, it was nearly overwhelming.

As his hunger eased, he felt his arousal intensify. He started thrusting deep into Tav, hearing them cry out in response. His movements grew more urgent as he felt his self-control slipping. Oh, shit. He restrained his own movements, delaying the inevitable, and reached in front of Tav, using his fingers to work them where they were most sensitive. Panting and whining, Tav pushed their pelvis against his to get as much contact as possible.

“Oh, fuck me!” Tav cried out, gasping for air. “Oh, Astarion! I'm- hahhh-” He felt them pulse around his cock as he’d hoped, the sensation enough to drive him mad.

That was all the self-control he had left. He drank from them needily, breathing spottily, thrusting urgently. He groaned from the very bottom of his chest and came, hard, still latched onto Tav’s neck and buried deep inside of them.

Astarion’s hips and jaw relaxed and he flopped onto his back, panting so hard it made his head light. When he gained the self-awareness to check in with Tav, he saw them on their back, chest rising slower. They gazed over at him, eyelids soft and a little smile on their face.

“That was amazing,” they whispered.

“Yes, it was,” he puffed, still coming down from his own high.

After a few moments of silence, Tav spoke again.

“Astarion… I care about you.”

Oh, shit.

~~~~~

In the early hours of the morning, Astarion lay back amidst the roots of a huge tree. He had propped himself up comfortably, but wasn't ready to let his guard down yet. He’d snuck into camp earlier for a few things, including a blanket, as Tav said they wanted to stay in the clearing for a while. He couldn’t fault them for it - he hardly felt ready to face the others himself, to answer questions about what they’d been up to.

He looked over to where Tav lay sleeping, head resting on the ground close to his thigh. Their warmth was enticing, but he didn’t want to be touched. Astarion glanced at the small puncture wounds on their neck, remembering how good they had tasted. How they had trusted him.

He chased the thought away. Surely they'd only given their blood over in the heat of ecstasy. But even an hour later, he felt steady and fulfilled. Had they wanted him to feel this way? Were they even thinking straight in the moment? Astarion had given himself, and they drank greedily, selfishly even, but not maliciously. Could he say the same for himself?

I did what I had to, he thought. What he'd done to Tav, charming them into bed to gain their approval, was hardly the same as what had been done to him. Manipulative, certainly. But the moment he'd been waiting for had finally come, and he'd seized it.

He looked up through the leaves to the clear night sky above, hoping to drift away from his own thoughts. His muscles felt warm and relaxed from a fulfilling meal, yet his stomach churned uncomfortably. What in the hells is wrong with me? Astarion had slept with thousands of people in the past two centuries, but tonight had been flavored with something unfamiliar. The feeling wriggled just out of reach when he tried to pin it down.

A chilled breeze caused Tav to stir in their sleep. Astarion glanced down, noticing the blanket had fallen from their shoulders. He adjusted it with a light tug, trying to fix it without waking them. He wasn’t ready for whatever they might say. He’d been rendered speechless by their admission before.

Why should it matter to him? He’d heard similar things out of the mouths of perfect strangers, drawn in by his charming facade, confusing lust for love.

Then again, none of them survived the night.

Astarion’s stomach roiled with the realization, feeling like he might be sick. He hadn’t slept with anyone who lived to tell of the encounter in two hundred years. He couldn’t even remember who he’d been with before he turned; only that he hadn’t been inexperienced. Cazador hadn’t needed to train him in the art of seduction.

Astarion’s legs tensed with the very thought of his captor, as if his body was preparing to run at a moment’s notice. His thigh jerked, disrupting Tav from their peaceful sleep. Gods damn it. Not now. Please, not now.

“Wha- Astarion?” came their quiet voice, bleary and confused.

“Yes,” he choked out, staring up at the sky to avoid their gaze. “I’m here.”

“Oh,” Tav muttered, remembering where they were. “Are you all right? You look… pained.”

Astarion closed his eyes, swallowing against the lump in his throat. Tav didn't know about the hell he'd endured. They didn't need to know. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a little… restless, that’s all.”

“Will you lay with me?” they asked, voice soft with concern. “I know you don’t sleep, but…”

“I suppose so,” Astarion said quietly, after a pause. The prospect was so foreign, but sounded almost pleasant. This openness is but a small indiscretion; nothing more. He could work on regaining control of the situation tomorrow. At first light.

He slid down the tree to lay on his back, willing his muscles to loosen up. Tav snuggled into the crook of his arm, resting their head on his shoulder. The warmth of their skin against his was calming, like laying near the campfire.

The exhaustion of the day before seemed to wash over him all at once. He'd been completely satiated, hips weary, stomach comfortably full. He could feel the gentle waves of rest lapping at the edges of his mind, begging him to finally fall into a trance for the night.

“Thank you,” Tav whispered, their breath slow and hot against his bare chest. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion pov #astarion fic #podfic smut #astarion podfic

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jennifer-jeong · 9 months ago

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Smut | AFAB!Reader Somnophilia

SUMMARY He gets needy while you're sleeping but you don't mind

CONTENT NSFW, 18+, smut, fluff sprinkled in, consensual somno, nipple play, clit play, penetration, m and f orgasm, creampie, doggy, lots of kisses, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

WORD COUNT: 1848

GOJO SATORU, KAVEH, AVENTURINE, XAVIER, ASTARION Wanderer, Boothill, Dan Heng, Marius Von Hagen

It was one of those days where you immediately collapsed onto your bed when you got home, not even bothering to do your nightly routine before allowing sleep to wash over you. You quickly pulled off your top, bra, and pants to put on a random t-shirt you found on the ground, probably belonging to your boyfriend. You opted to just sleep in this and your panties. It was around 9 pm, the summer sun still finishing its setting, but you were so exhausted you figured you’d just sleep now and maybe get up early.

Around 11 pm, your boyfriend, after noticing you were asleep and getting ready for bed quietly, sneaked into your shared room to join you for a good night's rest.

He laid down to your right, looking at your cute sleeping figure. You were sleeping on your back, turned slightly to the right, peacefully slumbering.

He propped himself up on an elbow to give you some forehead kisses, using his free hand to caress your soft face.

Laying back down, he dug his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him, groaning as he exhaled and snaked his arm over your waist.

“Fuck.” He thought.

You always smelled good but why was it doing something to him right now?

Maybe it was that you were wearing his shirt, clearly without a bra. Maybe he was just extra pent up today. Maybe it was how your curves felt as his hand slowly rubbed up and down on your hips. Maybe it was that his hand was reaching up to your chest, rubbing at your nipples through the thin fabric. Maybe it was how your body still reacted so sensitively to him even while you slept, your sensitive buds already hardening under his touch.

He stopped for a second, feeling bad that he was doing this to you while you slept. Even though he knows that you two have already talked about this, and that you were actually very insistent that he was allowed to do something like this, he still hesitated.

After some more internal debate, he decided he’d just be gentle with you. His goal was to slowly wake you up and if you didn’t want to continue he’d apologize profusely, even though he knew you well enough to know that you definitely wouldn’t mind if he woke you up like this.

His hand returned to your body, slipping under the shirt you were wearing, feeling your smooth skin as it traveled up to your chest again. He kneaded your bare breasts, thumb playing with your still hardened nipple.

Somehow, his little internal debate and his decision to continue was making him even more hot and bothered. It was the fact that he thought so deeply about the situation and made himself deeply aware that he was doing this to your body without your conscious knowledge.

In any other situation, he’d feel wrong about this, but with the trust you two had in each other and with how long you’ve been dating, it was actually turning him on more. Knowing that you loved him enough to trust him with your body like this. Knowing that he’d let you do the same in a heartbeat. Knowing that you’d probably be as turned on as him right now if you were awake.

Fuck, you were so perfect for him.

He needed to show you how much he loved you and just how badly he needed you.

He sat up, kissing at your neck and collarbone as he made his way between your legs.

When he removed the covers from you, he noticed you were just wearing panties under. A cute pair of white lacy panties, they were a design that was comfy enough for you to have worn throughout the day but somehow you still made them look as sexy as lingerie to him.

He hooked a hand under your leg to position himself properly while his other hand pushed your shirt up above your chest to reveal your pretty tits to him. His hands then both went to roll your nipples between his thumb and finger before sliding down, admiring your waist, your curves. Your skin was so smooth it drove him crazy. At this point he was painfully hard and breathing heavy just from worshiping your body.

Maybe if you weren’t so exhausted, you would’ve woken up and told him to continue by now, but you really were fully knocked out.

His hands continued south, grabbing the top of your panties to pull them down and helping you take them off, taking note of the wonderfully filthy fact that strings of arousal connected you and the fabric together. The sight made him clench his jaw and also served as evidence that he should keep going.

He held your legs apart slightly, not wanting to force you to stretch too much. He lined his tip up with your folds, rubbing his pre cum in with your arousal before sinking his tip in. His mouth hung open as he watched where you two were connected with lidded eyes.

He fucked you with his tip a bit despite the fact that your body was already ready for more. You shifted in your sleep a bit and he let go of your legs to let you position yourself however you wanted. You turned more onto your right side so he started to hug your left leg as he eased more of himself into your gummy walls.

He was so fucking sensitive, the drag of his length on your slicked walls felt so fucking good. After a few more thrusts, he easily bottomed out in you. He cursed under his breath, thinking about how perfectly you fit around him, as if you were made just for each other.

He started a slow pace, fucking you slow, hoping to wake you up soon.

You started to stir, slowly regaining consciousness as he slowly thrusted into you. At the same time, you started to react to it more too. Quiet moans starting to slip out of your mouth which only encouraged him further. The wet sound of his length massaging in and out of your core added even more to his need for you right now.

Soon, you shifted more, now onto your stomach. He separated from you to let you get comfy, assuming you might still be asleep but hoping you were waking up a bit at least. He sat between your legs as you laid on your chest, he kneaded your ass and spread your folds to see your pretty self covered in arousal.

“Hmm…? Baby?” You slurred, sleep in your voice evident. You lifted your head slightly, eyes still closed, waiting for a response.

“Hey sweetheart, sorry to wake you up and to do this while you’re asleep-” he apologized before you cut him off with a displeased groan.

“Why are you apologizing baby?” You continued sleepily as you spread your legs further, pulling a pillow under your stomach to prop yourself up onto your knees, “keep going, feels s’good.”

“A-are you sure?” He questioned one last time.

“Mmhmm I’m sure baby, you know I like it,” you replied, laying your head back down to rest it on your arm, closing your eyes.

Your boyfriend exhaled shakily, leaning over your back to pepper kisses over your exposed skin, shirt still pulled up all the way. “So good to me,” he whispered into your skin as he eased himself back into your needy cunt.

You were insanely turned on at this point. Knowing that he initiated this and that your body was responding to him despite being unconscious was fucking hot. The fact that he needed you so badly but still made sure to check if you were okay with it made your head spin. God you loved this man.

He started to thrust into you slow, drawing long strokes where you could hear the slick slide of him going in and out so clearly. His jaw was slack, hands gripping your ass as he could barely keep himself upright on his knees from how good it felt.

He threw his head back as he started to speed up, the light “plap” sound filling the air and adding to your arousals.

Your brow furrowed as you started to moan into the pillow, slowly actually consciously perceiving the pleasure he was giving you.

“Y’fill me up s’good baby,” you hummed, breathing heavy.

“Fffuck… You’re such a good fucking girl f’me.” He replied, panting just as heavily as you. “Gonna make you feel good yeah? You deserve it.”

He leaned over you and snaked a hand around to rub at your neglected clit, wanting to at least attempt to make you feel as good as you were making him feel. But you were squeezing him so tight, he wasn’t sure if anything could feel better than this.

His free hand started playing with your tits, rolling and pinching at your sensitive nipples. You were still partially awake but the raw pleasure he was giving to you made you feel like you were dreaming. Him stimulating your tits, clit, g spot, stretching you out at the same time, and the delicious drag of him on your walls was dizzying.

He started to get more rough with his thrusts as he felt your pussy twitch around him, indicating you were getting closer, also bringing him closer to his high. Pure desire was taking over the man as the slapping of your skin together started getting louder, rhythm getting faster.

You could feel him twitching in you at this point as his small whines and groans started to turn into louder moans, his eyes turning into hearts, watching where you two were connected.

Your bliss plus your lingering exhaustion prevented you from forming a more proper sentence so all you could manage to tell him you wanted to finish together was “ngh… i-inside baby… please mmm- hhngg.”

Both of you tumble over the edge together as you clamp down on him as his body shakes, trying his best to ride out both of your highs. Waves of pleasure continue to rack both of your bodies as you moan in unison. He continues to give you light thrusts and toy with your clit as you both come down.

After overstimulating both of you for a few strokes, he pulls out to admire the cum dripping out of your twitching hole.

Sleep starts to take over him though so he quickly cleans the two of you up, fills your water bottle and jumps into bed.

He was going to whisper some sweet nothings to you about how much he loves you but you had already fallen fast asleep. But, it didn’t stop him from giving you lots of forehead kisses while holding you close to his chest and it didn’t stop you from nuzzling into his neck subconsciously. Both of you expressing yourself without needing words. You both slept very well that night.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

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bloodsuckingfiends · 11 months ago

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Astarion likes missionary sex. Likes being able to see his love’s face and the way their body reacts to his.

He loves being able to lace his fingers with theirs, and press their hands to the mattress. It grounds him just as much as the steady eye contact does. Doesn’t matter if he has to coax them into it, murmuring “eyes on me, darling” as he rolls his hips into theirs.

He loves the way he can hold them close to his chest as he comes with their thighs wrapped around him, completely engulfed in one another.

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kittenintheden · 4 months ago

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When I Think About You

surprise jorkin it PWP fic drop lol. enjoy.

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Astarion/Reader (You) Word Count: 1550 Content: 18+, jealousy, voyeurism, masturbation, mutual masturbation (sort of?), pillow humping, gender-neutral Tav/Reader

AO3 Link

You went to bed early tonight.

Well, earlier than you typically do. Not that Astarion has been paying you much attention. Hardly any, really. You’re just easy to miss.

Notice. You’re easy to notice. Because you’re so obvious.

Obviously annoying, obviously infuriating, obviously determined, and obviously infatuated with him. True, that had been his goal, but hells, you could blush a little less at his come-ons. Even if it does look cute on you.

Not that he thinks you’re cute. Not really.

The others are packing up their gear and turning in for the night. Astarion will take first watch like he typically does, have a quick trance, and get up in the early morning hours for a hunt. Easy. Routine.

So what if he’s falling into a routine with these people. It makes things simpler.

He should check on you. Just to make sure you’re not ill. For his health more than yours. These days, a headache could mean a rapid onset of calamari face. He’s doing everyone a favor, honestly.

When he approaches your tent, his steps slow to a stop as his ears pick up noise from inside your tent. You aren’t asleep.

And by the sound of it – and it’s a sound Astarion knows well – you aren’t alone.

He huffs an irritated breath through his nose. Gods damn it. He really thought he had you in the bag. There’s a shard of something sharp lodged beneath his rib. Annoyance, probably. Disappointment that he’s back to square one. Bitterness that he lost another competition, even when he’s doing what he does best.

Astarion turns to walk away. Takes three steps. Stops. Turns his head back toward the sound.

Who is it?

Who are you with?

He has his suspicions, but might as well take a quick peek to verify. His steps as he approaches are catlike. Not that you’d notice anyway, preoccupied as you are. He won’t look much. Only enough to see who stole his prize.

His mark. Who stole his mark.

Astarion pauses at the far side of your closed tent flap and finds a gap in the cloth. He leans in, eyes keen in the dark, and his mouth goes dry when he sees your hips grinding against someone, the length of your body pressed tight to theirs while you move over them. A blanket covers you both, but it doesn’t hide the passion of your movement.

He jerks his head away, a ball of tension aching in his gut. Ridiculous. He should go kill something. He walks toward the woods.

And stops with a sigh.

Astarion hates himself for it, this burning curiosity to know exactly who you’re riding so enthusiastically. Steeling himself, he creeps back and peeks once more through the split in the fabric.

You’re sitting up, now, showing him the long line of your spine in the center of your bare back as your hips continue to work. Every puff of breath through your lips is desperate, occasionally lilting up in a breathless moan.

Astarion worries his lip between his teeth. The muscles beneath your skin ripple, your blood thrumming so close and smelling so much of you, sweetened with the scent of arousal. If you’d just lean a little one way or the other, he could see who’s working you so… so…

There’s a flash of heat in his core followed by a sparking current of electricity, setting everything alight. He’d been doing his best to ignore the steady swell of his cock, but ignoring it is no longer an option as he goes hard as stone, the length of him straining toward his hip bone. Subconsciously, he cants his hips into the empty air and finds absolutely no relief. He has to swallow back a soft moan of his own.

The rolling globes of your arse are shaped perfectly beneath your thin wool blanket. Sharp, rocking thrusts against your playmate, against whichever lucky wretch currently feels the sticky heat of you while he watches.

Astarion lets his hand drift to the front of his breeches and sucks his breath in through his teeth when his palm grazes firmly over the covered head of his cock.

You run a hand up your side and feel your own chest, maintaining your rhythm as you whimper.

Astarion’s fingers move to loosen his laces, lips parted as he begins to softly pant.

Your hand moves back down and you’re… yes, you’re putting your fingers between your legs, and you throw your head back with a gasp.

His fingers dip below his waistband and he curls in on himself with a huff as he takes himself in hand and begins to pump. Once, twice… ah, gods, that’s nice.

Though being under you would be even nicer.

Lucky sod. Who is it?

The blanket slips down over the curve of your arse, falling to one side and his breath catches as he realizes he’s about to get his answer.

Fabric falls aside and your incredible arse is grinding back and forth. You’re riding yourself to absolute delirium with…

A spare bedroll.

Astarion’s hand stutters to a stop and he doesn’t even breathe as realization hits him. You weren’t with someone else at all. The whole time, you’ve been furiously fucking yourself, grinding needily against your bedding for relief.

And somehow, some way, that makes him even harder. He mouths “oh, fuck” and goes back to stroking himself with renewed vigor.

You’re desperately aroused, no longer trying to quiet your whimpers as you work your hips in circles against the bedroll while you rub yourself at the same time, your shoulders flushed with need. Your body undulates in wave after wave and Astarion feels quite certain that if he were inside you right now, he’d have come already. He puts his free hand over his mouth, pressing his palm to his lips to keep quiet.

You make a frustrated noise and swing your leg off the bedroll, and for a brief alarming moment, Astarion thinks you’re about to give up, and there’s no way he could let that stand. For either of you.

But then you shove the bedroll away with a huff and flop onto your back without opening your eyes, which is good news for Astarion, since you’d almost certainly see the silhouette of him outside your tent if you were paying attention. Instead, you spread your legs wide and give him a glorious view as one hand returns to its place between your legs and is quickly joined by the other.

Astarion shudders out a breath, the sound thankfully masked by your own rapid pants as you stroke yourself with one hand and trace around your entrance with the other. When you push two fingers inside and begin to pump in and out, Astarion’s knees threaten to give out as he picks up his pace. The tide of pleasure in his core rises and threatens to crest.

Gods, gods, he isn’t even fucking you and you’re still going to make him come before you do.

Your pretty little moans are too much. Your furrowed brow, your flushed cheeks, the way your thighs twitch and your belly shivers with the pleasure you’re lavishing on yourself. What a beauty you are, what a treat, what a-

“-arion,” you whisper, so quietly that he nearly misses it.

“Hah,” he breathes, his pleasure shuddering right on the edge of its peak. His mind must’ve filled that in. There’s no way you said what he thought you said.

He presses his face to the split in the fabric and leans against the tentpole, jerking himself firmly as he watches you arch your back up off the ground, lifting your hips into the air again, again, again, until your hands slow.

“Oh, Astarion,” you whisper just before you slam back down to earth and groan out your release, your slick making your skin shine in the low light.

“Sh-”

Astarion slams his hand over his mouth and ducks to the side, sinking silently to the ground around the corner of your tent just before he creams himself, a pulse of spend striping the ground beneath him, followed by another, and another. His head hangs heavily before him as he catches his breath and dazedly tries to piece together what the fuck just happened.

He sits back, chest heaving and ears ringing.

Then whips his head to the side when he hears you stir inside the tent and tentatively say, “... Hello? Is someone there?”

Astarion holds his breath, which does not help with his current state of floaty lightheadedness.

Then you say, “... Astarion?”

And the sound of his name on your lips sends another ripple of pleasure through him as his cock pulses and drips one last time for good measure.

It takes a minute, but you eventually convince yourself you were hearing things and settle down to sleep, presumably in a more relaxed state than when you first retired. Astarion waits until your breathing slows before he sneaks away, silently tucking himself back into his clothes.

He holds his breath the entire time.

On the other side of camp inside the safety of his own tent, he releases it in a rush, running his unused hand through his curls as realization finally catches up to him.

“Oh, no,” he whispers.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #kitten writes

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riseatlantisss · 2 years ago

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Careful, he bites

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader around 900 words.

morning sex. in bed. with the most amazing vampire. that’s it that’s the plot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW : 18+, shameless smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, tiny bit of fang kink

I love him a completely normal amount

You open your eyes slowly, savouring the blissful, heavy fog of sleep that still weighs on your mind. The voice that greets you is one you’re sure you’ll never tire of.

“Good morning, my sweet”, Astarion whispers against your ear. The bed smells of night-blooming flowers and cold winter air, just like him. His body is a comforting spoon, the nice coolness of his powerful chest sends shivers down your spine.

Your eyelids are still heavy and with a smile, you settle back in and bury your head in your soft pillow, eager for just a few more hours of precious sleep before starting a new day in the underdark.

Astarion, of course, has other ideas. He exhales and you can feel the light puff of cold air against the back of your neck. Icy fingers skate down your bare arm, dragging the strap of your night gown with them. He dips his head and nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He toys with the hem of your night gown before slipping beneath it to caress the curve of your hip. You revel in his low groan of appreciation as he discovers you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“Gods, the things you do to me,” he growls, voice muffled slightly as he breathes your scent. “Let me take care of you.”

Wordlessly, you nod and he wastes no time. He gives you a sloppy, hungry kiss that is all tongues, teeth and fangs, and then slowly lowers himself. His fangs leave burning trails across your skin, and you love every bit of it.

You can feel his erection grow next to your thigh and you raise a hand forward to touch him but he grabs your wrist and stops the motion.

“No, darling,” he grins, “it is all about you today.”

“But –” your attempt to argue is cut short as Astarion disappears between your thighs, wraps his wet lips around your clit and starts sucking. You let out an unbelievably loud whimper of pleasure and he smirks against your body.

Pinning your thighs apart, he works his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other. You grind into his mouth shamelessly as his tongue continues working its magic. Without interruption, he slips first one finger, then two inside you, and pushes them up against your G-spot. You’re already starting to see stars as you feel his fangs settle in the soft mound of flesh above your clit. He applies just enough pressure for it to deliciously sting without ever hurting. Those tiny pinpricks combined with the sucking of your clit and the impossible rhythm of his fingers inside you made you cry out.

“Astarion – I’m– “ you try to articulate between two heavy breaths.

“I’m right there with you, my love,” he mutters and presses his fangs slightly deeper into your skin, as to urge you to stop fighting the wave of pleasure trying to make its way through your shivering body.

His tongue slips across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always sets you off, and suddenly you are coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his silver hair and moaning and moaning and moaning. He pushes his fangs deeper and deeper into your skin as he rides out your orgasm with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady. Your core spasms longer than a pulsing heart, each beat making you thrash helplessly on the bed as he pushes his fingers deep. He waits until you come down from your high before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean. The rest of the world begins to come back into focus but you do not care for it. You only have eyes for him.

"You are absolutely exquisite when you come," he chuckles in that ridiculously arrogant way he has.

He licks his lips as he rises, expression as lazy and smug as a contented cat. You haul him up and into your arms and kiss him hard. He wraps his strong arms around you protectively and takes a moment to listen to your breathing, still shallow from the love explosion. He finds infinite comfort in the repeated rise and fall of your chest. It proves to him that you are real, safe and here, right next to him.

Before you, Astarion had never known true bliss. Sex – even when it’s mindblowing – doesn’t fix the part of you that’s broken. Good sex soothes, but doesn’t cure, and Astarion, who’s been using sex as a valium substitute since he’s been free from his former Master’s control, knows it better than anyone. But with you, it’s not just sex. It’s safety. It’s intimacy. It’s respect. And it’s all he’s ever wanted.

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libbybee · 5 months ago

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IN THE HEAT OF YEARNING — SA

◜pairing: astarion ⨯ fem!reader ◜rating: MDNI 18+ ┊ wc: 6K ◜cw: mentions of astarion's past, dependence, masturbation [M], anorgasmia [M], piv, cock riding, creampie.

▹ summary. after cazador's defeat, astarion faces something he thought lost to time; his heat. the unfamiliar sensation of longing and freedom makes him torn between the instinct to dominate and the desire to surrender to you.

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

AO3 ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ PLAYLIST

‎

It had been weeks, perhaps months, since you helped him put an end to his master, Cazador. Even now, Astarion wasn’t sure how to feel or what to do.

The sensation of freedom hit him like a tornado tearing through his life, leaving him adrift and uncertain. Even the pronunciation of the words caught on his tongue, clinging to his throat whenever he tried to voice a trace of what he felt.

Declaring himself “unchained” sounded jarring to his ears, but, fortunately, there you were to help him adjust to these unfamiliar emotions that weighed on his shoulders. With everything that freedom entailed. Everything.

He hadn’t told you about this… personal problem of his. Truthfully, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, ashamed of what you might think or say if you found out.

After so many failed attempts, he stopped considering it altogether, only cursing himself for not telling you sooner.

Astarion knew it was foolish to feel so ashamed, especially considering the kind of person you were and how much better you treated him than the nightmares of his past—the loneliness that had surrounded him since he had begrudgingly accepted the curse of immortality. But, gods, just thinking about it made his throat tighten painfully and his hands tremble with cold sweat.

He tried his hardest to confess to you on those unique occasions you shared in private, when there was no one else around to overhear, but every time, he backed down.

Now, feeling this unbearable urge, he was determined not to say a word. Nothing in hell would make him… except his very self.

His lips whimpered pathetically, your name slipping through gasps muffled against the fabric of your panties. His eyelids squeezed shut, his other hand massaging the head of his cock tightly enough to hurt, desperately trying to mimic the sensation of your warm walls wrapped around him. Only to fail miserably.

His vampirism had awakened this cursed heat, a condition he loathed to the very core of his damned nature, yet he couldn’t prevent or fight against it. He had spent decades quelling his desires in solitude, without anyone to ease the craving when he needed it most.

The self-pity of it swelled his skin, feeling himself become so… damned “sweetly necessitous” and so lovesick for anyone who crossed his path in those times when he was still delivering prey to his master. But now he had you. And gods, you were going to be a problem. The faint traces of your arousal on the crushed fabric pressed to his nose were enough to drive him mad; you smelt so, so irresistibly good…

Fleeting memories of the first time he bit you flashed through his mind in a haze of desperation to reach his orgasm. The sweetness of your blood, like rich port wine on his tongue, was the finest thing he’d experienced in his entire existence.

He was quite clear just how thoroughly you’d unravelled his self-reliance. This inefficiency blazed brighter than ever in his mind each time he found himself dependent on you, and you weren’t there for him, just like now. Craving you in a way he hadn’t needed anyone in lifetimes.

The sheer sensation of having your naked body pressed up against his while he buried himself balls deep inside you. The feeling of the perfect, welcoming warmth from that exquisite pussy of yours, gripping him as if he were the most vital thing in your life… He’d give anything to feel you like that right now, having you to ease his agonising heat until his pain and loneliness were fully sated. But these thoughts only sent his urgency skyrocketing higher than ever.

The side of your shared bed still held your intoxicating scent. Pressing your panties to his sharp nose reminded him of how tightly your walls would clench around him every time he thrust in and out of your perfect cunt as he fucked it exactly how he knew to so well. An intense desperation took hold of him, slamming his clenched fist into his quivering pelvis to fuck his hand with a ferocity that echoed how he would fuck you again if you were here. By now, thick beads of his precum trickled from his swollen tip, sliding down his pale, agile fingers.

His silky white curls clung to his sweat-dampened forehead and nape, his teeth gritting in nothing but frustration at his inability to reach that elusive release. Each time he came close, the peak seemed to slip away, taunting him from just out of reach. But he couldn’t fully blame himself, because deep down, he knew he didn’t want to cum like this.

It wasn’t just the release he craved; it was you. Without you here, everything felt hollow; his touch was a pitiful substitute for the real thing. He wanted nothing more than to cum inside you, to hear the sweet, melodic sounds of your moans and gasps as his warm semen filled you, seeping out around the edges of his cock as he stayed buried deep within. He longed to watch you bask after your climax, knowing you were utterly his in that moment, both bound in bliss.

The fantasy gripped him, vivid and fierce—an impossible hope to leave something lasting within you, to fill you until he could almost imagine creating life together, even though he knew his cursed being would never allow such a thing. Yet the thought alone, however unattainable, only drove his need further, intensifying his urge to fuck you completely, as if every part of him belonged to you, even in ways that fate had denied him.

He tried once more to focus, though his body trembled atop the sheets with sheer need. He closed his eyes and fantasised about your pussy all reddened and swollen for him, glistening in your rich juices and so deliciously wet that you’d be dampening the sheets beneath you.

A deep flush spread from his cheeks to the very tips of his sensitive ears as he realised just how utterly charmed he was by you and how his mind overflowed with visions of you and only you. He could see it all so vividly: your gorgeous, tempting pussy, the soft contours of your breasts that fit his hands as though crafted just for him and his carnal lust, your lips swollen from his endless kisses, and your eyes glazed, pupils blown wide with pleasure.

Every detail of you was etched into his mind—an addicting vision he couldn't escape. You were the star of every lustful scene that played out in his imagination, the embodiment of his most desperate fantasies.

Astarion could almost feel the anxious pulse of your clit, just begging for his mouth and tongue. The thought of his lips grazing that sensitive bundle, tormenting it to the point of agony, filled his mind, and he could hardly help but drool. He could practically taste you, the luscious, toxicant sweetness of your arousal filling him as he’d lavish every inch of your cunt with his mouth, sucking and licking with ravenous need until you were drenched.

He let out a low, frustrated growl, swirling his closed fist just around his incarnate tip in a futile attempt to force his climax. But his mind betrayed him, flooding with vivid images of your sweaty body and the insatiable pussy he yearned so badly. However, he was pretty clear: nothing could replace you. Not his hand, not the fantasies that had become a poor substitute; nothing could come close to the reality he wanted.

In his mind, he saw you beneath him, legs spread-eagled, your lips calling his name in whispered moans that grew louder with each thrust. He could nearly feel your breath against his ear, filling him with the sweet sound of your whimpers, each one more desperate than the last. His hand felt pitifully inadequate compared to being buried deep inside you, his body pressed down against yours as he consumed every last piece of you.

He was completely lost, so absorbed that he didn't even hear the soft creak of the door or the faint shuffle of your footsteps.

In the quiet shadows of your bedroom, he trembled with the wrenching pain, torn between hunger and exasperation. His voice whispered out, barely audible, “My love… I need you.”

Astarion’s breathing came in ragged gasps as he chased a release that refused to reach him. Tightening his hand to increase his movement speed, he became almost frantic, as though sheer desperation could fill the emptiness of not having you. His head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut as he let out a strangled moan against your panties, your lovely name slipping from his lips like a mantra.

You’d woken in the night, drowsily reaching for him only to find the other side of the bed empty, letting your hand land on cool sheets instead of his skin. Concerned and bleary-eyed, you went looking for him, thinking that perhaps a nightmare had drawn him away.

But nothing could have prepared you for the sight before you.

In the dim light spilling from the cracked curtains of a window, his silhouette trembled, his hips bucking desperately into his hand as if he couldn’t stand another second of the ache inside him. His cheeks were flushed with a feverish red, and his lips parted to release soft, breathless whimpers. His grip on himself was almost punishing, fingers digging into his flesh as he stroked with an almost frenzied pace, trying to force himself to the relief he sought but clearly struggling.

You inched closer, entranced by the sight of his body arching and tensing, brow knit in frustration as he let out quiet, ragged curses under his breath. His voice, thick with desperation, cracked as he whispered your name as if the mere thought of you was both a balm and a torment. He was so lost, so utterly engrossed in his aching need, that he didn’t notice your presence.

Unable to resist, you let out a quiet voice calling his name while opening the door, just loud enough to break through his veil.

He snapped open his eyes; his red irises gleamed in the darkness as he finally became aware he wasn’t alone. Astarion froze, lips parting in shock as his gaze met yours, the flush in his cheeks deepening as he felt instantly embarrassed with your underwear under his nose. The rich fabric of his Victorian shirt clung to his chest, slightly askew from his restless movements.

“I was… I wasn’t expecting you…” He managed to speak with a low, rough voice, as if pulled straight from the depths of his body. He relaxed slightly in an attempt to regain his composure, though his cock gave a subtle, instinctual thump against his stomach as he failed to suppress his arousal. Then he swallowed hard, the exposed skin at his throat glistening in the dim light from his sweat, his expression a blur of yearning and bashfulness.

You took another step closer to your old bed. The intensity of his state made your breath quicken as you took in every detail of his parted lips, the flush trailing to his ears, the slight tremor in his fingers as he tried to maintain them steady…

“Come here…” He reached out, inviting you. His eyes gleamed with want, and, at that moment, he felt himself wholly yours to possess and do whatever you wanted, but you didn't know just yet.

“Couldn’t sleep, Astarion?” You asked with both curiosity and… somewhat understanding.

Astarion let out a sigh while a soft smile tugged at his lips. “It seems I have… trouble finding satisfaction without you, my dear.” He lowered the fabric of your underwear from his face to leave it on the nightstand, his eyes never leaving yours, although his vulnerable yet unabashedly captivated emotions.

His delicate fabric slightly loosened at the collar and sleeves, a bit untied, his hair tousled… This image of him awakened something inside you, drawing you deeper into his charming and cuddly spell.

You reached for his hand, marvelling at how adorable he looked at this moment. With a serene smile, you settled beside him on the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight as you sat close enough to feel his body almost touching yours.

Astarion let out a long, shaky breath, his body finally relaxing as he leaned into you, his forehead coming to rest on your shoulder. He was warm, and you could feel the faint tremor in his body as if something had unravelled his entire being.

Then he let out a low, breathless giggle; the sound tinged with relief and a hint of humour. “You’re toying with me…” He murmured softly against your skin before placing a kiss on it with a touch of playful reproach. “Leaving me here all night… suffering by myself.” His words were light, but you could feel the weight behind them, the hollowness he rarely showed.

As his head rested heavily against your shoulder, Astarion’s fingers tangled in your hair, gently gripping it as if securing himself to you. His touch was both eager and tender as he instinctively snuggled closer to encircle your waist, seeking solace in your embrace. It was a stark contrast to that usually composed and confident vampire you knew, making him appear almost childlike as if he were looking for comfort after a nightmare.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer against you. The way he nestled into you made your soul melt in affection, but a flicker of concern crept into your mind as you wondered what had haunted him in the quiet solitude of the night. His sigh was soft, barely audible, and his grip on your hair tightened as if he feared losing you.

“What’s wrong, Astarion?” You asked softly while caressing his arm gently. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

He furrowed his brow slightly, the weakness in his demeanour becoming more pronounced. “I suppose… I thought I could manage. But it seems I could not.”

Before continuing, he took a deep breath to steel himself. “There’s something I haven’t told you… something I’ve been trying to suppress.” As he spoke, his eyes peered at your face, a mixture of uncertainty and yearning reflected in their blackness. The playful humour that often danced in his gaze was gone, replaced by a rawness that tugged at your heartstrings.

You searched his eyes to urge him to continue while your thoughts were already wondering what it could be. “What is it?”

Astarion swallowed hard, his brow furrowing as he wrestled with his emotions. “I… I’m in my heat…” He finally confessed. “After everything that happened with Cazador, I thought I could control it and push it away. But it’s relentless. This… need; it’s too much, and I’ve been fighting it alone for so long.”

You instinctively pulled him closer, the warmth of your body against his providing a gentle anchor in the storm of his turmoil. Feeling a surge of empathy, you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek, hoping to erase any sense of his silly shame. “Astarion… You are not alone any more. I’m here… with you.”

He leaned into your touch, a faint shudder passing through him as he let out a soft sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly for your words. “I didn’t want to burden you with this, darling…”

“You could never be a burden to me, silly.”

A liberating glint passed through his eyes before they narrowed slightly, his expression gentling as he leaned his cheek into the warmth of your hand. “So tell me, my darling… what are you going to do with me now?” He asked sweetly, smiling with some curiosity, as though he were either coaxing you forward… or daring you to finish what he’d started.

You held his gaze for a few seconds longer before letting your eyes drop to his hard, aching length.

You slowly pull out of his embrace to rise from the bed, then with unhurried motions, you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of your pyjama trousers and your panties, sliding them down your legs. The fabric fell to the floor, quickly joined by your bra, leaving you bare before him. The chilly winter air grazed your skin, causing a shiver to dance along your back and harden your nipples instantly.

“I’m going to take care of you…” You saw how his eyes roamed over every inch of you with his usual intense, hungry gaze, caressing your body as though it were a precious treasure he could finally hold.

Astarion’s gaze returned to yours with a warm, wide smile, brimming with adoration and desire. “You’re…breathtaking…” He murmured, almost as though speaking the words out loud might shatter the moment.

Your heart swelled at the sight of him, so open, so vulnerable, and so utterly yours. You settled back onto the bed beside him, leaning close as you placed a soft, reassuring kiss against his cheek. Letting your hand drift from his thigh to his lap to wrap your fingers around his cock, feeling the hardness of it, respond immediately to your gentle touch by throbbing excitedly. You began to slowly stroke him, keeping a slow yet steady rhythm.

He moaned softly, his head fell back, and his eyes closed while a subtle shudder ran through him. His fingers instinctively clung to your arm; the look of pure need etched from his face only spurred you on. Your strokes grow firmer as each pass of your hand drew a new, delicious sound from his delicate lips. During that, you leaned closer to let your warm breath graze his neck before you started to spread soft kisses along it.

His usual composure had crumbled, giving way to a raw, unrestrained need—a desperation born of decades of unsatisfied feelings and the maddening ache of his heat. He tried so hard to find satisfaction, but nothing had ever been enough since he met you. Only you could soothe this torment and bring him the relief he required.

You pulled back slightly from his neck, meeting his eyes as you paused your attentions to gently nudge him onto the bed. He didn’t resist at all, allowing you to do whatever you wanted with him and looking at you with sparkling impatience across his darkened pupils.

You ran your hands along his thighs one more time, fingertips tracing over every taut line and curve, savouring the feel of his skin. As you settled on the mattress to straddle his hips, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his stomach, your lips grazing over the fabric stretched over his torso. Your hands travelled up, resting on his chest, where you could feel his muscles tense beneath his clothing. With a teasing smile, you left a gentle trail of kisses along his uncovered chest, up to his collarbone, and finally brushing your lips along his jaw.

His hands locked to your thighs, his breaths warm as he relaxed in your presence. He allowed himself to be vulnerable before you, and it was unlike anything you had seen in him before. He looked as though he might beg at any moment, desperate and undone. His fingers trembled slightly as he held you tighter, sliding his hands up to grip your hips.

“Is this what you want?” You asked, although you already knew the answer well, just to savour this moment, having him so needy for you.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, his answer slipping out almost without thought. “Yes.” His voice was harsh, barely holding together as he looked up at you in admiration like he could hardly believe he was so close to the release that he’d been yearning for.

Astarion moved his hands from your hips to your waist, guiding you down as he suppressed a desperate groan, his head tipping back into your pillow, still infused with your intoxicating scent. “My darling…” He purred, calling out to you. “I need you, please…” The words spilt from him with urgency, though his seductive edge persevered. His hands gripped your hips again, uncertain where to grab, only knowing he wanted every part of you. “Pretty please…”

At the same time, your other hand slipped lower, cradling his sac and massaging softly in rhythm with each stroke. His sighs came faster, a soft groan escaping him as your fingers trailed along his sensitive skin.

The transformation in him was almost endearing, watching his pride melt in the face of his heat. You couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks warming as he let slip those velvety, magical words.

Reaching down, you let your fingers brush over the base of his cock, feeling the rigid heat of his arousal. You spit into your palm and took his hardened cock to slick him out, stroking him slowly up and down. You weren’t entirely wet yet, and you wanted this moment to be as perfect as possible for him.

You moved your focus to his swollen, pulsing glans now, slick with precum that had trickled down his length. You continued stroking with both hands now, smoothing the warm fluid mixed with your saliva to make sure he was well lubricated. Finally, positioning yourself, you let the head of his cock rub your clit and your entrance.

You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation until you heard him release a strangled moan, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as if holding you could somehow ease his ache. Reopening your eyes, you saw his flushed cheeks and closed eyelids, and you felt captured by his vulnerability. Your heart pounded against your chest at seeing him so… exposed to you.

Although you were keenly aware of his need and, in a way, his impatience to bury himself inside you, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to draw out this special moment as long as possible.

Finally, you let the head of his cock kiss your entrance, beginning to lower your hips as you felt the delicious stretch of your slit as it let him through and of your interior accommodating him. You felt yourself tighten instinctively around his thick length, your walls gripping him as he slid deeper within.

Once he was fully seated within you until his tip was pushing against your cervix, you began to rise and fall slowly. Rolling your hips slightly forward and back, you felt the rigidity in his cock and every vein deliciously caressing your walls. His grip tightened as he released sweet, breathy sighs with each massage you gave his cock with your cavity, his eyes fixed on you, utterly enraptured as he felt himself dissolve beneath you.

“Just you…” His voice trembled with a tone you haven't heard from him. “I’ve needed this… needed you… for so long. I tried to resist… gods, I tried… but nothing, nothing else could…” His words trailed off in an involuntary moan as his pelvis lifted instinctively to feel every inch of your insides squeeze his painfully swollen cock.

A satisfied moan escaped your lips as you watched him giving in to pleasure, his expression lost in bliss. Spurred by his urge, you began to move with more eagerness, riding him harder and faster, your pelvis colliding with his in a wild rhythm. Every thrust sent jolts of pleasure through you both as your hips moved in perfect sync.

Bracing your hands on his chest, you leaned down to capture his lips, and he responded with a yearning whimper, returning the kiss with impatience. “I’ve never seen you like this, Astarion.” You murmured against his lips, admiring the flush across his cheeks. “It’s… adorable.”

He let out a soft, breathless laugh, though his voice was thick with longing. “I’m yours, my love…” He confessed in a low tone, holding your gaze with an unusual intensity, his eyes shining. “With you… I can’t help but lose myself…”

His hands slid up to grip your waist, attempting to guide at least your intensity and reclaim a hint of control, but you took his hands in yours. Sliding them over your torso to your breasts, letting him grab them and feel the softness of them. "Love, let me…” He raised his hips once more to penetrate you deeper. His need to bury himself inside you almost agonisingly, each motion making his tip hit your sensitive G-spot and coax gasps from your lips as he struck it with raw precision, just as your cervix.

You threw your head back, a strangled whimper escaping as the blend of pleasure and faint pain sent shocks through your womb.

“Astarion…” You called after recovering your breath just enough to let your lips brush his ear. One hand tangled into his silky hair while the other traced his chest, your fingers skimming over the fabric of his shirt. “Let me… I want to make you feel good, my love…" You whispered, letting your breath ghost over the sensitive skin of his neck, feeling him shiver beneath you because of how responsive he was to your closeness.

Astarion’s throat caught at the sensation of your warm lips on his neck from your sudden smooch, his fingers tightening around your breasts. A sly smile played on his lips, though his usual sharp wit softened because of his heat.

“Oh, my darling…” He rasped with his tone both a plea and a command as his fingers slid down to your hips, anchoring you closer. “You already do make me feel good… so exquisitely good.” His lips found the spot behind your ear to press a kiss against it. Descending to the curve of your jaw, and then lower, tracing a path full of delicate, heated kisses down to your neck.

Then he pulled you, rolling you onto the mattress in a sudden but gentle motion. His body hovered over yours as he took a moment to drink in the sight of you beneath him. “But I think it’s time I return the favour.” His voice dipped into a low growl, his thumb smoothing against your cheek as he cradled it. “Let’s see just how well I can repay you, love…” He whispered before diving to your lips with a ferocity that left no doubt of his intentions.

Every single touch and lingering kiss was a deliberate act of his devotion, focusing entirely on bringing you to the same heights of pleasure he so desperately craved.

Your lips crashed against his with a passion that mirrored his, a burning hunger in every kiss. You tangled your fingers into his silken, white hair to hold him close, refusing to let an inch of space between you. Your other hand gripped the fabric of his shirt in his waist, tugging it firmly, wanting nothing more than to feel his skin against yours.

Before drawing you into his embrace, he positioned his cock at your entrance to enter back inside you, joining his hips firmly against yours with a delicious thrust that made your clit kiss his bare pelvis. A guttural groan escaped his mouth as he responded eagerly to your touch, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. Each of his movements quickened, his hips surging forward with growing intensity, each thrust driving you both toward a shared frenzy. Impulsively, he broke the kiss to trail his lips along your neck, leaving a searing path of devouring kisses and grazing your skin with his fangs, sending a subtle shiver through you.

“Gods, you're… intoxicating.” He whimpered roughly between kisses. His hands slid to your hips, gripping you rigidly to guide your body in time with his as he fucked you. His lips stayed on your neck, savouring every moan you gave him, lost in the sensation of your bodies moving together with an urgency that none of you could contain.

Astarion’s hand grabbed firmly at your nape, his fingers threading through your hair as he held your head in place against his shoulder. Positioned snugly between your legs, his thighs lifted yours, angling you so that every inch of his cock entered your pussy, leaving no space unfilled.

He bobbed his hips forward with a ferocious, exhausting pace that drove him impossibly deeper into your cunt, his mouth returning in trailing hot kisses all over your skin. His grip on your nape tightened with each surge of his pelvis against yours, anchoring himself in the intensity of it, feeling how your walls massaged and vibrated around his cock. His other hand gripped your waist, drawing you closer to him as if he wanted to merge your bodies completely.

The rhythm had become urgent and desperate, his mouth leaving feverish kisses along your neck and shoulder as his pace grew erratic, driven by the overwhelming, raw desire consuming him. His hand tightened around your waist, pulling you more tightly as his thrusts grew harsher.

The fire in your body was exactly like his, a blazing need that surged with every stroke. Your hand slipped down to your swollen clit, fingers stroking it in synchrony with his pleasurable thrusts. Your actions only seemed to drive him further; a primal growl escaped his lips as his hips snapped forward with a force that stole your respiration.

“Look at you… so eager for more…” Astarion purred, his tone rasping and dripping with lust. His crimson eyes roamed down your body, pausing at the place where your fingers moved against yourself. He observed entranced how your fingers stroked your entire clitoris, slick and needy while meeting each of his thrusts. The sight seemed to inflame him, his pupils dilating as he devoured the scene before him. A wicked grin curled on his lips. “You’re utterly delicious… I can hardly resist the urge to devour you whole.”

His voice was thick with desire, and how his crimson eyes darkened further made your heart race. You could see the pure hunger burning within him, igniting an answering fire deep in your lower belly. As you continued to stimulate your clit, the tension grew unbearable, stretched so taut that one more push, one more touch, was all it would take to send you both over the edge.

He dipped his head, his breath hot against your skin. “I need to hear every delicious sound you make, every gasp and moan.” He murmured, the rasp in his voice thickening with each thrust.

As if in response, you moaned louder, the heat pooling between your legs intensifying as you clung to him. The urgency in his movements grew, his thrusts becoming a frantic tempo, pounding into you with a force that sent waves of ecstasy crashing inside your entire pussy. You could feel him nearing his peak, the way his cock hardened impossibly harder inside you, leaving copious amounts of precum between your walls. The quickening pace of his breath and the tightening grip on your hips only made it more evident.

“My love…” He purred, his voice a seductive growl that resonated deep within your pussy. “I want to feel you cum around me…”

“Please…” You pleaded in a whisper, not fully sure of what you were pleading.

Astarion surged forward, claiming you with a fervour that stole the breath from your lungs. Every thrust felt overwhelming, as though he were trying to mark you as his own, to leave a lasting imprint on your body and soul. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, a primal dance that sent shockwaves through you both, pushing you closer to the precipice of bliss.

As the words sunk in, you felt your walls tighten further around his cock. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and the delicious pressure built higher and higher, threatening to spill over.

“Together…” You gasped, feeling the edge draw nearer. “I—” His lips crashed against yours in a fierce kiss, drowning out your words as his tongue rapidly tangled with yours. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you entwined in this frenzied embrace. And then, as if replying to your unspoken plea, the dam broke.

Your climax hit you like a storm, pulsing through your core and leaving you spent as your arms tightened around him and your hips moved to fuck his cock as well. Astarion let out a shuddering moan that broke the kiss, his grip almost bruising you as he reached his own release, his body trembling and spasming as yours with the intensity of it. You felt his warm cum exploding inside you, each release sending a delicious sensation up your womb and cervix, prolonging the endless pleasure crashing through you. His hands held you against him as you both rode out ecstasy, lost in the shared, heady sensation of being completely intertwined as he kept buried inside you.

You clung to him, surrendering to the exquisite moment, feeling utterly consumed by the heat and the connection that bound you together. The aftermath left you gasping for air with your heart racing, both of you lost in the afterglow of passion.

As the lingering waves of your climax subsided after a while in each other's arms, you gazed at Astarion, a playful smile tugging at your lips. His tousled hair fell charmingly over his forehead, and a layer of sweat glistened on his skin, making him look beautiful and irresistibly enchanting.

“You know…” You started softly with a glimmer in your eyes, “You look absolutely adorable like this, all consumed by your heat.” Your heart fluttered as you watched his brows knit together in playful disbelief.

“Adorable?” One of his eyebrows went up. “I assure you, my dear, that’s the last thing on my mind right now.”

“Oh, come on!” You replied, laughter bubbling up like the sweetest melody for his ears. “Just look at you! You’ve never looked more charming—practically irresistible!”

He warmly chuckled, a rich sound that filled the air with joy. “My dear, I was merely indulging in what is quite natural for me. Thank you.”

You feigned a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over your heart in mock shock. “Darling! Just admit it! What an honour it is to see you in such a cute light! Who knew a fierce vampire could also be a cuddly little beast?”

Astarion rolled his eyes, but the smile that tugged at his lips was an undeniable admission of his enjoyment. “Cuddly? Now you’re pushing it, sweetie.”

“Maybe.” You said, leaning closer to him as your eyes sparkled while you batted your eyelashes playfully. “But honestly, there was something so sweet about you right now. You were so lost in the moment, like watching a passionate artist at work.”

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms with an exaggerated huff, his attempt to maintain composure failing delightfully. “I suppose I must allow you this little delusion, but do not mistake my passion for cuteness.”

“Whatever you say, my fierce little vampire.” You joked, inching even closer. “But I stand by my word. You’re absolutely adorable.”

With a soft, fluttering laugh, you reached up to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. The moment felt electric, charged with love and affection. Astarion’s lips curled against yours before reciprocating your kiss, and for a fleeting second, the heat of passion intertwined with the sweetness of the moment, turning the surrounding air into something truly magical.

As you pulled back, you found him looking at you, a soft smile gracing his features that melted your heart. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” He murmured in a playful voice mixed with exasperation and fondness.

“Only for you.” You replied, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “And I think you love it. A reason more to the list for being with me!”

“Don’t say it too loud.” He replied, the playful glint in his eyes betraying his bravado.

You laughed, his presence enveloping you as you revelled in the playful banter, your hearts intertwining in the sweetest ways. At that moment, every worry faded, leaving only the bliss of shared affection, laughter, and the delightful intimacy of you two.

‎

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neckromantics · 1 year ago

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More creepy and unsettling, creature Astarion please.

I beg of thee. Vampires are meant to be an uncanny valley type of thing. An undead creature of the night that passes itself as just the right amount of living and mortal for you to let your guard down. I need more examples of his vampiric nature showing once he's grown comfortable enough, and I need it now.

An Astarion who is so silent in his movements that you often got jump scared by it in the earlier stages of your relationship.

You'd be lounging around on the sofa. Reading a book, lost in thought, all serene and cozy beneath a nice knitted blanket-- just having an all around nice, relaxing time when you see movement out of the corner of your eye. You glance up for just a moment, to the space before you that was previously unoccupied, and his entire face is suddenly hovering right in front of you.

Just waiting. Not moving. Pupils blown so huge that there's barely any color left to his eyes. Fangs are peeking out over the bruise-purple skin of his bottom lip. He's pallid. White as a corpse. Definitely in need of a good feeding.

His intentions were entirely innocent. He really only meant to ask you a question, and here you are being all dramatic and jumping several feet into the air and throwing your book off to the side in a panic. Thankfully, you're able to catch yourself before you full on shriek in his face.

(You love him and his ghoulishly handsome face, you really and truly do, but you sincerely thought for a moment that he was a spectre come to take you to the afterlife.)

Astarion, who routinely forgets to breathe. Yanno, like it's nothing.

You're well aware of the fact that vampires don't need to breathe. It's more of a force of habit than anything else, really-- something left over from when he was still mortal, he says.

Although, during bouts of intense emotion, or some sort of uh, stimulation, the focus on something so trivial gets put on the backburner for a bit.

The two of you will be sharing a particularly passionate kiss (or worse) when you feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest stop short. It's like all of the air has gotten caught in his lungs, and he ends up making these creaky grudge-like sounds in place of his usual low moaning. A clicking in the back of his throat in place of a sigh. If you play your cards just right, there might even be a rattling from deep within his chest that almost sounds like a purr.

When he finally does breathe, usually due to a well executed nip to his bottom lip, or the gentle brush of your fingers against one of his ears as you play with his hair, it comes out as an animalistic hiss. A sharp, choking gasp that sends goosebumps down the length of your arms.

How you catch him watching you sleep.

How you'll wake up in the pitch black of your bedroom in a cold sweat. Your hair is stood on end, a fearful shudder threatening to rattle your frame. A spike in your pulse that has your sleep addled brain doing somersaults in your skull. All of your instinctual alarm bells go off at once, telling you that something must be terribly wrong. Something must be watching you.

You try to blink away the bleariness-- try to shake off the fog of sleep for long enough to get your bearings, and catch a glint in the dark so ominous that for a moment you're scared stock still.

Something is watching you. Someone, rather.

Astarion's eyes gleam back at you in the dark like a wild animal's might. A bobcat, maybe, like the ones you'd often find stalking pray outside the tree line of camp all those nights ago. Pupils that glow a filmy, holographic orange despite there being no light to reflect off of them.

You don't notice until after you've taken a second to calm yourself that he's hovering over you. The bed just barely dips from his weight as he supports himself, and you'd be baffled by it all if you had any braincells left.

"Go back to sleep, darling." His voice is so soft, even over the pounding against your eardrums. Soothing. Tranquilizing. And though your eyes do begin to feel heavy, you're not exactly in the mood for rest anymore.

Especially not when he's pressing cold, feather-light kisses down the length of your throat not a moment later.

Please, I beg. Give me more.

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 tav #astarion headcanons #astarion fluff #kinda?#astarion smut #? also kinda?

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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago

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Book

Summary: Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Breeding kink. P in V. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Creampie. Overestimulation. Cumplay.

Word count: 1.7k

It wasn't unusual for you to find yourself on your back, knees bent and legs spread apart as Astarion's hand worked diligently in between them.

“You know… I came across this book in Rivington."

Two fingers rubbed slow yet measured circles between your slick folds. His dexterity truly shined through in these moments, as he lured you closer and closer to the edge of your sanity.

“A book?”

“A most interesting book.”

His lips pressed lingering kisses across the exposed side of your neck, and you struggled to keep your eyes fixed on his hand.

He adored it when you watched him deliver unprecedented pleasure, and the sight was positively maddening with your wetness coating both his fingers as lewd sounds echoed in your ears.

The cluster of pillows strategically placed behind you aided you to take in the view more clearly, and you couldn't help but moan softly.

Suddenly, you jolted at the feeling of one fang raking across your sensitive skin. “What of it?”

“Do you really want to know, darling?”

His purring voice alone could edge you so effectively that you had to grip the bedsheets under you, balling your fists and silently praying to the gods above to help you stay grounded.

“Yes…” you moaned, eyes nearly fluttering shut.

Astarion quickly bfound your pulse point and planted an open-mouthed kiss.

Just bite me…

That would surely be your undoing, but he merely chuckled and you felt him smile.

“It spoke of dhampirs - half-vampires.”

Gods…

The implication that dangled from his silky words wasn't particularly subtle and you found yourself clenching around nothing.

“It is not an easy feat, but with the right amount of dedication and… perseverance,” he punctuated each word with a roll of his fingers, drawing soft whimpers from you. “... I'm quite certain we can explore it.”

You clenched again, and your legs faltered, almost dropping from the chill that ran down your spine.

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “No, no, my sweet. Keep your focus and your legs up high for me.”

Astarion thrived on your pleasure and basked in your praises.

He was good.

He knew he was good.

And he wanted you to show him.

Stroking his ego was a sure way to get his complete devotion.

The throbbing between your legs intensified tenfold and you could see it swollen and peeking through your folds as he dragged his drenched fingers all the way up to your lower abdomen.

“What do you say?” He purred in your ear, massaging you tenderly.

Another agonising clench.

You parted your lips in search of a reply, but the words died in your mouth at the sight of his fingers spreading your wetness across your skin.

“Well? Will you let me breed you?”

His crude words had you gripping the fabric in your hands tighter, and you wondered how much longer until it finally tore.

“Astarion…”

Slowly but surely, you felt something prickling at the skin on the back of your hand.

It was slightly cool and you needn't need to look to know his cock was leaking precum.

Just for you.

The liquid began dribbling down your skin as he began pressing soft kisses along your jawline.

Silently, he grabbed your hand until your fingers instinctively wrapped around his hardening cock.

And then he hissed.

“Tighter,” he urged, placing his hand atop yours to squeeze down hard. “You're tighter than this…” he finished with a sigh.

This time, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as you rolled your hips in desperation.

He fucked your hand slowly, occasionally bringing your thumb to swipe across his tip, earning delicious and urgent moans from him.

Your breathing quickened and you felt the mattress shift under you as he carefully slid his cock from your grip, positioning himself on top of you.

“Eyes on me.”

You took a deep and shaky breath and your gaze dropped to witness an elegant finger disappear inside you.

A swift gasp escaped your throat and you couldn't stop yourself from clenching around him.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in an approving smile. “So eager…”

You were mesmerised by how he so easily slid a second one, the wet sounds nearly doing it for you.

He shifted until his cool lips were on yours, nipping at the lower one with the razor-like fang, easily drawing blood and gently suckling on the bruised flesh.

Your back arched when he removed both fingers from you before pressing his cock at your entrance.

By this point, you were too soaked to offer any resistance as he slowly sank into you.

You broke the kiss first, greedily looking in between your bodies just so you could watch his cock slide in and out, bulging veins glistening with your wetness.

“Enjoying the view, darling?”

You bit down on your lip, tasting your own blood as you nodded through half-hooded eyes.

Countless sweet rolls of his hips pushed you further and further along the inevitable precipice, and the familiar coiling and throbbing had your mouth drop open, unable to rein in your spilling whimpers.

He dipped his head to glide his tongue across your lower lip, both his arms caging you in and allowing him to angle his hips so he could sink fully into you.

You were visibly pulsing, your folds parted slightly, and his gaze soon followed yours.

A guttural grunt rumbled in his throat. “Let go, darling… and let me feel you tightening around me.”

You gripped his arms, bracing yourself for the impending wave of overwhelming bliss that took over your entire body, and through gasps and pants and moans, you plunged down the spiral of bliss.

A distant groan from Astarion was heard as your vision blurred, powerful contractions rippling through your lower half.

He was mumbling something, but you couldn't make out a single word, far too lost in your high to focus on anything else.

You felt his lips on your neck and you threw your head back, offering it fully to him.

As the waves of your contractions finally subsided, you came back to your senses, trying hard to even out your laboured breathing.

He was still buried deep inside you.

Had he come with you?

The answer came when his fangs began prodding the skin along your pulse point, as if barely containing himself.

He had yet to reach his peak.

“Can you give me another one?”

Your eyes widened and you struggled to form coherent words. “I… I don't… know.”

He brought one hand to grip your knee, pushing your leg against your torso, and spreading you further apart for him.

The pace he had set was contained and slow, a constant reminder that he yearned for his own release.

His tongue darted out to swipe across your flushed skin, and you turned your head, granting him easier access.

“Use your words.”

You swallowed, gasping from how oversensitive you suddenly felt from the constant friction in between your legs.

“Please…” you could only bring yourself to plead.

His fangs taunted the fragile barrier of your skin, but not with enough pressure to draw blood.

“Use. Your. Words.” He rasped impatiently, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips.

You brought your hands to his chest, feeling the taut muscles tense under your touch.

“Bite me…”

The sharp sting had you grip him hard, his hardened nipples digging into the palms of your hands.

As soon as he got to control the flow of your blood, he quickly matched the rolls of his hips with each mouthful of warm liquid he downed.

Your senses were full of him.

Filled with him.

Dragging on hand to settle on his throat, you moaned as you felt him under your palm, eagerly swallowing your blood.

It didn't take long before his skin began to heat up against yours, and you could almost swear you felt his cock hardening even more inside you.

His pace didn't falter. If anything, he was simply indulging in the newfound vigour that only your blood coursing through his body could provide.

Wanting to further tease him, you circled his nipple with the pad of your thumb, earning an approving grunt.

The crescendo of pleasure began to throb deep within you with each passing moment, and you felt him take one of your hands in his, dragging it down to settle where his body connected with yours.

He slid out just enough for your fingers to trace along the bulging and pulsing veins that slithered around his cock.

He quickly withdrew from your neck with a low, rumbling groan, his handsome face hovering yours, droplets of blood dripping from his lips onto yours, which you quickly swiped clean with your tongue, tasting the metallic aftertaste.

You kept teasing his nipple, feeding your own pleasure from how responsive he was.

Astarion was about to come undone, and you realised that having your blood dripping down his chin and neck, was enough to catapult you steadily yet rapidly into the heights of your own pleasure.

Your eyes watched his face twist beautifully as he reached his peak, mouth dropping agape in a raging growl that made you shudder.

Under the touch of your fingers, you felt the underside of his cock spasm rhythmically as he emptied himself inside you.

It was too much.

You felt some of his cum overflowing and staining your fingers, and you immediately dragged them to the pulsing swell between your folds, coating it in the warm liquid and gasping as the violent wave of bliss had you contracting around him.

Astarion buried his face in the crook of your neck as he cursed and whimpered and pleaded for you to have mercy on him.

You truly wished you could grant him such relief, but you were far too gone to be of any comfort as both of you rode out your peak.

With a final grunt from him and a moan from you, he slumped against you, cock still buried deep.

You pressed a hand to the back of his head, slipping your fingers along his damp and soft curls, cradling him in your embrace.

“Just so we're clear,” you began in between pants. “What are the chances of this actually happening?”

He didn't reply right away, instead pressing his lips to the bite marks on your neck, cleaning up the mess.

“Not that high, I reckon?” You managed to chuckle, raking your fingers along his scalp.

“Not high at all.”

Just as you had suspected.

“But we're so used to turning the impossible into possible, that I can't see why this should be any different.”

Oh.

A/N: I'm... sorry.... hahaha

Masterlist

#astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader

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frantic-fiction · 1 year ago

Text

Lose Yourself 18+

Pic: @casualya (side note....hot 🥵)

Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x f!Tav

Summary: During a feeding Astarion gets worked up and a bit too excited. He's embarrassed, but it turns out Tav finds it incredibly hot.

Warmings: Smut MDNI, Premature ejaculation, dry humping, fingering, PnV Sex, overstimulation, comfort sex, blood

Word Count: 2.2k

Astarion's grip tightens against your jaw, tilting your head slightly more to give him better access to your neck. The initial chill of his bite has settled to a delicious icy throb. A moan rips from your kiss-swollen lips, relishing the feeling of your blood flowing into his greedy mouth. You scratch your nails against Astarion’s scalp, combing through his tousled curls. A smile streches you lips when a shiver runs down his spine, and the hand grabbing your thigh tightens.

The majority of Astarion’s body weight is blanketing you. His hips slotted between your parted legs, mindlessly grinding against the inside of your thigh, too consumed by your blood to be fully in control. You rub his back, shoulders, neck, any skin you can get you wandering hands on and whispering sweet nothings into his ear. This has him purring into your neck and rutting faster against your body, chasing more pleasure.

This night, you had made sure to stock up on extra health potions and lesser restoration scrolls so Astarion could have his fill without worry of any repercussions on your health come morning.

And gods, you will be sure to make this a ritual from now on because seeing Astarion so lost in your body’s comfort, so relaxed and focused solely on his pleasure. It has your heart pounding and arousal pooling between your thighs.

Feeling the telltale signs that it’s time for Astarion to stop, you grab tightly at his shoulder giving him a little shake. “Star,” you slur.

Astarion sighs through his nose, taking one last sip before unlatching from your neck. He’s still lost in the haze of his feeding, eyes glossy and unfocused, trying desperately to meet your gaze. Tiny trickles of blood fall down his chin and onto your chest, where he messily laps the droplets with his tongue. Astarion’s hips are still pistoning against you, and little breathless gasps of pleasure escape his mouth. You swear you’ve never seen a more gorgeous sight. Then Astarion tenses, and with a choked sob of your name falls from his mouth, and he comes spilling onto your stomach.

The room stills.

Only the sounds of rapid breaths fill the room. Astarion’s eyes are wide open, and his mouth is agape, looking down at the mess on your stomach. You’re frozen, glued to the beads of sweat trailing down Astarion’s chest, moving down the planes of his stomach.

“Shit,” he backs away. An embarrassed flush–only evident due to the recent blood consumption– floods his face moving all the way to the points of his ears.

“Fuck,” you whimper needily, clenching against the rush of heat that simmers in your stomach.

Then Astarion lets you go, and you finally notice Astarion’s distress.

“I-that…shit,” Astarion stumbles over his words and hands you a cloth to clean yourself with. “I’m so–”

You pounce, and he catches you in his arms, looking startled. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence?” You growl, claiming his mouth in a chaste kiss, chasing the metallic taste off his lips. “That was so fucking hot.”

He clicks his tongue and lets go of you again. Backing away, Astarion starts picking up his scattered clothes. “Yes, I’m sure watching me cream myself like a boy being touched for the first time was just so attractive.” Astarion huffs and rolls his eyes. “Spare me,”

Feeling annoyed, you huff, knowing you need a different approach. Moving closer, you grab the clothes from Astarion’s hand, throw them to the side, and cup his jaw. You draw him into another kiss and trail a hand up the smooth skin of his chest, stopping to circle your thumb around his nipple. Astarion signs into your mouth and runs both his hands down your naked sides, pausing to squeeze your hips.

“My love, that was by far one of the most sexy things I’ve ever seen.” Voice low and seductive, your lips barely pulling away from him. “Seeing you lose control, drunk on my blood, on my body,”

Astarion shudders when you scratch your nails lightly down his chest before taking his hand in yours. Smiling wickedly, you peck his lips and pull away, ensuring he can see eyes.

“Hells, Star,” Pulling him, you guide his fingers to your dripping heat. “I’ve never been so turned on.”

This has the desired effect. Astarion’s nimble fingers instinctually begin exploring, and you bite back a moan. He pulls away quickly to examine his slick, covered digits. When Astarion meets your gaze, all embarrassment seems to vanish, and he’s pushing you back down onto the bed. He rests his forearms on either side of you, cradling your head. Astarion trails a thumb over the curve of your jaw. Your hands snake around his neck.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to having Astarion look at you like he is now. Like you hung the moon and crafted each star so he would never be alone at night. It overwhelms you with such love that all you can do is pull him down and capture his lips. The kiss has no urgency, just two lovers enjoying the soft embrace. It holds the warmth of a crackling campfire, its embers building to something that leaves you needing more.

Astarion coaxes your mouth open, and when you grant him access, he leads your tongue in a practiced dance. Feeling the tease of his razor-sharp fang, you moan, cupping the back of his head. You match the growing pace, hooking one leg over Astarion's hip to pull him flush against your body.

A groan rumbles through Astarion’s chest, and he gives a playful bite to your bottom lip, earning a squeak you will deny if asked about later. One of his hands moves down to delicately play with your breast, kneading softly before pinching your nipple between his finger and thumb. You break the kiss with a breathless gasp, tugging at Astarion’s roots, forcing a ragged groan from the elf. Astarion wastes no time to pepper kisses down the column of your neck.

“I don’t think I tell you enough, just how beautiful you are, darling.” He mumbles against your collarbone before sucking a bit of skin into his mouth and playfully teasing it between his teeth.

You chuckle, swing your other leg, and link them behind his back. “You tell me at least once a day, handsome,”

“You’re such a sap.” You tease and roll your hips up against Astarion’s cock, already swelling once again.

“See, not nearly enough.” He pulls away from the freshly marked skin.

“You, my love, are so breathtaking, exquisite, beautiful,” Astarion emphasizes each adjective with wet, open-mouth kisses down to your chest before beginning to suck another mark just above your heart.

He grunts, grinding back against you. “Only for you, my love.”

Astarion’s hand moves between your bodies to your neglected pussy. His deft fingers enter you with a wet squelch, and you instinctively buck into his palm. A whimper leaves your lips, and you dig your nails into the skin of Astarion’s shoulder. He set a pace that is both agonizing and toe-curling perfect.

“See what you’ve reduced me to, darling,” Astarion whispers sinfully, voice low and filled with temptation, his thumb finds your clit. He applies light pressure rubbing tight circles.

You throw your head, arching your back, clamping your thighs tighter around his waist. “Fuck, Star.”

Astarion picks up his pace just a notch; his mouth finds your neck again. “It’s all your fault.” He says before biting your ear.

You cry out his name, fisting the bedsheet, feeling the familiar coil building. You are so lost in your pleasure you barely notice Astarion is now rubbing his cock with his spare hand looking down at you with lidded eyes.

“M close Star.” You cry, bucking your hips against his palm. “Fuck.. don’t stop.”

“I am now merely a sappy, love-sick fool who just can’t control myself when it comes to you.”

Astarion is now pumping his fingers in and out of your sopping-wet cunt in a way that has your orgasm building quickly.

“That’s it, darling,” He groans, kissing you softly. “Let go for me,”

Electricity pulses through you, seizing every muscle, every nerve, and every cell of your body with blinding pleasure. You’re moaning and babbling nonsense and pulling him into a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. Astarion continues his ministrations, helping you ride out your orgasm. Finally, when the heat simmers down, he pulls his fingers from your body, leaving you whining from the loss.

Astarion is quick to put your whines at ease. “Will you give me one more, my love, please?” Astarion practically begs, kissing you with the desperation of a starving man.

The tip of his swollen cock slides through your folds and teases your sensitive entrance. You barely have time to choke out a yes, please, before Astarion is plunging into you with a grunt. Instinctually, you clench around his length, loving the feel of the fullness Astarion always gives you.

“Shit..so tight,” Astarion groans and begins to thrust frantically into your heat. “Always so perfect.”

“Astarion.”

All decency, coordination, and softness was tossed away. Both of you were too sensitive, too desperate for the other, to care for anything but mindless pleasure. It was messy, feral, and perfect. Astarion devoured your mouth, groaning against your tongue. His hands couldn’t seem to stay in one place, constantly caressing, grabbing, and massaging any part of you he could hold.

You spread your legs wide and angled your hips, bucking against each one of Astarion’s deep thrusts. One of your hands cups Astarion’s jaw, keeping him close, and the nails of your other rake down his back, causing a violent shiver to run through Astarion’s body.

“M-more..ugh, please.” You gasp out between Astarion’s feverish kisses.

He nods in return and grunts into your open mouth. “Shit..ugh,”

With a strength you hope never to get used to, Astarion effortlessly switches your positions. Your hands are on his chest, knees framing his slim waist. He’s on his back, smirking smugly up at you. You giggle dumbly, feeling dizzy from the sudden movement. That giggle turns into a wanton moan as Astarion thrusts up into you, hitting a deeper spot inside of you.

“Yes... Star.” Using the hold he has on your hips, he moves your body to pick up the brutal pace from before. “Gods,”

You bounce on your knees in time with his thrusts, and the room is filled with the slick sound of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of ecstasy. The pleasure is almost too much, and you feel the pressure bubbling again. You try to say as much, but a wave of pleasure has you gasping mindlessly, head lolling to the side.

Astarion wants to feel you come undone around him. Lose yourself so he can lose himself with you. So you oblige his request and snake a hand between your legs just above where Astarion is fucking you and begin to rub your clit in time with his quick thrusts.

“Love, fuck..ngh,” he chokes on a moan. His thrusts are faltering and getting sloppier.

“T-touch yourself for me... I’m close.” He trails off grunting, but you don’t need words to know what he wants.

It’s all too much, the angle of Astarion’s hips hitting the sweet spot inside you over and over, the delicious grip of his hand on your body, the tenderness of your clit as you add more pressure. You’re so close and trying hard to keep looking at Astarion’s beautiful flushed face and wanting him to be your last image before you fall into black-out bliss. But it’s getting harder to keep your eyes focused. Your numb legs buckle, and you stumble forward; your orgasm is almost painful. It tears through your body, ripping pleasure from your trembling muscles and fried nerves. You bite into the flesh of Astarion’s pectoral to stifle your sobs of ecstasy.

“Fuck, darling, good girl.” Astarion praises, grinding your hips against his. “Shit... I’ve got you.” And with a few shallow, pitiful rolls of his body, Astarion is cumming with a deep guttural groan filling you with ropes of his warm come.

He drops boneless, and you pant against his chest, heart still pounding against your ribs. You both are like jelly melting into a puddle on the bedsheets. You feel the drag of Astarion’s fingertips drawing nonsense patterns on your back. Humming softly, you pepper kisses over his still heart.

“Shouldn’t be embarrassed ’round me,” you mumble, yawning against his skin, too tired to raise your head. The feeling of Astarion’s fingers felt like a sleep spell. “I love you. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Astarion stiffens under you, hand stilling against your back, clearly taken back. It takes him a bit to respond, but you don’t rush him. Just continue to kiss his chest and melt further at the feeling of his hands on your skin. Content just being here with Astarion.

He clears his throat before saying thickly, “And I love you, darling.” Astarion moves slightly and pulls out of your tender cunt. In doing so, a gush of your combined juices spills down your thighs.

“Gross, now I feel sticky.” You puff, grimacing at the feeling.

“How about I draw us a bath?” You nod silently and he sits you both up. However you refuse to get off his lap, clinging to him like a sloth to a tree.

“Carry me?”

He kisses the crown of your head. “Always.” Astarion scoops you up and carries you along to the bath.

Heya, I quite like how this turned out. I love writing 'rougher' smut, but sometimes the tender stuff just hits ya know? Let me know what you thought. I hope Astarion didn't seem ooc.

If you want to be added to the taglist DM me, please!

Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive @skittleabyss @asterordinary @lariatbunny @whispering-depths @butchboi-chihuahua-slumlord @darkest-part-of-the-forest @queenofcarrotflowers-s @sessils @d20bunny @cherifrog @ophelia-ophelian

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 astarion #reader insert #astarion imagine #astarion ancunin #frantic fiction #bg3 #astarion smut #bg3 smut #fanfic #smut #astarion fluff #fluff

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astarionancuntnin · 5 months ago

Text

Remember Me

summary: you cant make sense of where you are or even how you ended up in this cell, hells, you're not even sure of who you are at this point; any memories of your past are a blur. its all the more confusing when a group of adventurers come rescue you, and a particularly worried pale elf takes it upon himself to help you remember who you are.

rating: E

word count: 7k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, reader is tav)

cw: 18+. angst, act 3 spoilers related to astarion's side quest, mentions of kidnaping and torture, memory loss, blood feeding, vampire bites, smut, oral (f!receiving), p in v, The Leg Thing followed by mating press, sweet love making, love confession. full list on ao3

a/n: loosely based on this audio (18+) from OGY.

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

Pain.

It’s the first thing that hit you when your consciousness came back to you.

How much everything fucking hurt.

Your entire body felt as if it had gone through the nine Hells, all at once; you could barely find the strength in yourself to get to your feet, let alone push yourself off the ground.

Then it was the disarray when you couldn’t place what had happened for you to feel so awful.

It was as if you had woken up from a long sleep; distant voices in your head, blurry faces merging together when you closed your eyes, and an awful feeling of emptiness, as if you had forgotten something extremely important but you couldn’t put your finger on it, no matter how much you thought about it.

Nothing but endless darkness.

As much as you tried to remember your life, anything before this moment, you were met with a dark fog clouding your vision. Your family, your friends — if you even had any — had all vanished from your memory. You think you remember yourself, for the most part, but even that was a stretch; you couldn’t even remember your own bloody name.

You look around you, realising for the first time that you were in a prison cell. The course of events after waking up in this dark cell hadn’t helped; the sudden cold inhabiting you, followed by this man — this monster — barging in without as much as a warning before pushing you face first against the ground and ripping open your shirt, to then torture you as he carved your back with his knife, only to leave as suddenly as he had appeared. Barely a few words exchanged, aside from some mumbling about teaching “him” a lesson, whoever that was, and you were alone once again.

Alone, with nothing but this seething pain in your back from the butchery you had gone through, the hunger digging into your belly, and your blood leaking from your shivering form, pooling around you on the cold, hard floor.

You barely had the time to gather your thoughts when the same man came back barely minutes later to carry you out of your cell and into a larger room — keeping you restrained with some magic that visibly came from his staff — where more people waited.

By the looks of it, you had been right on one thing: this was indeed a dungeon, and you were located in the deepest part of them; this room contained only a round, rock platform, located above an endless, foggy pit.

In the state you were in, you couldn’t catch everything he said as he went on a monologue. Something about powers, freedom; whatever it was, they needed you to achieve it, that was the only thing that was clear from his speech. You couldn’t understand how any of them would follow a maniac like him, but in their eyes you noticed how they listened to his words with as much fear as awe.

Your form was shivering from the cold; you wanted to cover up your top which had been previously ripped off from your body, but it was all in vain: the restraints of his magic kept you in place, and right after his speech, you were sent flying over a designated spot floating above the ground, just like all the six other people that had surrounded you previously.

Your arms remained bound to your sides by whatever spell this monster had cast on you, leaving your chest exposed to the damp, cool air of this dungeon, and your fresh wound stinging evermore at your back.

You remember the panic tightening in your chest when you realised you couldn't escape. You remember the brief relief, hope even, at the sight of a group of adventurers approaching — one of the figures shouting at the man in the middle of the room — followed by explosions and screams. Then the fear settled in when you saw them execute one of the other unfortunate souls magically held floating around this room, one new truth forming in your mind.

They weren’t here to save you.

You would be next. They would kill you. You would die here.

The pressure in your chest grew tighter as you closed your eyes and mourned your life, one you didn’t even remember experiencing, one that — you hope — had been full of adventures, of acquaintances… of love.

This last one must’ve been true. You remember being loved — more so how it felt, even if the feeling seemed so far and long ago. You remember the butterflies in your belly, the fluster in your heart, the heat between your legs; you remember just enough to know that if you died today, at least, you would’ve died as someone who had been loved.

You didn’t expect your feet to touch the cold hard ground once more. You remember falling to your knees, your body exhausted by the abuse it had gone through in just the last few hours. You remember your dry throat when you noticed the butchered corpse in the middle of the room, barely recognizable anymore.

“Gods… what has he done to you?”

But you couldn’t seem to place the face of your saviour. The bloodied, silver curled elf who had rushed to kneel next to you after defeating your captor, who approached you and held your face so carefully.

How those crimson eyes of his had widened in horror when you flinched at his touch and backed away.

Him and his group had killed one of you who stood in this circle, who’s to say he wasn’t here to finish the job? Lure you in with a sweet touch only to snap your head off; you knew better than to let yourself fall for the first man to approach you.

“Darling, it’s over now.” He had said with his voice low, getting back on his feet to approach you as if you were an injured beast, “Just take my hand, we’re getting out of here.”

You didn’t know whether to feel insulted or reassured by his assertiveness, but you remained frozen in place, your eyes switching from the hand extended out to you and his severe look that you reciprocated with a frown to hide your terror.

“Look,” he sneered, “you can either take my hand, come with me out of this hellhole, or rot away in this godsforsaken—”

From behind him, someone from his group called out a name which stopped him mid-sentence just as his tone was rising.

“Astarion.”

A name that felt oddly familiar, despite the void in your memories. It danced beautifully as it echoed across the room and around your mind; there was something about it that just sounded right.

Astarion. A name worthy of being written in the stars, you find yourself thinking, the sound of it bringing you a familiar sense of peace, of security.

Astarion. Maybe if you repeated it enough in your head, something clearer would come up. Maybe, just maybe, then you would remember.

He took a deep breath and continued, which brought you back from your reverie, “I’m quite certain you went through the Hells and back, but for now, I’ll have to ask you to trust me, just as you’ve done in the past. Can you do that for me?”

He extended out his hand once more, this time a request rather than a command, his voice carrying out his concerns, “Can you trust me?”

“Why would I trust someone I’ve just met?” You wanted to ask, but something about the way he asked struck a chord, as if you did know him. As if you knew he spoke true when he said you used to trust him, and you finally accepted the hand he held out to you.

A hand that pulled you to your feet, and guided you out of this dreadful place.

You were given a cloak to cover your shivering form, and you walked along with them back to their camp. Back to this intriguing, yet charming man’s tent, where they all agreed you should rest for the night.

The first thing that hit you when you stepped in was the smell.

You didn’t know what it was exactly, you couldn’t recognize it, but it was intoxicating; it only made your stomach churn more. As the adrenaline of the previous hour settled down, you fell to your knees, grabbing onto your waist as the pain that had been muted came back screaming through your guts.

“Shit—” He rushed down to check on you, with one hand down your back, holding onto you, “Darling, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“What isn’t wrong?! I was tortured, starved off, almost sacrificed for all I know, and I can’t even remember who I fucking am!” Is what you wanted to say, but all you could manage out is a groan in the middle of your sobs.

When you lifted your head, your eyes fell onto the set of messily arranged bottles from where the strong smell came from, and a quick exchange of glances told him everything he needed to know.

“Of course, you’re hungry,” He sighed heavily, "Look, I’ll gladly offer you some from my own reserves — after I’ve taken a look at your wounds.”

You had almost forgotten about them.

You averted your eyes from his gaze, your mind now racing as you expected the worst. You had no way to see what had been done to your back, but the pain you had gone through was a good indicator of how bad it would look.

Met with your silence, he continued, “I need… to see what he’s done to you. Please.”

Your eyes went back and forth between him and the dark bottles briefly considering pouncing on them to get a taste as your mouth watered in anticipation, but you reluctantly turned your back to him as you sat with your legs pressed back into your stomach, barely helping mitigate the pain in your stomach.

As you let the cloak fall from your shoulders, you heard nothing but a shaky, deflated sigh behind you. Seconds of silence passed before you considered turning around, but a part of you was terrified of the look you would find on his face.

You finally found the strength to utter your first words.

“Is it… that bad?” Your voice was rough from neglect, as the last time you had used it had been to scream when you received this torture.

You heard him take a deep breath, shaking away the shock that had previously rendered him speechless, “You must’ve already known what he carved away in your back. Hells, I knew before even looking, but seeing it…” he pauses, his tone quieting, “seeing it is another story completely.”

“I… I don’t know,” you muster with a weak voice. It's true, you had no idea, he had carved your damn back, you had no way to see the extent of his torture.

He took a deep breath, shaking away the feelings that had sneaked their way into his voice, “It’s no matter, it’s over now; Cazador is dead. He won’t hurt—” he paused, as if processing the information himself, “Anyone, ever again.”

You turned around to face him this time, “Who’s Cazador?”

He huffed, “I’m glad it was that easy for you to forget about him, but when you’ve suffered under his hand for nearly two centuries, the memories tend to linger.”

You remained silent as you stared at him, just as shocked as you were confused by his words. When he noticed your stare, his face twisted in concern, “Oh shit, you’re serious.”

You nodded silently.

He continued, tentatively, “He was my master, he’s the one we killed back in the dungeons — the one who abducted you, who did this to you. Do you not remember any of this?”

You shook your head slightly, never leaving his gaze.

“Oh dear.” His voice dropped as his eyebrows raised and his eyes widened all at once, “Do you remember anything at all — the absolute, our adventure… Do you remember… me?”

His eyes went back and forth between yours, as if he was searching them for any sign of recognition, looking for you, whoever you were behind those confused, teary eyes. You gave him another shy shake of your head, followed by a single tear coming down your cheek, a tear you weren’t sure why it was shed; whether it was from the loss of yourself, or the mourning of something you didn’t even remember having.

“Gods…” He breathed out heavily as his sight left you, his mind visibly ruminating. “He can’t… He couldn’t have… He…”

His tone suddenly changed as he growled, “That monster.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head before looking back at you, “You were with us just yesterday. You were — are this group’s leader. If… If you have no memories of your mortal life then it means…” he looked away, frowning, “He rushed your transformation to replace me in the ritual.”

None of the words he had said made any sense to you, “Transformation?”

He turned back to you to be met with your visible confusion, and he explained further, “Normally, when you’re turned, you need to be drained of your blood and buried six feet underground, before you can crawl out of your tomb to be reborn. This process takes a day, usually, and when you awaken, you are still you, but immortal and bound to your master,” he spat out the last word like it left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

“Now you,” he continues, “you were turned within twelve hours, which would explain why your eyes are only half red, why your fangs haven’t come out yet, and…” his voice quieted down, “why you have no memories of your past. As if the rushed transformation had actually killed this part of you along with your humanity.”

You remained focused on the first thing he had said: your eyes had changed colour?

You hadn’t had the chance to look at yourself since your awakening and if not remembering your name wasn’t anxiety inducing enough, you realised you couldn’t even recall what you looked like.

All of a sudden, panic rushed its way into your heart; you needed to see yourself. You frantically looked around the tent to find anything that could send back your reflection and practically jumped on the pocket mirror when you spotted it nearby Astarion.

Only the mirror was broken. It must’ve been; it reflected nothing.

“If that wasn’t obvious by now, this should’ve clarified things a bit,” he said.

He lowered the mirror you still held in front of you, expecting your image to be reflected eventually, maybe at a different angle, maybe with more light. Maybe another one would, maybe you were just delirious from everything that had happened only today.

“You’re a vampire now. No matter the angle, you’ll never see your reflection come out of this mirror. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Vampire.

The word didn’t make sense; nothing made sense.

Yet, when you parted your lips to let your tongue run against your teeth; you found your canines the same size they were, that they should’ve been, but they were much sharper than what would be considered normal and you almost pierced your tongue from the gesture.

“Maybe…” he carried on, lost in thought, “there’s even a chance that the tadpole has been messing around with more of the changes your body is going through.”

“Tadpole?” You interjected, your head shaking of its own in disbelief. “What?”

He huffed in astonishment, “So you really do remember nothing.”

You sighed, “I— I don’t… As much as I try, I’m met with a void of memories. The only thing remotely familiar since I woke up has been… you.” His eyes had gone soft and bright with hope, but also melancholy. “I don’t know who you were to me, and I don’t know why, but some part of me knew I could trust you.”

He chuckled, a sad smile finding its way over his lips, “Even with your memories gone, it seems I can’t leave your mind, can I?”

You gave him a smile of your own, “Would you mind… reminding me of my life? Of us?”

“Gods, where to start, darling. Would you believe me if I told you our story began with me holding a knife to your throat?”

You found yourself smiling unconsciously, “With everything that's happened to me in the last few hours, I find that easy to believe.”

“And strangely enough it's probably the least odd part of our story.” He tilted his head, giving you a genuine smile before carrying on.

“It’s all tedious, really, but… There’s one memory I want to tell you about: The night of the tiefling party. Ugh, it was dreadful for the most part; the wine tasted like vinegar, the music was too loud, and there were too many of those bloody tieflings at our camp, to be quite sincere— “

“Not a people’s person I take it?”

“My dear, after years of being forced on and by people, the last thing you want is to be surrounded by more of them.” The sight of you parting your lips and raising your eyebrows told him you had also forgotten about this and he quickly caught onto it, changing the direction of the discussion back to the topic at hand. “But, there was one good thing that came out from this night: when we met in the woods. I had high hopes of you joining me there — although no doubts, of course — I was the most suitable option among our group after all.”

“Most suitable? Someone else wanted to spend the night with… me?”

“Darling, the whole world and their mother wanted a special moment with you. But only one of us got that honour. A chance to steal away with everyone’s new favourite leader.”

The faint sounds of the party fading: music echoing through the forest, people laughing, the cool air of a summer’s night breezing through, and good company throughout the night.

“I have been waiting for you. Waiting since the moment I first saw you. Waiting… to have you.”

You blinked, “You… were waiting for me in the woods, I’m— I’m remembering.”

“I did put a lot of effort into my entrance, I would be upset if you didn't remember it quite honestly.” You laughed softly. “Do you remember what happened afterwards?”

Your eyes roamed as you pushed the memory further, before you lifted your head to meet his gaze, “You… kissed me.”

“After you had the audacity to say I didn't have you yet while you had come to me of your own volition, yes, and then?”

You chuckled, but your smile quickly faded as your memory unlocked the next part of this puzzle. He looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes; he was simply waiting for you to say it yourself.

“We made love.”

He sighed dramatically, “Love is such a big word for what happened back then, but…” his tongue clicked, accentuating the end of the word, “That was certainly the start of it. The start of a series of feelings that came and complicated everything. It’s what pushed me, soon after, to confess to you that it was all part of a silly plan I had to keep you in my favour. I was terrified, honestly, especially considering it was all because I initially manipulated you to fall for me…”

He paused, searching your expression before carrying on, and continued when he found nothing but soft eyes looking back. “But then — despite everything — there you were, holding me tight.”

He let go of a deep breath.

“For so long I had nothing — no one. And all of a sudden, there’s you, who held onto me, who cared so much more than anyone ever did. And I found myself not wanting to let go. I couldn't.”

He frowned, turning his gaze away, “And Cazador used that against me. As soon as he had word of my whereabouts in Baldur’s Gate and the crowd I was hanging out with, he jumped at the first chance to torture me once more. He probably thought I was unaffected by any physical pain he could impose on me by now, so he did the next worst thing: take it out on the one person I cared about in this wretched world.” He shook his head, “If we hadn’t gotten there in time—”

“But you did.” You interrupt. “You saved me and yourself in the process. This ritual wouldn’t have given you the freedom you think it carried.”

His eyes lit up, “You talk as if you knew what it entailed.”

You nodded, “It’s coming back to me, bit by bit. I remember what you told me about him. I remember the purpose of the ritual, and your plan to replace him and take his power instead.”

He sighed, “Gale thought brilliant to kill one of my brothers to stop Cazador from carrying on with the ritual. Bloody wizard didn’t realise it meant I couldn’t continue it myself then.

“Maybe he did.” His gaze flickered back to you in confusion before you continued, “You don’t need satanic powers to carry on, Astarion. You’re free now.”

He huffed, “And all it cost was my life in the sun.”

“Well,” you tilted your head, “It did cost me mine too. Once the tadpoles are gone, we’ll both be banished to the shadows once again. But we’ll be together, and that’s something at least.”

He rolled his eyes before landing them on you, “At least the transformation didn’t take away from your heartbleeding optimism, dear.”

You chuckled, “Thank the Gods for that— ugh!”

You clutched at your stomach, your body tilting forward in pain, and Astarion instantly knew the cause of your suffering; it’s something he recognized all too well.

“Hells, you must be starving. Gods know Cazador wouldn’t waste a single drop on a lowly spawn — no offence, dear.”

“None taken,” you forced a humourless laugh. “I shouldn’t have expected much considering I was to be cattle for a satanic ritual.”

He turned around and you kept a close eye on him as he handled the bottles beside him, pulling out a silver cup out of his bag of holding to pour you a portion.

“Here,” he sat back down, parting his legs open, extending one arm to you, “Come on love, sit back against me, would you?”

You stared unsure for a few seconds but obliged him. You scooted back until your back was fully resting against his chest, leaving no space lost between the two of you.

When he brought the cup forward you reached for it but he pulled back, clicking his tongue, “Oh no, my sweet, I will be the one to feed you tonight. This is your first time, we wouldn't want your primal instincts to take over now, would we?”

You turned around to stare at him for some time with incertitude and he simply tilted his head, with a sly smile, “Humour me, darling. You’ll be glad you did, hm?”

You pressed your lips together almost pouting, but acquiesced as you nestled yourself between his legs, your tense body laying against his chest once again.

He brought the cup to your mouth at long last, while his other hand held onto your chin. You gasped at his touch — while not unwelcome, it was a surprise — and you parted your lips to welcome your drink.

His hands were rough against your skin, yet there was a softness to it that made you melt under his touch. Made you want to push further into his hand to know how it would feel around your throat. It was almost enough to make you forget about the drink against your lips. Almost.

While the mere closeness of it had been invigorating, drinking it was ecstatic. It felt like your first meal in weeks, and it might as well have been with the pit that had replaced your stomach.

You took big gulps of the delectable nectar, barely pausing for air as you rushed to empty the cup’s content, eager to have your fill with this delicious substance.

“Slowly now darling,” he pulled the cup away from your lips and you gasped at the loss of your feeding source, “This is your first time feeding; I wouldn’t rush things.”

You frowned, but complied; even if you were starving, he had over two hundred years of experience with this form — you barely had a few hours. Your mind wasn’t all there yet either, and it's true that you couldn’t trust those new primal instincts to be civil enough to drink responsibly.

You held onto the one truth you knew, one that was clear ever since the start: you trust him.

You eased back into him, letting him hold you and guide you throughout your meal. The cup rested at a slightly down angle against your lips to allow you good mouthfuls of blood without overfeeding you all at once.

“There, good girl,” he purred. “You are doing so well for me, love. Small sips now, let your body recuperate from the shock.”

There was something about his voice that soothed you, brought you a peace of mind, a calm after this storm that had been your last few hours.

A shiver down your spine, that travelled all the way down between your legs.

You finished the content of the cup at a slower pace than you had started, soothed by his soft approach and the new blood filling your stomach, and he took this chance to explain more about your condition while pouring you another serving.

“Considering this is your first feeding, you’ll need a bit more to carry on until your next meal. Mind you, it’s normal if you don’t feel full; this is a curse, after all. The real challenge is to learn to live with your hunger.” He cleared his throat as he brought the cup back up to your lips, full again, “Alright now, open up, love.”

You hungrily parted your bloodied lips to welcome another serving.

“There, there, just like that.” A soft whimper left your throat between sips, and he caressed your cheek with his thumb, “Shhh, you're okay, you're doing just fine.” He leaned next to your head to whisper, “You’re perfect, my sweet.”

For a moment, you could swear you felt your heart beat anew.

You drank with his help until you finished one full bottle from his reserve, and with the pain in your stomach settling down, you allowed your body to relax against him. That’s when you felt something poking against your back, something you wanted to taste as much as the blood that had blessed your tongue just moments ago.

And he must’ve known, too.

“So, as you must’ve realised, your hunger was a side effect of the transformation. But what you’re feeling now, which I can very much smell on you, is a result of your feeding.”

If any of the blood you had ingested had made it in your veins by now, they must’ve all rushed to your cheeks at this very moment.

“Blood,” he continued, “Brings us back alive temporarily; it warms us, allows our hearts a few shy beating of their own, but it also reawakens other mortal pleasures. The first time it can be… a tad overwhelming.”

“It’s…” You hadn’t realised how quiet your heart had been until it started beating away once more in your chest; your cheeks felt warm, your breathing had accelerated, and your core was aching. You breathed out your reply, “It really is.”

As you turned your head aside, resting against his shoulder, and your eyes lingered over his lips, another primal urge awoke in you to devour him, in every way possible. You needed to taste him, his mouth, his blood, his come—

Until you were blessed with another sudden memory, and you turned away from his lips, gazing anywhere that wasn’t on him to stop yourself from acting irrationally.

“Wait, no, I’m sorry—”

He grabbed your chin and turned you back to him in one fluid movement. “You have nothing to be sorry for, darling, and I would be more than happy to entertain these carnal thoughts I saw in those eyes of yours. Unless you’d rather spend the night with someone else?” he teased.

You held your breath as he brought you closer to him, his hand lingering over your cheek. If you just closed the distance now, you could—

“No, Astarion, I won't force—”

“Stop that right now.” He cut you off without skipping a beat, stunning you once more. “You are not forcing yourself onto me or forcing me. This, right now, right here, is my decision.”

His other hand came up to cup your face, drawing you closer to him, your lips but a whisper apart.

“I want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice lustful and heavy with need. “I want… you.”

Your eyes locked and the second after, his lips were pressed against yours and you let yourself get lost into this kiss. How his hands held on to your face, how his tongue tasted the blood on your lips, how he whimpered into your mouth at the contact of your own tongue; this memory of love you had remembered earlier, it had been a memory of this.

His kiss, his touch, his voice, him.

Your kiss was engulfing, springing your heart back to life in a sudden rush as you met every of his kisses with the same passion, and soon enough, you were laying back against his bedroll, with him over you and stealing your breath away; one — you didn’t realise yet — you didn't need anymore.

His hands rested next to your head and you allowed yourself to reach up to hold his face, trace the lines of his age over his cheeks and down his neck, and trailing along the opening of his shirt before he broke apart from your lips.

“I’ve been thinking about this for many nights now.”

“What would I be like as a vampire?” You asked semi-jokingly.

“No, silly — Although, the question did flit into my mind once or twice, but no. I was thinking of how I would have you, the next time I would bed you. I’ve touched myself at the thought of having you again, the sounds you would make, how your cunt would feel wrapped around my cock instead of my hand—”

He took your hand from where it was resting and guided it down between his legs, and a short gasp escaped you when you felt how hard he was.

“ —but tonight, after spending a lifetime looking for it, I finally know what I want.” His half-lidded eyes seemed darker than they had been, and you lost yourself in them, "And Gods help me if I can't have you—”

“I’m yours,” you answered back in a heartbeat, your voice but a whisper, “I’ve always been, and I’ll always be, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Your words broke the remaining chains of control Astarion had over himself, as he pulled your pants off from you and removed his own shirt while your hands fumbled with his trousers. A moment later, you both laid against one another, as bare as you were on your first days on this plane of existence, your lips back on each other.

“Mmh, I wonder…” Astarion let his kisses trail down from your mouth to your jaw, then your neck.

“Hm?”

“Now that you’re a vampire,” he left small kisses alongside your neck and down your shoulder, “your blood will taste different.”

“You’ll still drink from me?”

“Well of course, dear,” he lingered in the crook of your neck, before licking his way up to your ear where he whispered, “And I can’t wait to know how you taste after you’ve tasted me.”

You shivered against his breath, fully expecting him to bite you following those words, and when he didn’t you were almost disappointed. He, on the other hand, seemed extremely satisfied with himself.

“Eager already? And here I thought I was the most depraved between the two of us.” You sighed heavily as he came back up to face you, “Maybe I will be tasting you tonight, after all. Is this something that you want?”

You smiled softly, your hand finding his cheek again, “Yes.”

When your lips met this time, it was soft, pure, communicating words you hadn’t exchanged yet despite your longing for one another. It only made you want him more.

“Speaking of tasting you,” he said against your lips, “I wonder if something else has changed.”

You barely had time to process what he had said when he made his way down your chest, briefly sucking on one of your nipples.

“Mh,” he released it with a pop, “this one still tastes the same.”

He moved to your other breast to give it the same attention, teasing it with his teeth and earning him a moan from you before releasing it, “This one as well.”

He left a path of kisses as he trailed down your navel, until he was resting between your legs with a hungry look in his eyes, “Now, for the main course—”

You weren’t prepared for his fangs to dig in the inside of your thighs, making you scream in surprise as your hands grabbed onto the sheet of his bedroll. The pain quickly turned into pleasure as he nibbled and kissed the softness of your thigh, before making his way to your wet slit, which begged for attention.

The smell of you invaded his senses and you could feel his breath over your core as he breathed you in, his arms now wrapped under your thighs as he laid on his stomach and between your legs, “Darling, you smell divine.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips as his tongue pressed against your entrance and he slowly licked all the way up to your clit, “And you taste— Gods, you taste even better than before.” He smiled up to you, his mouth covered by a cocktail of your blood and juices. “I didn’t think it could be possible.”

You were past words by now, but even if you had come up with something, you don’t think you would’ve been able to utter anything with the way his tongue worked between your legs, devouring you of your essence.

“I would forsake blood for the rest of my days if it meant I could nourish myself only of your essence, my love,” he said between licks of you. “The Gods truly made you to ruin me; I could never move on from your taste, even if I wanted to.”

His hands surrounding your thighs and his nails digging in your flesh kept you in place as he continued to worship you, and no matter how much you wiggled, his hold on you held on, as if you were the first meal he was having in days and he wouldn’t let you go until he was sated.

Astarion recognized the signs of your unbecoming as your breathing started shaking and your legs tensed around his head, pushing him to tease you further.

“Are you gonna come for me now?” He smiled between your legs, “Come on, love. Come for me. Come on my tongue.”

The vibration of his humming as he continued to savour you only added to the feeling of his tongue, lapping at your entrance and sucking over your sensitive bud, and his nails digging deeper into your thighs added a delicious hint of pain. After weeks without any sex, you were sensitive to the slightest touch, and now there he was: tasting you, devouring you, wanting you; it was all too much.

“Ah… Astarion!”

Your head fell back against the rough floor of his tent as your back arched and stars clouded your vision. You knew how ironic it was to think so, but you had never felt more alive than you did at this very moment, with your devoted lover worshipping you like the goddess who had finally answered his prayers from all those years ago.

Your legs collapsed as he let go of them to move back up to face you, and he took this chance to hook your leg with his, pushing it upwards to create the perfect angle for him to place himself against your entrance.

Your half-lidded eyes met his, delirious with lust, and you wanted to express the feeling that had been weighing on you for too long now, but when his lips collided with yours and you tasted yourself, all those words got lost on his tongue exploring your mouth.

“I’ve waited so long to finally have you,” he said breathlessly against your lips. “I kept pushing back, thinking it was never the right time.”

He licked his lips, wiping off the string of saliva that connected your mouths. “When you disappeared… I thought I had lost my only chance. I’m done waiting around.”

He slowly pushed himself into you with a low groan as he felt your slickness wrap around him, and you threw your arms around his neck as you moaned into his ear.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. So tight and warm, all for me. I would stay here inside of you for a decade if I could. You feel exquisite, my love.”

He retracted himself slowly, and plunged back in with the same agonising pace, taking in the feeling of your inside. “I’ll enjoy taking my time with you; discovering what makes you tick, tease every one of your sensitive spots. But tonight — I just want this: feeling you wrapped around me and to know that I’m the reason for your unbecoming.”

His pace accelerated, each thrust of his hips brushing against your clit as your bodies almost fused as one, pushing you closer to another edge already.

A particularly well placed thrust had you dig your nails into his back and he hissed into your ear, “Darling,” he panted, “Remind me to trim your nails when we’re done.”

You quickly realised what he meant when a poignant smell, stronger than the bergamot, brandy, and rosemary you smelled on him previously, invaded your nostrils and your mouth watered in response. What you didn’t realise was how you ended up breathing down his neck, just against the popping vein conveniently displayed for you to bite down on. Just one bite away from ecstasy.

“Still hungry, little love?”

You were snapped out from your daze by his voice purring into your ear, pulling away from his neck and blinking as you gained back control of your thoughts.

“I’m— It’s just— Your blood smells really, really good.”

He chuckled, “I tend to have that effect on people. Would you like a taste?”

You forced yourself to look into his eyes, “I… Are you sure?”

He smiled, “There’s nothing I’d like more, my love.”

His gaze reflected sincerity and you gulped as you found your way back in the crook of his neck, your lips brushing against his sensitive skin. You licked the vein you had sensed earlier but didn’t push further. That’s when you felt the vibration of his chuckle, “Go on, darling. I can take it, I promise.”

With his permission, you pushed your small fangs right over the vein in his neck, relishing in the sudden flood of his crimson in your mouth.

Whatever you drank a few minutes ago was nothing compared to his blood. He was the source in a desert you had been roaming for days, one you couldn’t believe wasn't an illusion, and you drank, and drank, losing yourself in his neck, in his taste, the very essence that fueled him.

You couldn’t tell how much you had drank or how much time had passed when he growled and pinned your arms next to your head. His hips thrusting once, deeper into you and hitting your cervix is what makes you unlatch from his neck with a moan.

“I believe that’s enough, love. Now, let me taste you.”

His lips collided with yours hungrily as he increased his pace between your legs, and he groaned at the taste of himself on your lips, running his tongue across your small fangs.

“Fuck, I need you, I need to make you mine. I need—”

Something snapped within him, a side of him you couldn’t recall ever seeing — one that he could finally let go as he pushed your legs up, pinning them down across your chest and pounded deeper into you.

He growled into your ear as he desperately rutted into you, nearing the edge of his climax at the same time as yours, “I want you, I want you for the rest of our lives, please be mine, be mine, be mine!”

“I’m yours, I'm yours, I— I love you!”

You screamed as you came, his own orgasm following closely after yours, the wave of emotions clashing with the sparks of pleasure coursing throughout your body, and for a moment, you think you died and came back to life within the same minute. It was stronger than anything you remember feeling — even with your memories still scattered, you think you’d remember something as powerful.

It’s only when you came back to your senses and was met with Astarion’s soft, dumbfounded expression, that you realised what you had just said. Panic slowly made its way into your heart and you struggled to find the right words to correct yourself.

“I’m sorry— I—”

He didn’t allow you to finish that sentence, kissing you once more to steal away those thoughts of regret that faded instantly as he pulled back to speak.

“I love you too, darling.”

Your future was paved with incertitude; your memory wasn’t all there yet, but you remembered what was important for now, and if forgetting your past was the price to create new memories with him, it was a price you were willing to pay.

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obsessedwhyyes · 6 months ago

Text

A Sound Hypothesis

Part 1 of The Scientific Method series.

Summary: Inexperienced in the ways of love, you often find yourself labelled an overthinker. But then again, you are a scientist. When your incredibly beautiful travelling companion proposes a night you'll never forget, suddenly you're left wondering, are you really ready for this? Ever the scientist, you propose an experiment, and get more than you bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4762 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader Content: Act 1, smut with plot, inexperienced nerd reader, making out, oral sex (giving and receiving), hand job, cock worship, blowjob and handjob instruction (ie. Astarion teaches you how to pleasure him).

A/N: Can't believe this got to nearly 5k words, good lord. Actual smut comes in half way through, but it's still rather spicy before then. Also, writing handjobs is hard.

The events of the night prior felt like a dream, yet you remembered each moment vividly.

“I’m beginning to like the whole package, honestly,” he had purred, “and you clearly like me too, so I was thinking…”

You looked into his eyes as he gazed confidently, hungrily into yours. There was only him in this moment. Well, him and the quickened pulse of your heart pounding in your ears. You were certain he could hear it.

“We could take an evening to ourselves. Get to know each other a little more intimately.”

But you were struck with a hit of nerves then. You had lived a sheltered life before your abduction. A wizard and a scholar, your pursuits had been in the sciences and that of perfecting your craft, rather than in stolen moments of lust with beautiful strangers. Not to say you hadn’t experienced a few stolen kisses, however. But to give oneself entirely to another - that was a very different, much more intimidating affair. Yet there was no denying the spark that flickered between the two of you as you spent your days and evenings together, and that spark ignited a growing ache within you that lingered each night you retreated to your bedroll.

“I want to, Astarion. Gods, I really want to, but I’m…”

You hesitated and tore your eyes from him; fiddled with your fingers for a moment.

“You’ve never done this before,” he finished, causing you to look up suddenly from your busying hands.

“I had my suspicions. I’d have already bedded you twice over otherwise.”

You could only laugh, not only at the sheer audacity of his remark, but because of course he knew. Gods, he could probably smell the inexperience on you from a mile away.

“It’s your decision, of course. Should you wish to keep things light between us, we’ll end our evenings together as friends. If you decide you want a little more, however–”

He stepped closer to you - close enough to feel his cool breath on your skin and smell the freshness of his cologne.

“I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering delicately where your neck meets the line of your jaw. He was playing you like a fiddle, and you knew it. But gods, if his tune wasn’t a siren’s song in the night. You wanted nothing more than to dance to it.

And then he kissed you.

Gods, the way he kissed you.

There was need, yes; a hunger not unknown to you even in your limited experience. But it was a hunger wrapped in a velvet blanket of familiarity, as though he had known your lips as long as his own. He was certainly skilled, there was no denying that.

The chill of the night air felt like a splash of cold water to your senses once his lips left yours, and you found yourself mourning the loss of his touch.

“Think about it,” he had said that night, before retreating back to his tent.

–

And here you are, wrapped in your bedroll, thinking about it. Ceaselessly.

About his voice, laced with the sweetest honey, speaking promises of nights wanton and dripping with ecstasy. About his smile, teasing and rakish, and the feel of his lips against yours which you missed like home.

You think about the times you let him feed from you; the gentle way he held you, one hand cradling your head. The soft, pleasured noises that would rumble from his chest as he grazed over the soft flesh of your throat - and sunk his teeth into it. Then, greedy, he would begin to pull you close, your chest flush against his own. Every time he fed, it was as though the gates holding back the flood of every primal vampiric instinct within him were unleashed at the taste of you; the ambrosia that is your life essence which you willingly gift to him. And every time he fed, before you reached the point of no return, you would break him out of his trance - a simple series of taps on his shoulder - and he would release you from his predatorial embrace.

It was in those moments, you would see the look in his eyes: ravenous, pupils blown, boring down into you as you lay there beneath him, vulnerable. Your gazes would linger and gods, how you imagined what it would feel like to be entangled with him; for him to take his pleasure from you.

No, you tell yourself. This has been going so fast. Your time together has been so short in the grand scheme of things yet, with the threat of ceremorphosis looming over you, your time on this mortal plane may be fleeting. One might argue that now is surely the time to experience that which you have not… isn’t it?

But what if this isn’t what you actually want and this aching need within you is simply a manifestation of the stress your increasingly bizarre situation has brought you? It is not unknown for one to develop bouts of hypersexuality in times of stress, or so you have read in books detailing such occurrences.

Suddenly, an idea presents itself. A scientist such as yourself requires a chance to gather all available evidence before coming to a conclusion. A little experimentation, perhaps. Then, you’ll know for certain if your attraction runs deeper than you give your body credit for. Your honed mind will not be governed by a set of primitive bodily urges - you’re better than that. You won’t allow it.

For now, sleep beckons. Tomorrow, you shall put your idea into practice.

–

The next day passes as swiftly as you had hoped. You’re eager to welcome the night. You and your companions had seemingly settled into a predictable routine when it came to your evening endeavours: your fellow wizard and friendly rival, Gale, would slave over the cook pot with the limited items you had procured over your journey, while the Blade of Frontiers himself regaled your group with stories of his adventures, punctuated with commentary from your remaining companions, ranging from crude to complimentary. Food would be eaten and domestic duties fulfilled, after which, everyone would begin their journeys to their bedrolls. Well, everyone bar you and Astarion. As the resident elves, you require far less rest than that of your travelling companions. It was in these moments, where the camp lay dormant and the two of you sit against a fallen log by the campfire, that you had developed something resembling a rapport with Astarion. You have become rather fond of your night time talks.

Tonight, however, you have plans beyond repartee.

You feel emboldened by your plan. Where before, you were thrown into territory unknown, unprepared and anxious, now you have the comfort of scientific method on your side. You know exactly what to say - you’ve thought of every possibility after all.

Sitting side-by-side, you turn to him, determined.

“I was thinking about your little proposition last night.”

“Were you now?” Astarion replies with a smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet. I always imagined that the first time I, um…”

“Did the horizontal dance with an esteemed companion? Engaged in amorous congress? Fucked?”

“Had sex,” you quickly correct, halting his attempts to fluster you further. “I always imagined the first time I had sex would be under slightly less unusual circumstances. We’ve been under nothing but stress ever since we got off that damned Nautiloid. I can’t tell if this desire I’m feeling is because I truly want to spend the night with you, or because my body just wants a distraction.”

“Is that such a bad thing? We’ve worms in our brains and danger is lurking around every corner. Our time is short, darling. If I can provide our dear leader a little respite in these tumultuous times; offer up my services in her time of need, that sounds like time well spent, does it not?”

He shuffles closer to you, resting his arm behind you on the log which you both lean against.

“Besides,” he continues, his voice low and close to your ear, “you’ve been so good to me, offering up your neck for me to savour. It’s only fitting that I offer you a little distraction in return.”

“I don’t want to just… use you as a distraction, Astarion. Gods, I offered you my blood because I wanted to help you, not because I expected a favour.”

For a fleeting moment, his expression shifts. And just as quickly, his smirk returns, embodying a practised sultriness that has surely wrapped many a soul around his fingers.

“No,” you continue, “if I have sex, it will be because it’s something I truly want to do; that I’m ready for. Not just a fanciful distraction. I hope you feel the same.”

That expression again, barely noticeable. You can’t quite decipher it.

“So, darling,” he purrs, “what do you suggest?”

“I was wondering if I could kiss you.”

“Ha! Can’t get enough, eh?”

“I just think that, with a little more evidence, I might be able to see if this is something I’m truly ready for; to discern whether this desire is real, or simply a physical response to this gods-awful situation we find ourselves in.”

He laughs, seemingly amused by your reasoning, and your heart flutters at the sound. Unexpected.

“Gods, are you always such an overthinker?”

“I just think it would help me come to a decision.”

“Is that what this is then? Your little experiment?”

“I’m nothing if not a scientist,” you tease back.

“Alright, my dear. Your terms are acceptable. A kiss, for scientific reasons, of course.”

Of course, you say to yourself. That… is what this is, isn’t it? Simple evidence gathering?

You have no time to consider this as Astarion places a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze fully to his, and suddenly, you hear your pulse pounding loudly in your ears once more. Gods, his eyes are beautiful.

An easy smile, a tilt of his head, and he presses his lips to yours, delicate and familiar. He’s gentle, at first: his lips linger on yours a moment before kissing you again, a tender sensation. As you close your eyes and immerse yourself in the feeling, the world around you quietens. No longer do you hear the crackling of the fire as it dies, the chirps of insects, or the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

At this moment, all you know is him.

You succumb to the coolness of his touch, the smoothness of his skin, the freshness of his scent - sensations so overwhelming that your body responds of its own accord, letting free a soft moan into his mouth.

As though in response, Astarion’s hand lowers from your cheek and trails from your neck, your shoulder, to your waist, as though committing each dip of your body to memory, before pulling you closer to him. Your hands, in return, plant themselves against his chest. His body feels hard and angular against the softness of your own.

As his tongue seeks permission to dance with yours, there is a hunger; a fieriness that threatens to engulf you. The kiss deepens, and you realise with a start that your legs have entangled themselves with his.

Pull yourself together, your mind screams. You’re meant to be in control of your body, not the other way around.

Or so you think, when suddenly, Astarion’s hand moves to your arse - the cheeky sod - and he skillfully, seamlessly rolls you onto his lap, taking advantage of your entangled legs, purposefully positioning you so that you’re straddling him.

Shit.

You gasp. You had forgotten to breathe. He notices and, gods, the smug look on his face. He knows he’s taken you off guard, and worse still…

He knows the effect he’s having on you.

The wall you had carefully constructed between your mind and body begins to collapse, brick by brick. As you kiss, the final fragments fall away, and everything that was once separated threatens to come together in a powerful, unified surge of desire if not for the final threads of your self-restraint.

His body desires this as much as yours, it would seem. As you straddle him, his hands caressing you as they drag up and down your back, you notice a distinct hardness digging into you, oh so close to your core. It takes more willpower than you’ve ever known to not grind into that hardness, seeking the release which you ache for. You are a tautly drawn bow, the tension between your mental focus and physical yearning almost unbearable.

Noticing how stiff you become, Astarion retreats from your lips, tilting his head in playful curiosity.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, darling?”

“I… I…” You barely recognise your own voice as it strains to come out of you.

The bowstring snaps.

You yield.

Your mind and body merge into a mess of lust and desire, and you kiss him hard and greedily. He returns the enthusiasm in kind, releasing a groan into your mouth as he does so. You want this. You want him.

Astarion pulls himself from your lips and turns his attentions to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses where, other nights, he had sunk his fangs. As he does so, you hear his voice, husky in lust.

“You know, if you still need a little more “experimentation,” I have a couple more ideas for you…”

His voice gives you goosebumps.

“... I’m particularly skilled with my tongue, after all.”

You nod.

“Your tent or mine?”

–

As you’re pushed against the bedroll within the privacy of your tent, you’re overwhelmed by a desire to feel every inch of Astarion’s cool, hard body on yours. It was such a primal need, to be enveloped by him; an urge beyond anything you’ve experienced, causing you to wrap your arms greedily behind his neck as you kiss each other, pulling him closer, but never close enough. His hips grind against you slowly, deliberately, granting you a brief, delicious friction which sends shivers up your body and fuels the incredible ache between your legs.

Astarion sits back up on his knees, admiring the mess of you, a smile on his pretty lips. You can only imagine the state you must be in: hair wild, eyes wide and hungry, clothes dishevelled. But your appearance is a distant notion in the back of your mind as Astarion lifts the hem of your skirt and removes your undergarments, sopping wet from your arousal.

You feel vulnerable, exposed to him like this, your desire on full display in front of the very man who you spent nights dreaming about. While his lustful gaze lights a flush of red across your cheeks, it doesn’t cause you to recoil; instead, you find yourself emboldened as he lowers himself between your legs, holding your gaze with eyes hungry and hooded.

He drags his lips up your thighs, leaving kisses so teasing that brings forth the neediest of sounds from your chest. When he reaches your core, he slides a tongue up the slit of you, agonisingly slowly, painfully gently.

Head rolling back, you anticipate the feeling of his tongue within you, but then…

He diverts his attention back to your thighs.

Bastard.

“Astarion..!”

“Eager little pup, aren’t you? Don’t you worry, darling - you’ll get what you desire. Once I have my fun with you, of course.”

He shifts, propping your legs over his shoulders as he grants you an audacious glance and grazes his tongue over you once more, sending a wave of tingles radiating across your body.

You begin to pout at his teasing action, and–

His tongue enters you.

He glides it firmly from your entrance to your clit, lapping you up in one motion, releasing the most wondrous groan, as though the nectar of your arousal is sweeter than any honey.

And so, like a man starved, he devours you, gauging quickly the sensations you prefer, alternating skillfully between firm strokes of his tongue, and the most teasing of flickers across your clit.

Your back arches, and you can do nothing but grasp at the edges of your bedroll as he works at you, leaving you in a state so blissful that you don’t notice the wanton sounds being cried from your lips.

“Easy, love,” he purrs, the loss of his tongue against you causing you to whimper. “As much as I enjoy hearing those delectable sounds of yours, let’s not wake the others, hm?”

You can only cover your mouth with your hands in a feeble attempt to hush yourself as he continues his ministrations. As your eyes meet and the pleasant ache in your core begins to swell into an all-encompassing warmth across your body, you wonder if this is what it feels to be revered as a deity would, your every sensation treated with the kind of awe that only a god might know.

It is when he enters you with his fingers - first one, then two, thrusting in rhythm with his tongue - that the warmth, now an inferno, reaches its peak. It surges through you like a divine crescendo, each wave of your climax a new blessing that floods your senses with a celestial rapture, singing his name like the sweetest hymn.

He caresses your thighs as he brings you down slowly from your high, grounding you.

As you return once again to this mortal plane, the lingering euphoria elicits a fit of giggles from you.

“Well,” Astarion smiles in return, removing himself from the home he has made between your legs, “you certainly seemed to enjoy yourself.”

“I did. I really did. Thank you.”

As you both sit yourselves upright once more, he presses another kiss to your lips. You taste yourself on him.

“I hope our little experiment was very informative for you,” he says with a wink. His words are teasing, but spoken with a gentleness that surprises you.

The truth is, you do have one more idea.

“Can I, um… Can I do the same for you?”

“What?” He says a little too quickly. Noticing this, he brushes his hair back with his hand to a more presentable condition, regains his composure, and continues. “I mean, you don’t have to. To see you squirm under my touch, that’s pleasure enough for me.”

“I want to make you feel good too.”

“You want to?”

That same indecipherable expression. A man with as many notches on his bedpost as he claims must have had some less than favourable conquests every now and then… Perhaps he’s had some bad experiences when receiving too? You suddenly find yourself cursing your lack of experience in these matters. You’re not exactly brimming with social expertise either.

“I probably won’t be the best - not as good as you - but I want to try. I always find that the best way to develop one’s skills is to practise under the guidance of a trusted expert. So… could you teach me how to make you feel good?”

Your gazes linger for a moment as he seems to assess your resolve.

Seemingly satisfied, he smirks, a well-practised aura of sultriness fitting back into place once more. All traces of that mysterious expression dissipate before your eyes.

“Well, darling, if you’re so eager to please me, who am I to stop you?”

You slide up to sit next to him as he begins to unlace his trousers, and suddenly you find yourself unsure of where to look. You’ve a scholar’s knowledge of the physical form; men’s anatomy is no stranger to you from an analytical perspective. And yes, you’ve fantasised about Astarion’s… parts before, as much as you have tried to deceive yourself into believing it was nothing more than a passing, intrusive thought. Yet, now that you’re here, about to perform the most intimate of acts to your beautiful travelling companion for the first time, you become bashful. You can’t quite believe the situation you’ve gotten yourself into tonight.

Yet, as he lowers his trousers and underwear to his thighs, revealing himself to you, all thoughts of bashfulness, of anxiety, cease to be for a moment.

“Hells, Astarion.” You look upon his hardened member with disbelief, measuring its girth against your arm. “How is that going to fit inside me, exactly?”

A slip of the tongue.

He grins, very pleased with himself. “Getting ahead of ourselves, are we?”

… And there returns that familiar flush of heat to your cheeks. Shit.

His chuckling lets you know that he has, in fact, noticed your embarrassment.

Seeking to swiftly change the subject to the much more pressing matter at hand, you ask, “can I touch you?”

In wordless agreement, Astarion guides your hand to his cock, which glistens slightly from the beads of precum elicited from the head. As you hold it, his hand remains over yours, coaxing you to move up and down the shaft.

His cock isn’t warm as you would imagine a regular man’s to be, owing to his vampiric nature, but you note its hardness; the way it pulses beneath your touch; the way his foreskin glides over the head so seamlessly. You squeeze him, fascinated.

“Gently, love. Like this.” He demonstrates by applying a light pressure to your hand and twisting ever so slightly as you both reach the tip, then loosening his grip as he slides you back down his length. You repeat the motion, tentatively. Gods, you hope you're doing this right. He made you feel incredible. You want him to feel incredible too. But oh, what if you hurt him, what if you–

“A-ah…”

The softest sigh of pleasure from your companion interrupts your thoughts. It sends wonderful shivers throughout your body. You find yourself eager to coax more of those little sounds from him.

A newfound confidence flares within you, and you gradually increase your pace, up and down and up and down the shaft, squeezing and twisting lightly as your beautiful instructor taught. In a sudden bout of curiosity, you glide your thumb over the head on your way back down and–

“Ah!”

There it is again. That most delicious sound.

“Exactly like that, darling. Exactly like that.”

He removes his hand from yours as you continue to pump him - you are a fast learner, it would seem - and moves it to reach your cheek, turning you to face him. As he leans his forehead against yours, you notice his breathing has become heavier, just ever so slightly. Instinctively, your breathing begins to match his, and you feel an intensity in the air that gives you goosebumps. Then he kisses you, and it is hungry. Ravenous. Greedy. His hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, gripping your hair lightly, pressing your lips firmly against his.

As you continue to pleasure him, you find yourself becoming greedy too.

You want to taste him.

Between gasps for air, you ask him, “can I use my mouth on you? The way you did for me?”

“Mmhm,” he says into your kiss. It feels almost a shame to remove yourself from his lips, but you have greater plans yet.

You both reposition yourselves. He turns to lie himself back on the bedroll, and you crawl down his body to position yourself between his legs. So close to his cock, you find yourself admiring it, taking in every detail: the thick vein on the underside of the shaft, the way the head throbs a colour darker than the rest, eager for release.

You're overwhelmed with a primal desire - a need - to please, to give.

To worship.

“Gods, it's beautiful,” you think aloud.

“I know,” he remarks confidently in return. You roll your eyes at his arrogance, but in this moment, in your eyes, even you can't deny that his cock is perfection. Your mouth waters at what is to come.

You hold his member delicately, like a jewel most precious, planting kisses up his length. A soft sound escapes from Astarion’s lips and suddenly you are emboldened, determined to gift him with bliss as he had gifted you. To do so, however, you would need a little instruction.

“Tell me how to please you,” you plead, and you feel him twitch at your words.

“You are eager,” he purrs, propping himself up with his hands to gaze down at you. You notice a shiver and a sigh, ever so slight, when you trail a line of wetness from base to tip with your tongue.

“In that case,” he continues, brushing a strand of hair from your face, granting him a better view of you, “lick your lips and hold it at the base. Then I want you to get to know it a little, so to speak. Use your mouth around the head and start slowly - there's no point in rushing in, eh?”

You obey, shaking off the lingering feelings of bashfulness at the directness of his words, and wrap your lips around him. Out of curiosity, you swirl a flattened tongue around the head and gods, his skin is so smooth, still slightly salty from precum. His cock twitches and you hear him gasp above you - he’s especially sensitive there, it would seem.

Where are his other sensitive spots, you wonder.

Time to experiment. You are nothing if not a scientist.

You bob your head and relax your jaw to the best of your abilities, taking in just a little bit more of him each time your mouth glides up and down, keeping your tongue flat against him to flick against the sensitive tip each time you glide back up the length. The sounds he makes - oh, those sounds. His moans are like velvet, a soft, deep timbre that caresses your senses and makes your loins ache once more. Every murmur seeps into your being, igniting your senses and fuelling your need to explore every inch of him. You continue your journey down and down his length, savouring the taste and the texture and–

You gag as his cock touches your throat.

Astarion recomposes himself. “Easy, darling. Use your hand where your mouth can’t reach.”

“Like this?” Your hand pumps the shaft in rhythm with the motions of your mouth and tongue, and Astarion’s head rolls back for a moment.

“Like that,” he exhales heavily, “and suck gently.”

There’s a certain sense of empowerment, unravelling him like this. You relish in every moan that escapes his lips, every twitch and pulse of his cock as you attend to him. The lewd, wet sounds emitted as your hollowed cheeks suck his length. His hand finds its way to your hair, fingers weaving through the strands with a gentle authority, pushing you hard enough to guide you to an ever-quickening rhythm, but gentle enough not to force himself down your throat.

“Use your other hand,” he says between breaths, “hold the balls softly.”

You do as he says, giving them the gentlest of squeezes as you attend to him, and his breaths grow deeper, uneven. You sense the rising tension in him, a tide gathering strength beneath the surface.

He gives one final instruction.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes meet with a stormy intensity and, as you pump up and down with your lips and fingers at a dizzying pace, the intensity seems to surge through him with the force of an ocean swell, powerful and all-encompassing.

With a tremor and a groan so delicious that you find yourself moaning instinctively in response, his cum fills your mouth. Your eyes water, taken by surprise by the force of his release, but you do your best to swallow each wave, releasing him with a wet pop as his climax subsides.

Some moments pass and, in the afterglow, the tent is filled with a comfortable, profound stillness, and only the sounds of heavy breathing - yours and his - as you both return to your senses.

“Did you just..?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“I did,” you reply with a grin, showing him your tongue to reveal that not a drop went to waste.

He laughs warmly, and your heart flutters.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He kisses you deeply as he sits up, seemingly undeterred by the taste of himself.

“I think I’ve gathered enough evidence to consider your proposition,” you say teasingly.

“Tomorrow night then, darling?”

Bastard.

But yes, you think to yourself. Tomorrow night. You’re ready.

Part 2, An Empirical Study, can be found here!

Masterlist can be found here.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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