#bg3 fanfic

[andthekitchensinkao3]

Emmrich x Astarion what now?

@indiscreettransexual your 'I don't go here, but I'm here for THIS' vibes inspired this post <3 And since I was tagged by @kcscribbler @notyourmamasdeerbat and @insert-witty-user-name-here let's call this my WiP Wednesday post. Sorry in advance, everyone. <3

Just to get this out of the way: I am not implying I know all about these characters, and this is by no means an attempt at an in-depth psychological analysis of either Emmrich or Astarion, nor is it an exhaustive explanation of either fictional worlds - this is me sharing my thoughts and ideas regarding why I’m so excited to dig into this BG3 crossover fic. And to let those of you unfamiliar with either Dragon Age or Baldur’s Gate/D&D get the lay of the land.

In other words: welcome to my TED Talk, below the cut.

Also, sorry for tagging you in all these posts, @tinygameralec <3 See how far I'm running with your idea?

The worlds

Both Thedas and Faerûn are continents in worlds steeped in the Dark Fantasy genre, populated by an assortment of races/species that coexist with varying degrees of success. You have dwarves and elves, humanoids with horns (Qunari/Kossith and tieflings, half devils/half humans et cetera), hurlocks and genlocks; hobgoblins, goblins and orcs. The list goes on, especially for the D&D world.

The Dragon Age games have gradually moved from classic dark fantasy with overt oppression and systematic abuse to its latest instalment, which is basically a game about grief, loss, and how to recover from that through the combined strength of your friends and community; you have to own up to your mistakes, and try to save the world from being literally corrupted by a Blight. And there are two escaped elven gods out to squash anyone opposing them like a little tiny insect.

Baldur’s Gate 3 shares some of those themes of ragtag companionship and joining forces to save the world, but it also really digs into the darker aspects of its genre. It’s gory, disturbing, and asks all kinds of questions about what it means to be Whoever You Are in a world that largely gives less than one single fuck about you, and, more or less actively tries to kill you for any number of reasons - chief of which being you’ve been infected with a thousand-toothed tadpole that will turn you into a tentacled monster set on world domination in a matter of days.

Thedas has a High Fantasy religious system, where you have Fantasy Catholicism, and Elven Paganism, but no Hell, no demons. When the god referred to as ‘the Maker’ deemed mortals unworthy, he pretty much said “You’re on your own, kids, good luck finding redemption. Deal with your own shit.”

Faerûn has demons galore, and several levels of Hell - and a whole plethora of deities. Dwarves have their own pantheon, as do elves and humans - if you’re an elf or dwarf from the Underdark (drow or duergar, respectively) you have your own set of gods and belief systems. One of the playable races in BG3, githyanki, worship a living ruler called Vlaakith. She’s so powerful she basically named herself a god/ascended to a godlike status among her people. And then, of course, there are the Ilithids, the tentacled race of psionic powerhouses that Astarion will be transformed into - unless he finds some way of removing the tadpole germinating inside his brain.

So, on the surface, the worlds are inhabited by similar creatures, share similar themes of corruption (and how to fight it) while Faerûn is vastly more diverse with regards to player characters and religious systems.

On the topic of elves

Because Astarion isn’t just a vampire spawn, but a High Elf, let’s dig into the different views on elves.

In Faerûn, elves are, by and large, considered to be beautiful, capable, and trustworthy… with some exceptions. They come from all walks in life, and can have different origins - in BG3 they’re limited to High Elf, Wood Elf, or Drow. Drow are EVIL! Just look at those red eyes! They worship spiders! WOE! No, it’s not that simple, but for hyperbole’s sake. Drow BAD, other elves GOOD.

In Thedas? Elves BAD. Elves of the Dales? BAD and godless, savages the lot of them. City Elves? A burden on human society, honestly, why are they even here? Let’s bundle them into ghettos and strip them of practically all their rights, and sell them as slaves. That oughta teach ‘em.

What about mages, then?

Mages in Faerûn? Excellent! Scholars and sages and natural savants, they’re all good. Necromancers good, sorcerers good, everyone wants to know a capable mage for all those pesky Quests you want to go on. As long as you're not outright Evil, you're cool.

Mages in Thedas… Dangers to society, let’s strip them of all their rights, take them away from their families the moment their magic manifests and put them in Circle Towers - prisons where mages are kept under surveillance at all times, educated in the fields of magic, and if they don’t pass their final exam, they’re killed on the spot. Wouldn’t want one of them to be possessed by a demon, and turn into an Abomination. Oh, and if, for some reason, you don’t have the skills enough to control your magic, or your mind isn’t deemed strong enough to resist a demon’s influence, you can either opt for a magical lobotomy, or be subjected to it by Fantasy Catholic Church. Or, you know. They kill you ded.

(Dragon Age: the Veilguard scrubbed the lore a lot with regards to the oppression and systematic abuse of both mages, elves, and others. While I can appreciate why, I like keeping some of it intact in my fics, while retaining the Found Family vibes of the Veilguard companions)

So… what happens if a High Elf vampire spawn gets portalled into a world where actual vampires only exist in a few lore entries as being people possessed by hunger demons, and most recently as a single instance of party banter between Emmrich and another of the companions? Where the first bunch of people he encounters are all Basically Decent, and don’t assume he’s a cold-blooded murderer? Where the assassin of the team gets him blood from the butcher’s so he can join them at meal times. People actually ask for his input and help with stuff?

And, because this is a slash fic, what happens when our Outwardly Suave Dork Who Cannot Deal with Feels gets involved with the Respectful Genteel Necromancer of All the Big Feels and Romantic Gestures? Well...

So. Who are Emmrich and Astarion (and why should anyone care)?

Emmrich is the ‘gentleman necromancer’ of the Veilguard team. He’s a human mage and a scholar, 50 years old (according to data mined from the game), devoted to his Mourn Watcher duties. The Mourn Watch are a dedicated class of necromancers who tend to the dead, while safeguarding both them and the living. Mourn Watchers revere the dead, and take their jobs very seriously. Emmrich is also a corpse whisperer, which lets him speak to those who have passed. Emmrich also has an assistant and ward, called Manfred, a reanimated skeleton (assembled from donated parts) and imbued with a spirit of Curiosity.

Emmrich comes from a commoner background, and is currently at a stage in his life where he’s academically accomplished, renowned and wealthy, at the higher end of the social hierarchy, and he wants for almost nothing. But he’s got two major Things with a capital T that weigh on him: he suffers a fear of death like you wouldn’t believe; and he’s never found a love that lasts. His Major Choices have to do with facing his own mortality, or choosing to become an immortal guardian of the world. His Wound (emotional driving force) is losing his parents at a young age. When he feels wronged or cornered, he can be petty and cruel.

Emmrich is a Romantic. Capital R on that one, too. This is our man of Big Emotions. When he falls for someone, he plummets. He doesn’t just fall in love, he crashes - but of course, he’s old enough now that he’s outwardly composed about it. Naturally.

Astarion is a rogue and a charlatan; a vampire spawn formerly working as a magistrate in one of the largest cities of Faerûn, Baldur’s Gate - all while enslaved to a cruel master, the vampire who Sired him. Recently kidnapped by mind flayers and infected with a thousand-toothed tadpole that will turn him into a tentacled monster with aspirations of world domination, Astarion finds he can be out in the sun again. He can step into water, for the first time in two-hundred years. He can enter homes uninvited, he can think for himself, free of his master’s influence/mind control.

Astarion’s Wound, as it were, is the abuse of power, and has to deal with the abuse he’s suffered over the past two centuries. Depending on choices you make in the game, he can either begin to heal, or become more bent on revenge and accumulating power of his own.

I will die on the hill that is Astarion is a Dork who hides it well, but! He is charming when he wants to be, cunning, vindictive, and has Enormous Issues with Emotional Intimacy. He's snarky, sassy, flirty, and will absolutely use sex as a means to get into someone’s good graces, or to get the upper hand, attain status within a group, you name it. Not a problem. But Actual Feelings? Noooo.

Care, or don't, but I think it will be really neat to explore their different dynamics, but also dig into their diametrically opposed approaches to, and views on, love and intimacy.

Yeah. Astarion will resist any suggestion of Love (ugh) while Emmrich, of course, will crash… and burn? That’s the question, isn’t it? How to mesh their character motivations, Wounds, and let them have their Happily Ever After. All while telling a story that fits into the Veilguard plot.

Expect the usual from me: Dual POVs, Big Emotions, High Stakes, and ANGST.

@ghoulehhh @natendo-art @in-my-loki-feels @kusakichan15

@devilbearingtrouble @impulsemuppet @mirilyawrites @scifikimmi @silentxsymphony

@rin-love-is-green @confetti39x @stillwanderingflame @elodiah @lokimobius

@insert-witty-user-name-here @blackbirdofasgard @dreamycloud @distracteddream @thosegayoldmen @crowtoed

@mobius-m-mobius @dilfmobius @adorbspotat @lgwilt

 @redheadsramblings @starfleetteddybear @mercars-musings @holyglassbone @genocidalfetus @wolfpup026 @elodiah @notyourmamasdeerbat @lavender-tea-fling @otterpocketz

[astarionmylife]

18+

When you and Astarion first have sex, it's all an act. It's a carefully precise performance he is putting on. Perfectly timed grunts and groans, pretty seductive language. He puts up a domineering front, disassociates like he always used to. It's second nature to him now, sex is not a tender act of affection anymore. It's a deal, the only thing he can offer in a trade. He's in control, simply exists to make you feel good.

As the two of you get closer, when you start experiencing feelings for each other, he doesn't know what to do. He feels lost, and the sex is much gentler. He's starting to feel comfortable with you, sometimes allows you to top and take control as he surrenders. His mask of pretense is dropping, his perfectly manicured act falling apart. He finds little whiny moans escaping him as he finishes. He finds himself clinging to you more and more, trusting you with more parts of his past.

After awhile, the two of you are open with each other, very much in love. You take care of him when necessary, and while the sex is never the same ideal as it was, it's so much more satisfying. And sometimes he can cry during sex, sobs falling down his cheeks as he sloppily thrusts into you, head buried in the crock of your neck as you stroke your fingers through his hair and whisper affirmations into his ears. And on the less emotional but just as horny days, you can spend days in bed, alternating between just holding each other, and pounding into each other. Life is good.

[frantic-fiction]

Tease 18+

(Pic: cheekylittlepupp)

Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x Tav

Summary: The party is taking the night off. You're convinced to wear a dress, and Astarion just can't control himself.

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, Semi-public sex, caught in the act?

Word Count: 3.2k

Mastarlist

Standing in front of the mirror, you pull at the dark green fabric, tugging it down this way and that. You try again to tie the corset but give up quickly. You swing your hips, and the flowy skirt swishes, tickling the skin above your knees. Looking yourself up and down, you zone in on your hips, squirming at the fabric extenuating your curves. So much skin on display makes you want to steal someone's spare cloak to hide in. You weren't one to be self-conscious, but you're used to donning armor and leather, not this scrap of fabric Karlach had convinced you to buy. 

You should just change. Grab some leggings and one of Astarion's shirts, and call it a night. You didn't need a dress to catch his eye; you know how Astarion feels about you; wearing a dress won't change that. Backing away from the mirror, you're just about to rip the dress off when Karlach bursts into the room, Shadowheart following behind her at a much tamer pace. 

"Soldier!" Karlach squeals, stopping suddenly in the middle of the room. She slaps her hands on either side of her face. "You. Are. Gorgeous!" Your face burns as Karlach pounces on you, spinning you around to give her the best view from every angle. Heat creeps up your chest and you giggle awkwardly.

"She's right, you look stunning," Shadowheart smirked and added, "Ten gold Astarion won't be able to keep it in his pants."

"20, he won't make it to a room," Karlach shouts.

"Gods! You both are ridiculous." You squeal, swatting Karlach's hands away and stepping back from her excitement. You huff and fix your skirt. Crossing your hands over your chests, you glare at the girls before timidly looking off to the side. "So, I don't look silly?" The hesitation is evident.

"All joking aside, I assure you, soldier, you are beautiful. And I know for a fact Fangs won't be able to keep his eyes off of you."

You beam under Karlach's compliment, doing a few excited calf raises because you have no idea how else to handle her words. Shadowheart moves towards you and fixes a fallen strand of hair. She gives you a soft smile and moves to finish lacing your corset, patting your arm when she’s done.

"Now we should go. The others are waiting downstairs," Shadowheart motions everyone to the door, letting you take a moment to slip your shoes on. 

After months of endless travels and brutal battles, the party decided to take the evening to drink, relax, and enjoy each other's company. A night to forget the tadpoles and the Absolute. All except Lae'zel, who scoffed at the idea, were joining in on the fun.

Descending the stairs, you slammed with the melody of lively tunes played by a band of minstrels, competing with the animated conversations of patrons. The music, infused with the spirit of celebration, is so loud that it vibrates through the wooden beams of the tavern. The dance floor is alive with energetic movements as couples twirl and spin to the rhythm and the joyous laughter of those lost in the moment.

The bar is surrounded by a sea of drunk patrons clamoring for attention. Tankards slammed onto the worn surface as the bartender poured frothy ale and mead expertly. The dim light of flickering candles and oil lamps casts a warm glow on the diverse crowd. The unmistakable odors of stale ale, greasy food, and the tang of sweat intermingle in the air, creating a distinctive nostalgic and pungent aroma. You're lost in the crowd's movement, overwhelmed with the sounds. You grab onto Shadowheart's elbow like a lifeline.

"Karlach!" Wyll calls and you all snap your head to the side. The party had claimed a booth, and Gale and Wyll were standing up, waving their arms over their heads. They looked like they started early on the drinking; both men's faces were flush, and they each held an easy, dopey grin.

"Wyll!" Karlach linked her arms with yours and Shadowheart's and approached the table. You let her pull you, too busy searching for him. Astarion is slow to stand, but you know the moment he sets his eyes on you. You watch the subtle change in his body language. His hand tightened around the goblet; the exaggerated inhale of air as if someone had kicked him, watching the hunger grow in his eyes.

Now, you feel the confidence bloom in your chest. The dress no longer makes you squirm in discomfort; no, it gives you power and makes you feel desired and sexy. The flame ignites low in your abdomen. Suddenly, you were playing with fire and excited to get burned. A smug smile stretches your lips the closer you get. Pulling away from Karlach, you move and hook your arms around Astarion's neck. You pull him down and place a kiss on his cheek.

"Hi, handsome," you smile up at him, feeling his hand caress the small of your back. Cold fingers playing at the edge of the corset.

"Hello darling, you look breathtaking." He pushes you back gently, giving him space to take in your attire. "Turn for me, my love. Let me look upon the goddess before me."

You roll your eyes at his cheesiness but oblige his request, spinning slowly to allow Astarion to take in every angle. When you come full circle, Astarion captures your lips, and you fall against his chest. His lips meld against yours in a sensual kiss that was entirely inappropriate for the amount of people around, but neither of you seemed to care. Humming against his mouth, you cup his jaw and pull his face away. Astarion chases your lips and lets out a low groan when you deny him what he wants.  

You give Astarion a mischievous grin, patting his chest when you ask. "Do you mind getting me a drink?" 

He gives you a pointed look, visibly dissatisfied with his kiss. With one look and your hand running up his chest and over his shoulder, Astarion caves with a huff. "Yes, of course. Would you like your usual?"

"Yes, please." You say pecking his lips a final time before joining your friends in the booth. 

Wyll was regaling the table with a tale of his early days as the Blade of Frontiers when Astarion slides in beside you. He sets your drink down, and you whisper your thanks before taking a sip and focusing back on Wyll. Gale is quick to call out Wyll's bullshit, Shadowheart pointing out the exaggeration the warlock had blended into his story. It soon devolved into a bickering match as Wyll tried to defend himself. You chuckle between sips of wine, leaning into Astarion, setting your head gently against his shoulder. His hand had found your bare thigh, fingers kneading the supple flesh. 

Suddenly, your friends become background noise as your senses hone in on Astarion. The cheeky smirk that stretches his lips tells you he knows exactly what he's doing as Astarion inches his smooth hand further under your dress—never crossing the line but far enough to make you clench your legs together in need. You bite your lip, cheeks burning from more than the alcohol, and reach down to take his hand in yours. 

"I know what you're doing,"

"Oh, and what is that, my dear?" Astarion grins, bringing your hand to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles. He leans to your ear, "Do you not want me to touch you?" His breath cascades over your neck, and a shiver runs up your spine.

"Not when you're trying to tease me in public."

"My sweet girl, I'm not the one being a tease."

"Soldier! Stop making goo-goo eyes at Fangs, and come dance with me!" Karlach yells across the table, breaking whatever spell Astarion had you under. Pulling away, you look up to see Karlach jumping up and down, hand outstretched for you to take. 

"You know I won't say no to dancing." Astarion reluctantly moves to let you out of the booth. Karlach is quick to grab your hand and pull you towards the stage. 

The time is lost in the beat of the drums and the flow of your hips. Karlach twirls you around, and you can't stop giggling. Wyll joins in the fun, and suddenly, the crowd has formed a unified line dance. It's messy, and you don't know the steps, but you watch Wyll and poke fun at Karlach's improvised moves. You dance until your breath is ragged and your feet start hurting. Moving your body until the sea of people starts to drown you. Maybe it's the alcohol coursing through your veins or the excitement of the dancing. Still, the fun quickly turns to overstimulation that blankets you in thick sheets. In an instant, the room is too hot and too loud, and if you don't get out now, you just might scream.

You leave Karlach and move towards the door outside to the back alley. Pushing it open, you stumble over the threshold and inhale the cold night air. It instantly sobers, clearing your mind and easing your panic. You stare up at the starry sky, soaking in the bright moon. Goosebumps spread over your exposed arms and legs, and you shiver. It doesn't stop you from stepping further into the alleyway as you breathe and allow your heart to settle its pounding. You can still hear the muffled music and thumping feet. 

You hear the door open again but pay it no mind until Astarion speaks, "There you are, my sweet."

You turn on your heel and give him a soft smile. He glowed under the moonlight, an ethereal being standing before you, his face partially cast in shadow, staring at you with hunger. "I needed some air."

"I'm sure you did," Astarion smirks, stepping closer toward you. A predator stalks up to its prey. "All that dancing you were doing must have been exhausting."

"It was, but it was so fun." You reach out instinctually, wrapping your arms around his neck. Astarion smoothes his hands down your spine to the swell of your butt, moving to squeeze the soft, plump flesh. "You should join me next time." You squeak at his grip, pressing yourself closer to him.

Then his lips are on yours, and your back is digging into the rough brick of the alleyway. Astarion's tongue is in your mouth, and you're moaning, gripping his shoulders to find purchase. One of his fangs nipped your bottom lip, and your knees practically buckled under you. You would have fallen if Astarion hadn't pressed you against the wall. 

"I think I just might take you dancing tomorrow." His cold hands caress your thigh, pulling it up and over his hip, pushing up the fabric of your dress with it. "I'll buy you a pretty new dress to add to your growing collection, and I'll have you move your body for me like you've been doing all night." 

He rolls his hips into yours, and you cry into his neck, kissing his skin to muffle your noises. "Swaying those hips in this tight little thing. Gods darling, I've been hard all night, and it's entirely your fault, you naughty little minx."

"Astarion," You sigh, relishing the friction of his hard cock against your clothed core. 

"Such a cruel woman, dangling a feast over a starving man. I'll have to punish you for that." Astarion purrs, running his nose along the line of your jaw, stopping to bite at his favorite spot; his fangs puncture the surface just enough to have droplets of your blood trickle out.

His tongue lavishes over your skin, making sure not a drop escapes. The moan that rumbles through his chest is purely animalistic, and a rush of heat gushes between your legs. "But right now, my naughty girl, I'm going to fuck you here against this wall." 

You let out a whimper, hips bucking instinctually, heat coiling in your lower stomach. "Please.." 

Astarion takes no time to push your underwear aside and push two of his fingers into your folds with a lewd, wet sound. Astarion begins to pump his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt, with each stroke curling up just slightly. The rough pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit, and applying pressure, he circles the nub in time with his fingers. 

"You're already so drenched, always so ready for me." You pull his face in and sigh into his mouth, niping his lip playfully. Threading your hand through his soft curls, you give a soft tug, relishing in the grunt Astarion gives you. 

You're painfully aware of your surroundings and know that someone could step out and catch the two of you any moment. The thought gives you a jolt of excitement you'll have to think about later. There is no room to take your time, so you tug harder on Astarion's hair loss, pulling his lips from the flesh of your neck he was playing with.

"Star," You roll your hips against his hand impatiently. "I need you to fuck me already,"

"So impatient, but you are right. This is not the time to play." Astarion tsk before unceremoniously ripping your underwear off and stuffing them in his pocket. 

"I liked those."

"I'll buy you a new pair, maybe one to match your new dress." Astarion peppers kiss down your neck. Your hands move to pull his pants down, freeing his cock. It's red and looks painfully swollen. Astarion hisses through his teeth when you give the base of his cock a tight squeeze. 

"I want one that matches the new dress and the same ones you just ripped." You countered, giving him a few languid strokes using his precum as a lubricant. 

"Whatever you want, my love." He says mindlessly, taking you into another breathtaking kiss.

Astarion hands leave your cunt, and a whine leaves your lips. He kisses your pout and quickly grabs his cock. Astarion pumps himself a few more times before lining up at your entrance. When Astarion sheaths himself fully in your heat, the wind is knocked out of you. A collective groan of ecstasy escapes from both of your mouths. There is no build-up, no room to catch your breath. Astarion quickly pulls out and slams back into you—your back scraps against the bricks, and your foot slips on the cobblestone.

You yelp scrambling to hold on and not fall pathetically onto the dirty alley floor. Astarion, without skipping a beat, scoops you up fully in his arms. All you can do is wrap your legs around his hips and hold on as he pounds into your dripping cunt. 

"Gods, you're perfect," Astarion signs into your neck. He pulls at your dress, moving the corset just enough to expose one of your breasts. He bends his head and sucks your nipple into his mouth. You choke on a gasp; cupping the back of his head, you press him further against you. 

"Astarion," you moan, carding your fingers into his curls. Rolling your hips, you match his thrusts. Your lower stomach tightens, and you will not last much longer. Not with him pulling you apart in the way only he can. You tried to say as much, but you choke on a sob when Astarion's fingers find your clit. 

He grinds your hips into the brick wall and brutalizes your clit with tight circles. His voice is raspy in your ears. "I'm close, love…ngh - gods, you feel so good."

"A-astarion, please!" Tears bead down your cheeks, pleasure overwhelming your senses. Your muscles are tightening. Your legs quake, and you clench tightly around him. 

"That’s it, come for me, beautiful." And that is all you need to see stars, opening your mouth in a silent cry. Ecstasy courses through your veins, and you bite down on his collarbone to ground yourself in your pleasure. His hips stutter, pace faltering as he loses himself in your body, spilling his seed deep into you. 

Neither of you moves; the brick is now uncomfortably digging into your back, but you can't find the energy to care. Astarion peppers kiss up and down your neck. You scratch his scalp softly and catch your breath. It’s nice.

"I guess I should wear more dresses."

"My dear, you could wear a burlap sack, and I would have still taken you against this wall."

"Horny bastard." 

The two of you were too caught up in each other to notice the tavern door opening again. Nor did either of you notice two figures stepping out. At least not until Karlach's loud cackle echoed down the alleyway. You whip your head in her direction, Astarion following suit. Karlach is hunched over and on her knees, shoulders shaking with laughter. Shadowheart stands beside her, arms crossed with disgust and annoyance plastered on her face.

Astarion is quick to turn you away, shielding you with his body. He let’s you go and you scramble to cover yourself. He helps you fix your dress. Great. 

"What did I tell you? Fangs couldn't keep it in his pants long enough to find a room!" Karlach booms, slapping Shadowheart on the arm. "Hand it over," her palm extended in wait. You hide your face in Astarion's neck, face burning in embarrassment. 

Shadowheart mumbled something under her breath, digging in her pocket for her gold pouch. "Here," the gold is slapped into the tieflings palm. She turns to the two of you. "Find a different cleric to cure whatever disease you've contracted in this filthy alley." Shadowheart quickly turns back into the tavern, the door slamming behind her. 

"Well, thanks for the gold," The tiefling beams and skips after Shadowheart, leaving you and Astarion alone once more. 

You refuse to leave the space between Astarion's jaw and collarbone. Thoughts of packing your stuff and running to Candlekeep are crossing your mind. Karlach and Shadowheart are already telling Wyll and Gale about your exploits, and you don't want to handle the smug looks. 

Astarion's chest rumbles with silent laughter, and you're pulled from your escape plans. You emerge from your safe space and glare up at the man. "What's so funny?!" 

He laughs harder, and runs his thumb over your pout, cupping your jaw. You hold firm in your annoyance and turn your head. "Karlach is telling all of our friends that we just fucked in a dirty back alley, why would you be laughing?" You snap.

"You would think at this point Shadowheart would stop betting on our love life. Tsk, all the gold she's lost." You narrow your eyes at him. His playful smirk widens. "She and the other weirdos should know how shamelessly I want you. They were lucky I didn't fuck you on the table." 

Rolling your eyes, you shove him hard, forcing Astarion to stumble back. Moving past you storm towards the door; he's laughing and calling your name. Astarion, only get your middle finger before the tavern door closes behind you.

Astarion is a cheeky shit. I love him.... Let me know what ya thought, i love your feedback.

Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna

[brabblesblog]

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

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

Whither is thy beloved gone?

Remember ye not the former things.

Art by @pickled0ctopus

[vixstarria]

Missionary with the lights off

We're back in Act 1 again! I swear I'll start moving forward now that I'm playing the game again, after this.

Astarion x Tav, Astarion x F!Reader

18+, blood drinking, fluff to smut, porn with plot, PIV

Pst, don't let the title mislead you too much

Approx. 1,800 words

AO3

You woke up in Astarion's tent.  

Last night had been… unusual. Something you said had soured the mood for anything sexual. Instead you stayed up talking late into the night. You hadn't even taken your clothes off.  

You'd never spent the whole night together before, always opting to make your way back to your respective tents eventually, after your nocturnal activities, but then again you’d spent those previous nights opening your legs more so than your heart. Something had now shifted a little.  

The last thing you remembered was drifting off with your face nuzzled into his neck as he draped an arm over you, having hugged him on a whim and finding yourself not wanting to let go. What you saw now was completely contrary to that memory, as you found yourself lying on your side, with Astarion's head pressed against your chest, right over your heart, both arms holding you close. He must have moved himself while you were asleep. 

He looked perfectly at peace. It was actually adorable, seeing the prickly rogue like this.  

You reached out to softly run your hand over his disarrayed curls, when he also stirred. 

“Hello, darling,” you purred, copying his habitual greeting for you. 

Astarion was startled, suddenly jolting up. He seemed momentarily disoriented, taking in you and his surroundings for a few moments before comprehension returned to his eyes.  

“Are you alright..?” you asked. “I know it's first thing in the morning, but surely I don't look that disturbing.” 

“Yes, sorry… I just… I can’t remember the last time I woke up next to someone,” he said finally. 

“The night at the clearing..?” you offered. 

“I didn’t sleep that night,” he admitted. “And now there's a woman in my tent and I don't know what to do. ...Ahah..! Refresh my memory, what is the protocol? Do I need to make you breakfast?” he joked. 

“I’m sure Gale’s already working on that,” you grinned. 

Astarion laid back down next to you, propped up on an elbow. He gave you an odd half-smile with a slight frown, his eyes narrowed. Not unkindly, but rather a bit… awkwardly. You wondered what he was thinking. 

You ignored the odd look, and instead your eyes wandered up to survey his bedhead. No trace of pomade was left in his hair, instead some of it was standing on end, while other, longer strands started to fall over his eyes as he leaned on his hand, watching you.  

“What is going on here..?” you laughed, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. He leaned into your hand as you ran your fingers through his hair, shutting his eyes, his lips widening into a genuine smile. He reminded you of a cat that was enjoying a head scratch.  

“I don't have the slightest idea, darling,” he drawled. “But I guess you have to die after all, now that you've seen it.” 

“You are a horrible flirt, you know, and I don't mean that in a good way." 

“It works on you, doesn't it?” he shrugged, grinning and leaning in for a kiss.  

“Hmm, but returning to breakfast,” you said, breaking the kiss as his lips slowly made their way down to your neck. “What about you? Fancy a nibble?” 

“If it's on offer…” Astarion purred, continuing his way down. He knew your body entirely too well at this point. His lips lingered on the exact spot that made your breath shudder, sending a wave of shivers all through you. “Where..?” 

“Right there,” you breathed.  

“Oh? You want me to leave my mark on you, right where everyone can see..?” he murmured, continuing to kiss your neck. You usually offered him your wrist.  

“It’s not like they don’t already know what we’ve been doing, so sure, mark me...” you replied. “Mark me as yours,” you added in a hoarse whisper.  

Once the words were out you wondered if it was too much, but Astarion clearly liked the idea. He liked it a lot, judging by the soft growl he let out, as he continued to trail his lips along your neck, searching for just the right spot. You knew he'd found it, you remembered where he's bitten you before, but instead of going in for a bite he toyed with you, leaving slow, deliberate licks, until you released a small moan, and only then sank his fangs in you, lightly grinding his hips into yours as he did.  

Something about a vampire's bite made it quite unlike anything else. It started off as a sharp, icy chill, gradually spreading and melting into something that stung the way an itch strings right before you scratch it, multiplied tenfold. The only way to relieve that stinging sensation was to give into it, more and more. The area bitten remained tender and sensitive in the most erogenous way for a long time after the bite itself. The whole experience was inherently erotic, no matter where the bite was. 

You understood why this was fetishised. You also understood how people happily allowed themselves to be bled dry.  

Astarion continued to grind against you, slowly, his erection evident. This was nothing new and didn't necessarily mean anything - you’ve joked before that any blood he drank went straight to his dick before going anywhere else – which is why you usually did this privately, even when he drank from your wrist.  

However, this time, you really didn't want it to just be casual. You didn't think he did either, the way he was breathing. One of your hands was caught in his hair at the back of his head, the other trailed down to his hips, squeezing, as he grinded into you harder, making you crave more.  

And then it was over and you felt a profound sense of disappointment and loss, as Astarion gave your neck a few final licks and broke away from you, lifting his body from yours. The only contact that remained between you two was your eyes, as he gave you an unwavering look of barely contained lust.  

The aching need between your legs had become unbearable.  

One heartbeat... Two... Three... 

Astarion’s lips crashed into yours.  

Suddenly, without a single word, you found yourselves tearing at each other’s pants in an urgent rush to remove them.  

Curse them, you thought. You would start sleeping in a nightgown, if you managed to find one. Or naked. Or steal Astarion’s shirt. 

You thought you recognised some elvish curses as Astarion snarled, struggling to pull your pants off without lifting his body from you, biting your lip as you managed to twist and free one leg, the other pant leg left danging at your knee. 

All the while, you’d been tearing at the lacing on Astarion’s pants, managing to undo it just enough to slide them low enough to release his pulsing cock. 

You didn’t even bother with your shirts. You had a burning, ravenous hunger, and it had to be sated. Immediately.  

You tugged on Astarion’s cock, impatiently guiding it towards your throbbing pussy. You had no time or eagerness or wish for any teasing or foreplay, only a carnal, animalistic need. You’d barely aligned Astarion’s dick with your entrance when he plunged himself into you, fully, with another swear through gritted teeth.  

Finally, you felt complete.  

There was no rhythm, decency or finesse to what followed, the only way you could describe it was mindless, feral rutting. You dug your fingers into his hips, trying to bring him closer, deeper, moaning as his tongue writhed against yours. He couldn’t be close enough - even had you melded into one you would still want more of him. 

You spread your legs wide, angling your hips so his body hit your exposed clit with every thrust, and bucked into him, desperately. He changed his thrusts to a more rolling motion, rubbing into you.  

“Yes... Like that...” you barely managed. 

There was a commotion, a loud clanking, crashing sound and some yelling outside. 

“Astarion!” you heard Wyll’s voice just outside the tent, shortly after.  

"Fuck,” Astarion growled under his breath. “Three minutes!” he shouted. 

Three minutes? Then again, you didn’t think you were going to last even another minute. 

Astarion covered your mouth with his hand as his hips continued to relentlessly grind you into the floor of his tent. Your whimpers grew more drawn out until your body stilled before breaking into tremors emanating from your hips, as he continued to fuck you. You were holding on to his back for dear life, bringing your legs up to wrap tightly around his hips, moaning into his hand as you came. 

Immediately, he changed his rolling thrusts to something frantic, grabbing your hand and bringing it over your head, and catching your knee at his elbow and bringing it up with his other arm. He buried his face in your neck, moaning, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, until he slammed his hips into you with a final groan, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you. 

“Astarion! This is urgent!” you heard Wyll again.  

“He’s coming!” you yelled, exasperated, before you realised what you’d said.  

Your words were greeted with a momentary silence, then the sound of Karlach laughing somewhat off in the distance.  

Astarion was also laughing into your neck, his shoulders shaking even as he delivered his final thrusts. 

“That was-” he panted between laughter, “the sloppiest... most unimaginative... objectively worst sex I've ever had.” 

“And subjectively..?” you asked, also starting to laugh as you came off the sudden high that had overtaken you.  

“I wouldn’t mind waking up to something like that every day for the rest of my life,” he said, lifting his head and looking at you. 

“That can be arranged,” you purred. 

There was that little frown again, as he cocked an eyebrow at you.  

“We could always die today,” you shrugged. 

“Funny...” he said. “Anyway... Good luck with this giant mess I left between your legs. I better go see what is so godsdamn important.” 

Bonus scene: 

“What do you mean, I’m the only adult here that knows how to manage a needle and thread?! And how do you even rip a bag of holding..?!” 

“Astarion, our fate is in your hands.” 

“No, you can carry your own shit from here on. I’m fine with just my weapons and the clothes on my back.” 

“We need you, Astarion!” 

“At least get rid of all the junk, what do we need a dozen goblin scimitars for, they’re not even worth anything!” 

“Save us, Astarion!” 

“Rotten carrots, rusty tongs... Is that literally just a rock?” 

“Save us, 239-year-old vampire that can sew!”  

Sigh... Astarion observed the torn bag with a resigned look.  

“...Would you mind mending Clive as well, while you’ve got the kit out..? He’s been through hell and back. And looks it.” 

“Yes, Karlach, I’ll fix up your teddy bear too...” 

~~~~~ 

Mark me as yours - fic re the following day

I have a whole series with these two, check it out

AO3

[altacctforastarion]

I think Astarion gets too excited while kissing you, so happy to be with someone that cares for him, that he cares for in return, that he leans in too much, let’s passion overcome him, and accidentally grazes your lip with his fang. I think he pulls away immediately, awkward laughing and apologizing, eyes full of worry. I think if you tell him you’re fine, he worries anyways because you’re important and he hurt you and it doesn’t matter how much blood he takes from you, this blood wasn’t given with consent. I don’t think he licks the blood away, I think he wipes it away instead, and I think he’s resistant to kiss you again, making jokes about how he wouldn’t want to bleed you dry through kisses, deflecting.

I think when you tell him it’s fine he stares at you for too long, considering you. I think when you convince him you’re fine, that it’s just a little cut, nothing compared to the injuries you’ve sustained previously, he’ll agree, but internally this injury is worse because he did it.

I think when he kisses you again it’s gentle, and when he finally tell you how he feels, when he finally admits how guilty it’s made him, and you talk it through with him and comfort him, and then kiss him with passion, trying to prove you aren’t hurt, that you aren’t afraid, he pulls away and it’s not until later that night or the next day that he can handle kisses being more than a peck, or gentle with unopened mouths.

I think he poked at his fangs when no one is around, trying to see how much skin can handle before it breaks so he’s prepared for when it inevitably happens again, so that in the back of his mind he’ll know when to pull away to avoid hurting you again.

I read and write fics where he’s confident, where fang sustained injuries are hot and fun in bed, but I think if he hurt you unintentionally outside of bed, without all the kinks, it would matter, and he’d care a whole hell of a lot.

[obsessedwhyyes]

The Fool

Summary: As you lie, nestled into Astarion’s chest, he considers his feelings - his damned, complicated feelings.

Alternatively, Astarion experiences all 5 stages of grief in 10 minutes.

Rating: T Word Count: 816 Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Content: First person Astarion POV, fluff and angst, rather a lot of angst actually, feelings denial, Astarion needs a hug, cuddling, Astarion's simple plan beginning to fall apart.

Want to hear this fic read aloud with absolutely pristine acting by the incredibly talented CurlyChops on AO3? Have a listen here!

A/N: You know when you’re lying in bed, unable to sleep until you write down that idea that’s managed to worm its way into your brain at unspeakable hours of the night? Here we have a slightly angsty drabble that decided to do just that! After the reception to the Gale first person POV, I wanted to try my hand at an Astarion POV. Hopefully you enjoy!

A fool lies in this tent.

Look at you, nestled into my side, sleeping peacefully against my chest as if a vampire’s embrace is the safest place in all the realms. Utterly ridiculous. So trusting, so… pliant. All according to plan, really. I set the trap - a few choice words here, a few lingering touches there - and you walked right into it. Just like I knew you would.

Just like all the others do.

Well, not quite like all the others. You actually believe there's something redeemable in me, don't you? How deliciously naïve.

Do you even realise what you've fallen for? What I am? A monster, a liar, a parasite. Oh, my dear, the fool you are.

Though I suppose your particular brand of foolishness has its… uses. Your blind faith in my redemption is almost charming.

No. Not charming. It’s pathetic. Pathetically predictable. It can’t be charming. Because, if it is, I’m no better than the fool I mock.

You shift slightly in your sleep, and I resist the urge to recoil. This charade - this playing at romance, at desire - it shouldn’t affect me so. I’m above this. I’ve spent centuries perfecting the art of manipulation, of taking what I need. It was supposed to be easy: charm you, bed you, and secure my safety. A means to an end. But as I lay here, with your warmth pressed against me, my chest begins to tighten. Not in fear or hunger, but in something… complicated.

Anger begins to burn at the back of my throat. Good. Anger is familiar. It’s safer, easier to control.

This is your fault, you know. No, worse - it’s mine. My fault that I have been reduced to this - a creature desperate enough to sell the only scraps of autonomy I have left. You think this closeness is love, don’t you? But it’s not. It’s survival. It has always been survival.

But then again… 

You’re not like the others at all, are you? Those who took without asking, without care. Your touch is… gentle. Always so damnably gentle. You’ve never grabbed, never demanded, never treated me like a thing to be used. With you, it hasn’t all been… bad. No, that’s not right - it’s been tolerable. Almost pleasant at times, really. Your touch doesn’t make my skin crawl; your voice doesn’t grate on my nerves. I tell myself it’s because you’re useful. That’s all this is. 

That’s all it can ever be.

If I were to tell you the truth, what would you do? If I were to push you away, would you stay? If I were to let you in, would you hurt me? These questions gnaw at me, demanding answers I don't have. 

Answers I don't want.

Even now, as you sleep, your fingers rest light as feathers on my chest. It’s maddening. Infuriating. How dare you? How dare you make this difficult? This was supposed to be simple. You were supposed to be simple. 

I could kill you right now, you know. One quick movement, and all these feelings would disappear with you. Never again would you look at me like I'm something precious, something worth saving, like I’m–

“... Astarion,” you mumble drearily in your sleep.

Hells.

I should leave. I should push you away, remind you that I am not something to hold on to.

But I don’t move. 

Instead, I stay. Because the truth, the awful, unbearable truth, is that I don’t want to lose this. The selfish man I am.

A sigh escapes me. 

It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted. 

Gods, what an absolute mess you’ve made of my carefully laid plans. I find myself watching you sleep, counting your breaths, fighting the urge to brush that strand of hair from your face.

When did this happen? When did I start to care whether you lived or died beyond your usefulness to me?

I hate this. I hate that you’ve made me feel anything at all, but more than that, I hate myself for not hating it more. The way you defend me, the way you’ve never once looked at me with disgust or fear… it’s terrifying.

You’re terrifying.

Yet I can't bear to give it away.

Your fingers curl into my shirt in your sleep, and I find myself pulling you closer despite every screaming instinct to push you away. Protecting you, as if I have any right to do so. As if I deserve the way you lean into my touch, trust in my words, believe in my capacity for - dare I say it - goodness. As if I deserve any of this.

The moonlight filtering through the tent catches on your sleeping face, and something inside me breaks. Or perhaps it's finally mending. I'm not sure I know the difference anymore.

A bitter laugh escapes my lips, so soft I’m certain it won’t wake you. How poetic. How utterly absurd.

You, the fool, who dared to fall for me. 

And I, the greater fool for letting you.

Masterlist can be found here!

No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat, @davenswitcher, @silverfangmarks, @sparrowbard, @chonkercatto, @stokzr , @trafalgarussy , @asterordinary , @bite-me-tonight , @transparentkittenheart , @bg3-fanfic-reblogs

[gaysindistress]

Things Gale says

Things they say masterlist

Gale taking a deep breath to steady his nerves the orb before putting on an easy smile and humming, “always a delight to speak with you, what’s on your mind?”

Gale, lost in his own head and exhausted from the day’s events, mumbling the words he’s reading.

Gale who swore he would never complain about the sleeping conditions, barely keeping in a hiss of pain as he stands up and sheepishly saying, “it’s nothing a good stretch can’t fix. I’ll be right as rain soon enough.”

Gale wrapping his arms around your shoulders, his eyes fluttering closed, sighing deeply, whispering, "If I don't get my beauty sleep soon, I may just get a tad malcontent.”

Gale chuckling against your hair when you push away from him, “Rest assured I can manage my mischievous ways for a bit longer but I make no promises.”

Gale carefully watching your reaction anytime he does a little magic, only to turn to you with a small smirk and asking, “breathtaking is it not?”

Gale growing frustrated when you haven’t returned for the day and the orb is becoming overwhelming painful causing him to snap at you.

Gale immediately regretting his harsh tone, his gaze dropping down for a moment and his voice lowering as he says, “my apologies. I should not have taken that tone with you. I see now that you weren’t ignoring me as I had thought.”

Gale being silent after Elminster visits and staring into the fire but remains at your side the entire night.

Gale, upon seeing you laid bare for him for the first time, murmuring in a voice full of adoration and lust, “You are ethereal, my dear.”

Gale groaning when you start to kiss down his chest and leave a trail of red marks in your path, “Weave save me.”

Gale seeking you out after his last conversation with Mystra and gathering you into his arms, quietly saying, “thank you. Thank you for everything that you have done for me. Thank you for loving me.”

Gale assuring you years after everything, “i think our life is quite spectacular my dear. No we are not fighting gods and defeating cults anymore but the quiet life suits us, does it not?”

[reverieblondie]

Could I request headcanons for Gale, Halsin, Wyll, and Astarion with touch starved gn s/o?

I ended up rewriting these a few times but I hope you enjoy reading it! Last Bullet point is NSFW!

Haarlep and Raphael with thouch starved S/O HERE

Halsin 

Halsin would never say you were obvious, but figuring out you were touched starved was relatively easy to tell. Especially with the game you were playing, it was clear after the nth time you asked for healing from him from a mere paper cut on your finger. Though, could anyone really blame you? After spending so much time on the road, with no friendly touch for weeks, then when Halsin came to your aid to heal you from a particularly nasty hit from a goblin, That was the start of it, the aching for him; you had been healed by others before but…nobody did healing like Halsin. Most healers hover their hands over you, but Halisn would hold you, pressing his large but tender hands to your skin, letting his healing magic flow through from him to you; the touch would send tingling shivers through you; some would argue that it was from the magic…But you knew it was from his touch. Halsin was more than willing to help heal you every time; in fact, the consent wanting his touch helped you two connect. Halsin hoped you would confess you wanted him to hold you one day. But you never did. So when you came for healing from your “terribly painful stomach ache,” he knew he would have to make the first move. “I think I know the perfect solution to your problem,” he whispered before he wrapped you in a tight hug; every ache and pain melted away from his touch. It is truly the perfect medicine anytime you feel touch starved.

Every party of Halsin is perfection in your eyes. Oak father really did a fantastic job when it came to making him. However, the one place you’re always grabbing onto the most is his arms. It’s not hard to see why; it’s nearly impossible to keep from clinging to his massive limbs, snuggling into them, running your hands over his thick forearms. Halsin, the sweetheart, doesn’t seem to mind your clinging, even if he is busy carving away. Now that Halsin has noticed your fondness for his arms, he may or may not start to flex them subtly when gesturing or wearing shirts that expose them so you can see every slight rippling of his muscles. Halsin will let you cling to him as long as he can nuzzle into his favorite part of you later tonight…

Now usually you’re the needy one in the relationship, pleading for hugs and beaming every time you get wrapped up in Halsins arms. Today has been different, however. It started when you woke up with Halsins hands creasing your sides and snuggling into your neck, of course you melted at the touch, thoroughly relishing in the attention, but it didn’t end there. Usually, Halsin would walk through the woods for some meditation and to gather herbs and materials for you two, but today, he didn’t leave your side. Of course, you loved it, but a part of you was starting to get worried. When you brought it up, he grabbed your hands and held them to his chest, “I just find myself wanting to be near you, my heart.” You squeeze his large hands back, “Well, let me help you, my love.” rising to your tiptoes, you begin to pepper kisses all over Halsins face. He grabs your waist and lifts you to meet his lips with yours quickly; the kiss only makes him needier. 

He loves every part of you, from your hair to your adorable toes. But his hands consistently linger on your curves. On those days when you are feeling extra needy. Halsin is more than willing to help…In some inventive ways. The contrast is maddening… The smooth honey slips on top of your heated skin, and then Halsins rough tongue licks up the sticky liquid off your stomach. His hands guide your back to an arch as he keeps his hazel eyes on your moaning face. Sucking and licking as his hands continue to run over your squirming body. Halsin doesn’t know what is sweeter, the honey or you; he will spend all night trying to figure it out. 

Zevlor

Zevlor has been around for a while but was never too familiar with the term ‘Touched starved.’ Sure, he had heard it back in his commander days from soldiers whispering about needing attention of the flesh but never truly gave it too much thought…until. The idea came to him when he noticed a particular trait of yours. You had no special awareness when it came to him. Consistently, you were leaning into him quite closely, and when you two walked around during perimeter checks, you would often bump into him or brush your hand against his. Of course, you would apologize for your clumsiness, but deep down, you knew what was happening…Your body was burning for him, his warmth, his touch, and it was seeking it out in any way possible. It didn’t click so quickly for Zevlor until he saw you sparing, and there was no inclination of any clumsiness in your movements; even with others, he never saw you bump or run into anything; your movements were precise and calculated…and that’s when he figured it out you were touching him purposely. Zevlors first thought was, why? Then his second was how can he tell you to only ask him for his touch. Finally, one day, as you two were doing your usual perimeter check, you slowly inched closer and closer to him, seeking the slight relief of his touch. Still, as you went to bump into him for only a moment, you found the ex-hellrider wrapped his arms quickly around you keeping you to his warm chest. Eyes wide, you go to apologize, but Zevlor is quick to quiet your worries, “If you need my warmth…please don’t hesitate to ask me…” After that day, you got a hug from him every chance you could…

Zevlor enjoys the sweet intimacy of your relationship. At first, he was not used to someone wanting to hold him so closely and shower him with affection, but slowly, he is getting used to it and enjoying it immensely. Though, you still find ways to surprise him…For example, when you start paying particular attention to his cheeks and horns, you can’t stop wanting to hold his face so tenderly and whisper soft praises to him. “I’ve never seen beauty like yours, Zevy…” he feels his heart melt at every whisper and every gentle touch to his skin. Then, if you happen to caress the base of his horns? Well…you have never heard such a deep pur.  

 It had been the first day in a long while that you and Zevlor spent most of the day apart. He had promised to speak to some recruits in the city, sharing his wisdom, and you had opted to stay at home. You were expecting him to come home at any minute, so you were working hard to prepare a surprise dinner for him. You missed him being home; usually, you would spend the day working in your small garden together and setting out laundry on the line together. It was lonely without him, so you planned to show him how much you missed him. As you were finishing your stew, you felt arms snaking around your waist. You gasped before his familiar voice eased you, “Be still, my dear, it’s only me…” Your body immediately relaxes as you turn to hug him back. “How was your trip?” Zevlor only hums as he buries his head into your neck. “I missed you…the road was lonely without you by my side…” you rub your hands up and down his arms as they hug you. Then you feel one of his arms part from you and hear the stove turn off; before you can ask anything else, you’re lifted and carried away toward your shared room. “Zev! What- What about Dinner?” “It can wait…I need to be close to you, just for a while…” The stew wasn’t eaten until much later… 

“So beautiful…” his breath is warm as he whispers the complement into your neck. Zevlor’s lips caress your tender skin as he moves to your ear. You cling to his broad shoulders tighten, and your legs squeeze his textured hips. “You’re taking me so well. I’m proud of you.” The moan is involuntary as you feel him push deeper, his lips catching and nipping on your ear, his sharp teeth threatening to pierce, but his tongue soothing you so softly. Moving from your ear, you almost let out a whine before he blows a teasing breath on your neck, causing you to squirm and keen at the tickleing sensation. Zevlor’s fiery eyes look down at you, and that soft smile never fails to melt your core. He leans in, lips hovering over yours, his hands softly gliding down your waist, “I love you…” The vow is then sealed with a kiss. 

Wyll

Wyll hadn’t thought of you as touched starved until you had to tell him flat-out. To his credit, you didn’t make it easy for him to figure out. When Wyll thinks of the term touched starved, he thinks of someone like him. Someone always willing to give out a hug or a friendly pat on the back; if you’re touched starved and in the proximity of Wyll, you were not touched starved for long. Hells, Wyll would risk the burns of hugging Karlach if she so requested. You, on the other hand, would never seem to be receptive to his friendly gestures, having grown up in a home with little affection and living on the brutal road for a while with a pleasant touch would always be a shock to your system. Especially from Wyll, it was like lightning shooting through your body with a new surge of energy you didn’t know what to do with, so you would tense up. After feeling you clamp up, Wyll simply thought you didn’t like to be touched, so ever the gentleman, he stopped. But that only made you begin to grave him…Finally, after days of seeing him touch and hug your other friends, you felt yourself going to pop. In a spur of the moment, you walked into his tent, staring at his confused features; timidness threatened to take you over, so with shaking limbs, you held your arms open with a shaky beg of “Please…” Wyll’s smile would grow so wide as he embraced you. “I thought you didn’t like to be touched?” “I…I like it when you do it…I crave your embrace…” Wyll will never make you ask please for a hug again…but other things, he might…    

You couldn’t explain exactly why you love it so much, but you find you’re running your hands up and down Wylls strong back every time you get the chance. Maybe it was from seeing all its glory when he returned from the river or in the early mornings when he woke up for training. There’s just something about his broad shoulders that lean down to his narrow waist that makes your hands twitch to touch him. Wyll, of course, isn’t oblivious to how you take him in; that might be why he walks around without a shirt more often. His favorite part about liking his back is when you rest your head between his shoulder blades and hold onto him tightly. It never fails to put a smile on both your faces.  

Between the two of you, you’re the one who is always slow to wake. On a typical day, you usually wake up to an empty left side of the bed, but this morning is different. You wake up to your body being held by what looks like a sleeping Wyll. Your first instinct is to worry and check him for a fever, but you find that he feels normal, and when he wakes, he greets you with a lazy smirk. “Are you okay, Wyll? You’re usually up by now?” Wyll hums softly as his eyes lazily roam over your form, “I woke up earlier but found that I couldn’t part from you…” His sweet words always make you blush, and you go to say you're sorry out of habit, but you’re silenced by him gently stroking your cheek. “Well, How about I make breakfast for us? We could eat together.” As you rise, you are quickly grabbed and trapped within his arms, his lips attacking your neck in a plethora of kisses, making you giggle. “You’re not going anywhere…I am not done with you yet…”   

It’s always so slow, his hands sliding up and down your spread legs while your sex grows more and more aroused. One part of you wants to beg him to stop teasing you, but you both know that the loving pass of his hands on your skin is what you crave. Wyll keeps his eyes on yours as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The attention he gives you makes your mind hazy and your sex quiver in a way that only he causes. A moment of weakness causes you to moan his name. He will look down at your flushed face and smile against your skin before finally sliding his tongue on the spot you need him the most. 

Rolan

Rolan is very familiar with the term being touched starved, and from being accused of it by Cal and Lia relentlessly, he was aware of the traits. Not that he thought he ever showed these. Then came you, and it was the end of him being touched starved. Rolan, at first, didn’t understand why every time you were near, your hand would absentmindedly rub in between his shoulder blades or how when you would go out to the tavern, you would sit so close to him, and it wasn’t as if you were unaware of this. No, from how you would look at his curious gaze with a smirk and a sparkle in your eyes, he knew you were messing with him. Though despite this…you two kept hanging out. If anyone would ask you if you longed for touch, you would say you only wanted Rolans and you had no shame about it; you just wished one day he would indicate the touch for once. Finally, one night, Rolan invited you to the tower to do some reading, something you could do at home, but you wouldn’t dream of passing up a moment to be around him. You two had found yourselves on the chaste, sitting very closely, exchanging blushing looks over the edges of your books, and with every passing page, you two would find yourselves inching closer and closer. Then, as your thighs are pressed together, you feel a warmth wrapping around your ankle. Looking down, you see his tail wrapped around you loosely, unsurely. Rolan had finally taken the initiative, and you were beaming. “If it bothers you, I can-” But before he could finish his sentence, you wrapped his arm around you as you curled into him more. You could hear the rapid rushing of his heart, and you could feel how it matched your own. “It doesn’t bother me; I’ve just been wondering what’s been taking you so long…” The teasing only rewards you with a tighter hold. 

You find every part of Rolan to be utterly perfect, from his beautiful horns to his freckled cheeks to his toes. But the one part of him you constantly find yourself playing with is his tail, swaying and twitching like it has a mind of its own. You love to sneak behind him and run your fingers over the ridged base. The shiver and low growl he gives out every time makes you want to tease and touch him more, your hands becoming clammy for it. Today, you’re reading and mindlessly playing with the sharp tip till, finally, he’s curling the tail around your forearm and pulling you closer for a hungry kiss. He says he is being driven mad by your relentless teasing; you can only smile back before whispering, “Then you shouldn’t keep rewarding me…” 

Rolan tries not to let his neediness get the better of him…but some days, he can’t resist your pull on him. Every time he saw you today, his hands roamed over every curve, his nose in the crook of your neck, and he muttered things you couldn’t catch. The attention was well received as you loved his every touch, but when you parted from him to wash up for the night, the look on his face was utter devastation. “I will be quick, then all night I am yours.” Rolan tsked as he let you go, sitting down in his chair where he would wait for your return. You tried your best to hurry into the bath but were not quick enough. As you wet your hair to be ready for washing, you heard the door open and were greeted by the magnificent sight of Rolan in a small cloth wrapped around his waist. He motions for you to make room. He removes his towel and joins you in the bath. You are happy but utterly confused, and Rolan is quick to defend his actions as he gathers soap into his palm, “You took too long, so now I am here to help; now turn so I can wash your hair.” Without any protest, you turn and relish in the feeling of his clawed hands, washing and lathering the soap in your hair, taking the time to scratch your scalp as he cleans you gently. Maybe you should have him wash your hair every time? If you asked, Rolan would be happy, too.  

It started as a pleasant surprise; while you two were working at Sundries, his tail kept brushing against your butt, and when you two would be out of view from prying eyes, his hand would gently caress your ass. These are simple hints of his wants; you are always eager for his touch. Now here you are, pressed against the back wall with Rolan's needy hands grabbing tight handfuls of your butt. Pants are quickly discarded, and he gives you a quick slap to the soft exposed flesh for being such a naughty distraction. You keen and arch, grinding your ass against his burning erection. A deep moan when his nails dig into your flesh as he starts to rut into you deeply. Panting breaths, intertwined limbs, sweaty bodies desperately rocking against each other. It’s the night you learned that the Great Master Rolan is an ass man.  

Gale 

You never thought of yourself as touched starved; sure, you had points when you thought of being held or holding someone, but it was never something you would say you were starving for; well, that was until Gale. It was an accident when it happened; you two had offered to go to the morning market to gather supplies for dinner. The morning market was incredibly crowded, and you two kept getting separated. Gale, always the quick thinker, came up with the best solution. As he walked in front of you like a shield, he grabbed your hand and led you through. The gesture immediately stirred something within you, and as you walked hand in hand, looking at the back of him, you found yourself tightening your grip. During the rest of your time at the market, you two held each other’s hands. It wasn’t until you two returned to camp that you realized you held hands the whole way back. After that day, you reached out for his hand more often. Gale, of course, didn’t seem to mind. He liked the extra company, but getting you to let go so he could cut vegetables was challenging. After a while, you will find yourself craving more touches from Gale. So late one night, you crawled into his tent; when you woke him, he was initially surprised, asking you what you needed. “I…I think I’m touched starved…could…you hold me for a bit?” Gale’s heart nearly burst out of his chest, but he eagerly invites you into his arms, delighted to share in cuddles and maybe a few kisses.    

It should be no surprise your favorite place to touch Gale is his hands. They are perfectly soft and fit perfectly within yours. You find that your hands are interlocked together if you’re by him. Gale finds your need to hold him in some way lovely and ultimately endearing. Gale’s favorite times when you hold his hands is when you are fast asleep curled up with him in his bedroll, your hands interlaced with his. He doesn’t dare move them because he knows you will only start seeking them again in your sleep.   

You’re used to holding Gale’s hand, but on days he’s feeling needy, you find that his hands tend to roam. Today had been one of those days; his hands had started lazily, moving up and down your arms, gently grazing you all morning so tenderly. By the afternoon, his hands had found their way to run up and down your back, moving so slowly to send shivers through your body successfully. Then, in the Evening, they moved to trace your sides as his lips caressed the sensitive skin of your neck. Finally, you asked if he was well, his lips smiling against your skin. “Perfectly fine…just being needy for you…does it bother you?” you feel your skin flush, and your lips curl to an excited smile. “No, I like the attention from you…” Gale is always ready to shower you with attention; you just need to ask…   

The man didn’t lie when he told you he had a practiced tongue, and tonight, you are finding that out firsthand. You felt needy when you crawled into his tent; it was late, and he was surprisingly awake. At first, it was innocent, simple hand holding a kiss or two like other nights before to satisfy your need, but tonight, you’re finding your aching for more, and Gale knows this. All you need to do is ask…Your hands grip tightly to the blankets as his tongue works against you. Gales focuses as his hands grip your thighs, and he sucks and licks more. He’s desperate to taste your release all over his tongue, and with him always being so good to you, who are you to deny him? 

Astarion

With all he had been through, the feeling of being touched had become unstimulating. Astartion had felt every kind of touch possible. Well, at least that’s what he thought, until you. The energy between you two had been electric from the first moment; you were brilliant, and his usual charms didn’t make you bend like they did others. In fact, for all his teasing, you would give back your own. It was like a game between you two, and it only made you crave each other more. Then it hit its peak…You were admittedly getting lost in his words as he spoke to you, but it was different; it was genuine, and you had never felt so close to others. So when you gently brushed back his hair as he talked, you both found yourself looking at each other in surprise. Your weakness shocked you, and Astarion was surprised by someone touching him so gently, as if he were made of glass. Going to take back your hand, it’s quickly caught by his, and gentle lips pressing to your palm sets your skin ablaze. The kiss was as soft as your touch, but Astarion can never pass up an opportunity… “Couldn’t help yourself anymore, hm?” You would accept defeat this once…

Astarion has never been a fan of cuddling…well, not until he met you. And what did you do to make him change his mind on the slow and intimate activity? Astarion loves the way your fingers brush slowly and carefully through his hair. He finds he has gradually become needy for that soft, gentle touch. On the other hand, you love the feeling of his soft locks slipping through your fingers; actually, there are many things you can adore about Astarion; you find the soft touch of brushing through his hair always seems to relax you. You could spend all night with him in your arms like this…and you do. 

You didn’t know if it was your imagination, but Astarion seemed grumpy today. You had tried to joke around with him and even participate in some teasing and flirting, but he wasn’t receptive. Thinking it best to just drop it, you left him alone for the rest of the day, going about your usual task. Then Evening rolled around; you were getting ready for bed when you heard a throat clearing outside your tent. Poking your head out, you saw Astarion looking…bashful? “Do you mind…if I slept here…with you…I’ve…been feeling off…” One part of you wanted him to explain; he had ignored you, and now he wants to sleep in your tent with you? And wait, elves don’t sleep? But something about the look in his red eyes…he seemed…lonely…Gently, you reach your hand out to grab the sleeve of his shirt and pull him in softly. The rest of the night was spent with you sleeping with your head in his lap as he read to your sleeping form. Being around you made him feel so much better; it was as he thought…he was starting to rely on you, and for once, the thought of depending on another didn’t scare him. 

Sometimes, you can not decide who is needer between the two of you. Of course, you two tease each other about it, but Astarion is always the better tease. You’re rolling your eyes in both pleasure and annoyance as he moves his tongue across your chest, your nipples peaked and sensitive to every feathery touch. You try to keep your moans in, but it’s useless; “You make such pretty sounds, darling, keep it up.” His cold hands move between caressing your chest and your skin to find your sensitive nipples. Red eyes look up at you, filled with mischief. Is he satisfied with just a taste? Or will he bite…

[celestialowlbear]

🌿 ♡ Halsin NSFW Headcanon Drabble ♡ 🌿

Pairing: Halsin x Reader (GN)

WC: ~600

Warnings: 18+, NSFW. Smut. Mentions of marking, possessiveness, some fluffiness. Reader/Tav not described besides having soft skin.

A/N: I’ve been having major Halsin thots and had to get them on a page (hence the bulleted list). Enjoy, my fellow big Druid lovers. 😊

You are like nothing else he has ever experienced in his long life. 

He craves you, an insatiable hunger that burns his body from the inside out, and only you can tame that raging fire within him.

Your lips, your gentle touch, your sounds…

You are the rising sun, the soft glow of the moon, the peaceful breeze on a summer’s day, and life at the onset of spring.

Sometimes he wondered if he was a dead man walking, a specter of some sort, because being with you was heaven, or what he imagined it to be.

Halsin has to continuously control himself around you, at least while others are around.

When the camp was quiet and he had you all to himself, was when he could absolutely and utterly devour you, show you just how much he longs for you.

You let him lose control, wanting it, craving it yourself. 

You want to feel his fingers dig into your thighs, hear his louder and louder moans as you take more and more of him so, so willingly. 

When you are very much warmed up by his tongue and fingers, he finally fills you, sinking himself into you inch by inch, careful to never harm you and checking that it was never too much.

Halsin loves praising you, breathlessly comparing you to everything extraordinary and exquisite in nature and beyond.

His honeyed words spur you both on as his pace increases, the head of his cock caressing that spot so deep inside you it leaves you boneless and seeing galaxies.

You know he still holds back, the bear desperate to claw its way out, the primal urge raging under his skin as he pounds into you.

Halsin always wants your pleasure before his, making sure to get multiple orgasms out of you before he finishes. 

The way your body reacts, the way his name from your lips transforms from breathy whimpers to guttural moans of pure ecstasy is seared into his memories until the end of time, and that will still never be enough.

When you are finally spent, flushed and sweaty and thoroughly loved, is when Halsin takes what is his.

He loves flipping you on your stomach, gripping your thighs and pulling you up toward him, sinking into you with one thrust.

He mounts you, caging you in with his body, his bulging forearms on either side of your head, his lips at your ear, his broad chest pressing to your back.

You love it, feeling protected by him, encapsulated by everything that was Halsin.

The man, the bear, your lover, your mate. 

He is always able to get deeper in this angle, his fingers digging into the grass and dirt beneath you, his hot, growling breath on your neck as he finally loses his control.

Your soft body beneath him, the trust you have in him, the love in your eyes even as he fucks you relentlessly like a beast in heat, always brings him to his end, intense and blinding and all-consuming.

When you bask in the afterglow, Halsin carefully maneuvers you, checking you for any wounds he may have accidentally inflicted in the height of passion.

There’s usually a bruise or bite-mark or two, and you have to convince him it’s fine. 

You can tell he always feels bad after losing a bit of control, but part of him loves the fact that he’s able to see the marks on your body, reminding you and anyone else that you were his.

Then you lay in the grass, gazing up at the stars, your head on his chest.

He loves telling you stories about the constellations, and his deep timbre always lulls you into a peaceful sleep, with him following soon after, content in one another’s embrace.

-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-

[devnmon]

solace in succor

spawn astarion x reader

summary: Your hormones are making your body extra sensitive, but Astarion offers to help remedy that.

warnings: boob play, thigh riding, pre-menstruation pain mentioned

wc: 3.5k

a/n: was gonna post this earlier but i got caught up with my journal and getting dressed to go out but here have this fic that i put my whole writeussy into xo

Armor was never meant to be comfortable. But the way your chest presses against it in agony— it wasn’t meant to hurt, was it? 

My cycle… you thought. Has to be.

Every inhale and exhale pressed the plush of your chest to your armor plate. With each breath, the aching never seemed to cease. They continued to rub against the textured metal to no end. It was both painful and stimulating in more ways than one— but most of all, distracting. 

A tantalizingly long day only becomes longer whilst you remain uncomfortable in the metal coverings. But once it came to an end, you were quickest to head back to camp before anyone else. 

Everything became overstimulating- the sweat on your back, the tightened leathers you adorned, even the bottoms of your feet were inflamed. Acutely intensifying, you found yourself keeled over, grasping at your pelvis where a harsh cramping began. 

Before you could even catch a moment to relieve yourself of it, the scent of rosemary fluttered around your senses. 

“Darling, are you alright?” 

Astarion appeared behind you, closing the flap of his tent over, always keeping a keen eye for noticing when you weren’t alright. You’d run ahead of the others back to his tent, enough of a sign for him to be concerned. 

You groaned in pain, “Think I’m quite the opposite, actually.”

Turning to him with a pained smile, you grasped onto the nearby table to catch your balance. The exhaustion of your day out was crashing over you much like waves at high tide. 

His quick but quiet footsteps brought him right to your side, catching the small of your back and your waist with his hands. 

“Here, take a seat. I’m sure you’re exhausted. We’ve all had a long day.” 

“Wait. Could you— would you…. ugh. C-Can you help me out of these garments?” 

Tugging at the cloth around your neck, it became clear to your companion how highly unpleasant you seemed to be. What had caused it he wasn’t sure, but he’d do anything in his power to keep it from continuing. 

“Of course. Anything for you, my love. Especially if you’re not feeling the best.“

Astarion began with undoing the buckles on your leg plates, throwing them to the side with a clanking noise. Damn if the armor dented, he’d throw himself into the sun before letting you suffer a moment longer. Not before long, he’d done away with the rest of your protective gear. 

“Now, I hope you’re not wearing anything that fits too tight or not well enough…” he began to reprimand.

“No… no, it���s just— I think I’m about to go on my cycle. My breasts ache something awful… And the cramps- ugh, gods above. This always happens right before it starts and I’m left sensitive all over.” You complained. 

Astarion untied your corset quickly with his lithe fingers, noting the little sounds you made when he pressed into your skin. 

“About to? So you’re not on it yet?” Brows upturned and eyes soft, your cheeky vampire pouted at the knowledge that your monthly cycle hadn’t arrived. 

You scoffed, “Don’t look so sad, Astarion. I know exactly how you get about my menstruation. Like a cat in heat, and you’re not even the one who has to bleed for days.” 

Eyes rolling playfully, you recalled the times he’d indulged on your blood from a different source rather than your neck. 

“What can I say? You’re delicious.” His fingertips tip your chin upwards to meet his lips, pressing a quick peck to them. 

“Perverted vampire.” 

“That’s me, darling.” he jested, smirking. 

Soon as your chest plate had fallen from your shoulders, the undergarment propping your breasts up was quick to follow, dropping to the ground without even having to remove your shirt. 

To Astarion’s surprise, you were quite effective with tossing it to the side. Presented immediately to his eyes was the main reason your chest began aching. 

Now he knew the real reason you’d needed his help. 

Two hardened peaks announced themselves through the fabric of your shirt, standing prominent. It wasn’t his fault his eyes faltered downwards— well, maybe a little of it was. Though he’d been shocked at how hard they were, it must have been such a nuisance. 

A sigh of relief from your lips proved to him that he was right- your aching, sensitive body didn’t just pertain to your back and the bottoms of your feet. No, this was something else entirely.

“Oh, now I clearly see where the problem resides.” 

You whined, “I told you they ached. What else did you expect?” 

“Well, nothing surprises me anymore when it comes to you. Here, let’s get you off your feet. Come, sit.” 

Astarion aided you in lowering you to the ground to rest against his chest, his body a pillow behind you. Brows furrowing amongst your sharp breaths in and out as you sit. Your cheeks warmed from his soft gestures, the kind of doting vampire he was when comforting you. It came as easy as breathing to him. 

Finally being off your feet was glorious in itself, but resting against him calmed you a bit more. 

Hearing the groans of pain as you sat made Astarion’s heart swell, for how much more pain could you take on this journey? Who knows how many times you’ve been in this much discomfort without him by your side to aid you. 

“Can I do anything to help? Maybe a massage?” Your star inquired, pressing his lips to your cheek softly. 

A warmth in your chest began to spark, not only in your chest from his desire to rid you of this pain, but between your legs when reminded of how the sensitivity of your body tended to travel wherever it pleased. 

“O-Okay… just be gentle.” You replied, breath shuddering. 

“I wouldn’t touch you any other way.” He whispered in your ear, words warm against it. 

Another kiss pressed to your skin. 

The heat in your chest traveled to your cheeks, pinking them up much too hot for your liking. 

“I can’t imagine what this must do to you.” Astarion’s hands pressed into your waist, then ran up over the hardened buds. Each finger took an agonizingly slow time grazing over them through your shirt. An uncontrollable whimper escaped your lips, relishing in all he was doing to you. 

With every pass, your breath grew heavier, trying to relax under his touch.

“Astarion…” 

He chuckles in that low tone again, wasn’t he aware of what he was doing to you? 

You couldn’t tell if it was more mischief than anything else. But it was more than orgasmic. 

“Let’s get this off you.” He purrs, fingertips catching a sliver of your skin once his hands undo each button and push the cloth off your shoulders. The cool air does nothing but prick your skin with goosebumps, quite a delectable sight from Astarion’s point of view. 

He could hear every hitch of your breath, every time your heart’s pace picked up, all because of him. 

“Better, my love?” 

“Hmmh… still hurts a lot.” 

Your head’s thrown back on his shoulder right as his hands return to working their magic. But he doesn’t simply run his fingers over them this time, no. Astarion takes his palms and presses against the plush of your breasts in full. 

Not only does the weight of your chest throb in your sensitivity when they’re grabbed, but your nipples never cease their constant hardness. His grip on them is soft, filling out the largeness of his palms quite perfectly. 

With a steadiness, he simply holds your breasts, coolness spreading over them a considerable amount. Splayed out over the plush skin, he does nothing but keep them in place for a moment. 

Another mewl escapes you, chest rising and falling under his contact. Even just his touch held the most heart thumping pace in your chest. The heat covering your insides never faltered, especially not against the stark difference of his hands. 

Out of nowhere, he kneads them in one fluid motion, tempting your patience and his own to relax you. 

Astarion notices the shudder of pleasure that runs through you, smirking to himself. 

Not only does he continue with the softened touch he’s promised, his lips begin ghosting kisses over your neck. That same area his fangs frequented. Astarion consistently attempted to not leave bruising on your precious skin— he couldn’t bear it. But the peppering of his kisses was more than a spark to set your body aflame. It was a blazing bonfire with the way he did so. 

His kneading motions are as calculated as a baker’s with dough, a mild one given by his strong fingers. 

“Oh, I bet this feels nice, hm? To be free of the suffocating layers you adorn all day long. Our fearless leader…” You could hear the taunt in his voice, getting a bit too confident from the shudders in your breath and perfect little sounds you omitted. But he craved more, to hear how your body sang for him. Every moment went to his head, dizzying with desire. 

There were no words to accompany his questions with a response. Only another filthy sound inched from you he desired to take a mile from. 

Thus, his digits close around each of your nipples, selfishly boosting his ego with every morsel of pleasure he delivers.

Astarion’s fully aware of what he’s doing to you, the touches he’s applying to your oh so sensitive chest calculated to his liking. 

Your back arches against his chest, another shuddered breath escaping you while your head falls to his shoulder. His fingers move to pinch your hardened buds in such a way to make every inch of you throb. Not too hard, but enough pressure for your heat to throb overwhelmingly. 

“That feel good, hm?” 

His low purr in your ear only makes matters worse. 

“Yes, gods… Be gentle, Starion. Mmmmh…” 

“When I’m pulling such beautiful sounds from you? Oh, darling. I can’t help it.” 

His cold hands do nothing to help your hardened peaks calm, even with the raging fire building inside you. It’s debilitating, how much you want to rut against him. Though, your desperate palms just grip his thighs, grounding you back to your physical form. 

Astarion’s cold hands can sense how much heat emanates from you— especially when your skin is the hottest he’s ever known before. 

Eyes closed in bliss, he takes the opportunity to press the softest kisses into your exposed neck, attempting to keep cool when he attunes to how fast your heart is pumping. More like music to his ears, taking initiative to drag his cool lips over the areas to send you whining again. 

He’s perceptive enough to notice the shifting of your hips below him, eager to move against anything. One hand of his leaves your breast, sliding down your stomach into what are now a pair of very soiled undergarments. When his finger slips so easily through your folds to find how soaked you are, it’s the easiest cue of a smirk curling itself across his lips. 

“Does your cycle always leave you like this, darling?” 

One more swipe to collect your arousal on his fingers before he pulls them out of your pants, going nowhere near where you really need him. 

A whimper leaves your lips, “Never been this bad before, maybe it’s the stress.” 

Your chest heaves under his touch with every breath you take. Astarion has been continuously soft and constant with his kneading, the sound of his breathing while pressed against him only made your body crave more. 

“That could be the issue… far too much worrying for your pretty little head. What should we do about that, hm?” 

You whimper again under his touch, rutting against nothing between his legs. 

The laces of your pants come undone thanks to his agile fingers, the wisp of his skin against yours overwhelming compared to the heat of your body. He grips your waist, turning you to face him and sit on his thigh.

His cheeks flush upon your almost fully naked figure before him, beads of sweat visible down your torso in the lantern light. The vampire’s never gotten used to seeing his lover soaked in bliss because of him. 

Eyes finally catching on the wet patch of your underwear, his tongue darts out over his lips as the rubies dilate at the sight. 

“You’re quite the sight like this, poor baby.” 

Astarion’s cool palms run up and down your sides, earning him more of your little shakes and whimpers. Your vampire’s red eyes shimmer with adoration as he looks upon you, understanding the discomfort in your expression. 

Fingertips slink down your torso, right above the band of your underwear. He’s fully aware you’d rather have his hand in your pants than go a moment longer without. Instead of digging his slender fingers into your soaked heat, his thumb drops down to the wet spot and rubs lightly. Your hips stutter again, only this time atop his thigh to bring you the most rewarding friction against your throbbing clit. 

There were no words for the amount of pleasure coursing through your veins from one simple movement. Maybe it was the fact that you had Astarion as a partner that did it; he could bring you to your knees with a single look. Perhaps it was the surge of hormones whispering to put his cock in you— to fill you up until your satisfaction was reached. 

But the only thing you could get out was his name, pleadingly asking for more. It would have to wait until you had the energy and your cycle wasn’t on the brink of arrival. 

Although Astarion never has a problem with a messier kind of sex. Especially not one that can feed him as well as satisfy his desire to please you. 

“C-Can I… oh, gods. Please can I—“ 

“Ride my thigh? I’d love nothing more, my pretty girl. Let’s get these out of the way. hm?”

You’re expecting him to cut your remaining undergarment off with a knife for being in the way, especially when you were in this state. Instead, two of his fingers pull the soaked part of the cloth to the side, putting your swollen cunt on display for him. 

“There she is, so pretty. Of course you’ve soaked through these already.”

“Gonna ruin your pants, Star.“ you replied through another gasp, your sensitive clit getting exposed to the coolness surrounding your vampire. 

“Nothing a little spell can’t fix tomorrow morning.” He smiles, beaming at you with that sweet face. He’d always accept cleaning up after no matter what it was— whether that be a mess of blood after battle or the arousal he’d orchestrated from you. 

“But, you…” you pout, before grasping at the imprint of his length under said pants.

“Ah ah, this isn’t about me, darling.” he replies, moving your hand away, “Making sure you feel alright is more important.” 

Though his cock twitching under your grasp isn’t lost on either of you, it’s much more satisfactory to him seeing you like this. Your eyelids flutter with affection looking down upon him, a twinkle in his eyes as he gazes back. 

“Gods, I don’t deserve you.” Your desperate mouth collides with his, tasting sweetness across your tongue. 

Whilst doing so, his hands encourage you to move your hips above him once more. His hands guide you, beginning to slowly spread yourself open on his thigh. 

“You do, so I can do things like this for you. It’s what you deserve.” 

His lips leave one more chaste kiss on yours before tucking his bottom lip between his teeth to watch you rut against him. Half-lidded and glowing red, his eyes lock onto you from below. Once your rhythm steadies, that cold touch of his returns to your chest, still attentive and filled with arousal. 

Astarion’s fingers pinch your nipples a bit tighter than they had before, adoring how they hardened further when blessed by the temperature of his hands. 

His lips land in the valley between them, caressing the sensitive skin with his tongue before placing it over one of the hardened buds. 

“Hah… mmh—“ 

He chuckles, his sounds vibrating through you and heightening the sensitivity of your chest and your pleasure. 

From his seated position, it’s clear he’s enjoying the view, pressing his thigh upwards into your wetness while he sucks and nips at your breasts. He only relents to speak another praise. 

“That’s it, you’re doing so well, my sweet.” 

Each little sound you made upon his tongue swirling around your nipple or the sucking of his lips to leave a mark on your breast only intensified. 

“Please, need you inside me…” you attempt to grasp his erection again, but he’s quick to pull your hand away the same as before. 

“Tsk. No, darling, he taunts, “You’re going to come for me without having touched that pretty little clit.” 

You pout, an obvious remark you’ve picked up from your companion; lips jutted outwards, shoulders sunken, and big wet eyes. 

“Why must you torture me so?” 

“Because, my love… your pleasure is mine. Besides, I can smell it on you. The blood… it’s just aching to come out. I’d say around dawn tomorrow, if even that.” He purrs, playing with your tits in his hands again. 

Something about the coldness of his fingers pinching and massaging almost sends you over the edge. Your hips stutter, the friction of each time you move has you pulling him in by the nape of his neck. 

You want him close when you finally come, closer than ever. If he won’t grant you that by being inside you, then the proximity of your lips on his would have to do. Soon as you kiss him, he can taste the arousal on your tongue; it infects him quicker than light, and the increased beating of your heart fills his ears harmoniously. 

Astarion’s hands grip your waist again, even tighter than before to move you down onto him in a slower motion. 

“Agh, Ast..ahh-rion…” You attempt to speak with a gasp, but the sensations coursing through you are much too overwhelming to form actual words. 

The pitch of your voice and strung together sounds was the indication you were teetering on the edge of orgasm. Lips trailed upwards from your chest, his little groans of satisfaction with each press caused your eyes to close in bliss. 

“You’re so close, I know. I can hear your heart racing. Want to come for me, hm?”

You nod desperately, attempting to speed up your movements again. His grip loosens so you can rut freely, knowing the height of your orgasm is about to come crashing down. 

“My perfect darling. There, just let it all go. Mmm, so good. So perfect.” Astarion’s lips continue their assault on your neck, flicking his tongue over your pulse point as the sounds you make become more high pitched and breathless. 

It’s not a moment later before your orgasm washes over you, sending your hips uncontrollably moving against his thigh. Your clit throbs as you gush on top of him, losing all upper body strength you once had and falling into his arms. It’s as if you hadn’t been touched in centuries, the way your orgasm courses through every inch of your body. 

The goosebumps on your skin slick with sweat becomes more intense as the heat flooding you calms for the first time all day. It’s relief you’re filled with, that the pain has ceased, thanks to the quite literal handiwork of your companion. 

Your forehead rests on his shoulder, cold hands raking up and down your back for comfort. 

“Thank you,” you breathe, “I love you more than anything, Astarion.”

“You are my everything. I love you, too. Feeling any better?” His fingers sweep strands of hair out of your face, noticing how flushed they’ve become from your recent activities. 

Those words give you enough strength to raise your head and look at him. 

“Mhm. Much…” you glance downwards again, “Will you let me take care of you now?”

“How sweet. Perhaps I’d be wrong to not indulge you after our long day but… how does a warm bath sound? Before we get all sweaty again, I’d like to wash the day off us.”

“You had me at warm bath.” you chuckle, pecking him on the lips. 

“Let’s go then, before anyone else gets there first.” 

As much as you want the clothes you’ve torn off to stay on the ground where they lay, you throw them back on just to make it to the calming bath Astarion’s promised you. 

Safe to say your vampire doted on your body the same as before, once you both relaxed into the clean water. More kisses and soothing touches were shared as the sweat from the long day’s activities was shed. You found yourself tucked into his arms once again as the day concluded for good.

want to read more? consult my masterlist <3

[dutifullylazybread]

I'm thinking about how insulted Gale gets when you refer to Tara as a cat.

Now I'm headcanoning that he wasn't referring to Tara in that moment--I'm starting to wonder if he has a cat AND a tressym familiar.

Give 👏 Gale 👏 cats. 👏

Sunning cats.

Lounging cats.

Cats that yell at him to wake up and feed them.

A cat that lays on the book he is reading and knocks over his inkwells.

It would be hilarious if Gale had a cat who did EVERYTHING that Tara told it to do.

Is Gale not getting up to eat? "Mittens, please inform Mr. Dekarios that it is time for your supper."

Gale hasn't cleaned the tower lately? "Patches, your litter box smells rank. Alert Mr. Dekarios to its squalor. Be a dear and also remind him to clean up those books piled up on his desk--yes, you may help him."

Does Gale just need a mental reset from research? "MR. DEKARIOS--Dotty looks pitiful. Throw her mouse. And her ringing ball. Immediately. No, it cannot wait another half hour. She is LANGUISHING."

Gale would do well with chaos kittens, I think.

[thoughts-of-bear]

The birthday gift

A Halsin x reader fanfiction | Explicit, 18+ | 7k words A/N: Okay since the Halsin brainrot has had its hold on me for ages, I started this fic on my birthday in december, not expecting to ever finish it because I have literally never finished anything I've started writing before- until now. I got inspired to write this by this post (for the birthday part, the smut part is my own horny imagination) and well, this is the final product. Since it's my first time publishing any of my writing and writing smut at all, please be kind with me XD Summary: Your companions prepare a surprise birthday party for you, Halsin sees you in your new dress, you two dancing leads to him confessing his feelings for you and a very happy ending... CW: halsin x f!reader, virgin reader, halsin eating pussy, fingering, p in v sex, breeding, rough sex i guess, halsin being the man he is, all that stuff idk what to write here really

I hope you enjoy it, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

You and your companions had finally reached Baldur’s Gate. It’s still morning when you enter Rivington that day and the streets are busy with all kinds of people, many seemingly refugees from Elturel and farther away, here to find shelter in the city. As you continue down the road to the village in front of the city gates, you are stopped by a little red-headed girl.

“Erm. ‘Scuse me, I can’t find my mum.” She looks worn out and as if she has recently been crying.

“Where did you last see her?” you ask as you bend down to her, smiling to show you want to help.

“She went to go get some herbs - for her spots” she gestures towards her face. “She was sick. And she was supposed to come back the same day.” She pauses before adding, “That was last tenday though.”

“Let’s go find a guard. They’ll be able to help you”, you propose.

The girl shakes her head. “Guards blow like petards. They don’t help us.”

Your heart sinks at these words. It seems all these people were here because the city wouldn’t take them in. And the guards are no help either, apparently. You wonder what happened to your city, where once everyone was welcome.

Halsin sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. “This city is a poor place to be in need of help. Even the guards can’t be trusted to protect the most vulnerable.”

You silently agree and think of how you could help that girl. You decide to spare a few coins, so she can buy herself some food.

“I don’t know where your mum is, but here - take a few coins”, you offer her, not able to tell her that her mother is most likely dead. Halsin smiles at you warmly as you shoot him a quick glance, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh - erm. Thank you so much! I don’t have anything and you can’t do anything without any coin”, the little girl exclaims, bobbing on her toes and suddenly looking a little less tired. “I’ll pay you back. When I find my mum.” She turns around and bolts. “No need, it’s a gift!” you call after her but she has already vanished in the crowd.

You finally arrive at Wyrm’s Rock Crossing in the evening, after you had snuck past one of the new city guards - the so-called Steel Watch - and promised to investigate the murder of the local Ilmater priest. Another incident that seems to fuel the hate towards the refugees.

And that isn’t even all. The city is closed, even for you as a Baldurian, and to get in you’d need an Admission Pass - or wings. You sigh. You just want to get into the city, rent a room in the Elfsong and think about what to do next, now that the Absolute’s army must soon be upon the city.

It’s all too much and too little time. And you can’t just turn away from the people you met in Rivington either, they need help just as much as you need to find out how to beat the Absolute’s Chosen and get rid of the tadpoles.

When you make your way around camp that evening, checking up on your companions, Halsin notices your exhaustion, the way you slump your shoulders and how your usually impeccable stance falters. He wants to relieve you of at least a bit of the tension, so when you walk over to him, he offers you a massage. The things he wants to say to you can wait until tomorrow.

“Thank you, Halsin”, you accept, his hands turning you around and gently pushing you down to sit on your knees before him. You sigh as his broad hands knead the tension from your back and by the time he is finished, you feel like a sleepy, boneless lump of flesh, muscles completely relaxed. You thank Halsin again before you retire to your bedroll, the hopeful thought that the offer might’ve been more than Halsin’s usual kindness crossing your mind before you drift off to sleep.

The next evening, you were finally inside the city walls. You consider the new information of the day. How you got your hands on an invitation to the celebration at Wyrm’s rock fortress, your disbelief to see that it was Lord Gortash’s coronation as Arch Duke, how he made the tadpoled Duke Ravengard give up his power and how Bane’s Chosen then proposed an alliance against Orin, the shapeshifter that had already approached you in Rivington. You had agreed to kill her, but you definitely wouldn’t leave Gortash his Netherstone. But that is a problem for another day. You had managed to get a room in the Elfsong Tavern and as usual you make your way through it to hear what your companions think of all that had happened today. Most approve of your decision. Halsin is the last person you speak to and as always, he has just the right words to ease your worries. For now, at least.

“Wait-”, he grabs your arm before you can leave. “I didn’t thank you yet.” His large hand is warm and makes your skin tingle where it touches you.

“Thank me? For what?” He chuckles at your puzzled look. “For all that you did in Rivington yesterday. You have so many worries and yet you still go out of your way to help those in need. The way you made that little girl smile, or how you didn’t hesitate to investigate what happened to that Ilmater priest.” A blush creeps up your cheeks as he continues. “I’m afraid Nature’s balance can never be restored in a city like this, but seeing what you do every day without expecting anything in return gives me hope. And for that I thank you.” You smile up at him, lost for words with your heart beating fast.

“I appreciate you saying this. I wish I could to more, to help everyone, but if I can at least do a little good, it’s worth the exhaustion at the end of the day”, you eventually admit with a smile. Halsin grins. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are.” Your cheeks blush an even deeper red at those words and only when you retire to bed for the evening does your heart resume its normal pace again. But the warm feeling Halsin’s presence gave you remained for the night.

After you had the first proper breakfast since your crash with the Nautiloid, you feel ready to explore the city and find out how to best deal with all your problems. You hadn’t particularly missed the bustle and noise of your old home, but you can’t help feeling safer now that you were in familiar surroundings again.

Gale proposed to go to Sorcerous Sundries, both to find out more about the Elderbrain’s crown and to see what the wizard there wants with your companion Nightsong. Since you don’t have an idea where to find Orin yet, you figure that this is as good as any other thing you could be doing. 

The way from Elfsong to the magic shop isn’t far and you still have some time before it opens, so you decide to stop by the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette to update yourself on any news you had missed in your absence and struggle with the Absolute.

Scanning the title page, you notice the date in the corner and your brows shoot up in surprise. Noticing this, Gale asks if you found anything important in the newspaper.

“No, it’s just that I realised today is my birthday and I've completely forgotten about it. That means we have been on the road for more than two months already”, you wonder aloud before you add, “It doesn’t feel that long.”

“Well, then we have to celebrate of course!” Gale exclaims happily. You smile at his enthusiasm but shake your head. “We have bigger problems for now. Let’s see what this Lorroakan wants with Dame Aylin and then get on with our business. Besides,” you shrug, “we didn’t celebrate birthdays in my monastery anyways so I won’t miss anything.”

“If you say so,” Gale replies and you turn your attention back towards the page you were studying before.

You had already forgotten about the conversation as you come into your chamber in the Elfsong, grateful for the few minutes alone during the bath you had taken and the respite for your tired body.

But the moment you enter the room, Karlach and Shadowheart drag you to a set dinner table, laden with the most delicious food you could imagine. There aren’t your ordinary fish heads and the mouldy bread you usually have to call supper, instead delicious smelling pork roasts, pies, glazed carrots and potatoes, deep red apples and more pile atop the table, all lovingly placed around a huge flower bouquet in the middle of it.

You are so overwhelmed by the amount of work your friends must’ve put into this, that you can only stutter a ‘thank you’ before Karlach announces, “Happy birthday soldier! Halsin, Gale and Shadowheart here told us that today is your birthday and you never had a proper party before, so we decided to prepare you a little something!” With a grin she gestures from the table to one of the unoccupied beds, where a few packages are placed.

“You brought me presents too? You really didn’t have to!” you exclaim in surprise. You are so touched that your friends -among all the trouble- still found time to prepare the presents and this party for you that you feel tears well up in your eyes.

“Darling, no need to cry,” Astarion laughs as he pushes you onto your designated chair. “This is a party and not a funeral! Go ahead and enjoy yourself, it’s your special day after all!”

With a sniff and a small chuckle at Astarion’s words you sit down properly. He is right, of course, and you all clearly enjoy having a small break from the worries you faced at the moment.

Smiling hesitantly, you grab some meat and vegetables and start to eat - it really is delicious. You revel in the laughter and conversations with your friends, your weariness from todays fight forgotten for the moment.

When all of you can’t possibly eat any more, Karlach drags you over to the bed with the presents. You can tell she is excited to see if you like the few things your companions managed to get you in the time they had for preparing, so you start unpacking.

The first present contains a book on the monastery you were raised in, with a handwritten note from Gale:

“I’m sure you already know most information this book has to offer, but I thought it might still bring you comfort and remind you of home.” You thank him with a tight hug and carefully place the book into your bag.

The next package is a bottle of the finest liquor of the Elfsong Tavern, plus a sparkler for every one of your companions which Karlach sets of immediately.

Laughing at her shenanigans, you reach for the last and biggest present. It is wrapped in red paper and decorated with a little white bow. You wonder where your companions had managed to find all those things while you carefully pull the paper open. Soon a dress falls out of the packaging and you gaze at it in awe. Your fingers trace the deep forest green fabric, intricate silver and gold patterns weaved into it.

“This is beautiful, thank you, truly!” you say earnestly. You still can’t quite believe that all this should be for you. “I thought you would like it”, smiles Shadowheart. “And I’m certain it will suit you beautifully. Go now - try it on!” she urges you.

You walk to the bathroom which still smells of the quince-scented soap you had used for your bath a few hours before. While changing, you bask in that warm feeling in your chest these moments among your friends always grant you. Whatever problems you had encountered, in your opinion they have all been worth it just for the people you found and let into your heart along the way. As cheesy as that sounds.

You regard yourself in the mirror. The dress is cut low and close-fitting, capturing your cleavage in a very flattering way. Maybe too flattering, if you think about it too much. This isn’t something you’d usually wear, but you have to admit that you like the way the dress looks on you. A bit insecure you go back into your room, where you are greeted with approving cheers and whistles from your friends.

“You look absolutely stunning”, Shadowheart admires. “I knew it would look good on you! Turn around please”, she commands. You do what you are told, with red cheeks at the compliment.

When you face Shadowheart again, you notice Halsin gazing at you with pure admiration - and something else you can’t quite place. You think you notice a golden shimmer in his eyes, but that could be a trick of the light considering all the candles in the room.

“I must admit, your neck looks very tempting in that dress but I know someone who is a lot hungrier for you than me right now”, Astarion remarks with a wicked grin and a sideward glance. You frown at him, though you can’t help your heart skipping a beat at these words. Could he possibly mean Halsin?

“Now, what would a party be without some music and dance?” Wyll interrupts your thoughts and as if these words have summoned her, the bard the party had met in the druid grove appears in the doorway.

“Alfira!” you exclaim happily and immediately rush over to hug her. “I’m so glad you got to Baldur’s Gate alright!”

Alfira grins at you. “Yes, thanks to you and your friends here. When they reached out to me today and told me it was your birthday, I just had to come! Wyll organised everything.” You nod to him in thanks. “Now, I don’t have anything to give you but just tell me what you want to hear and I will play it for you!”

“Thanks, Alfira, that’s more than enough for me”, you beam and lead her into the room towards your group. “Wyll, now is your chance to show me your dancing!” You say as you take his hand and pull him into the middle of the room, then you grab Karlach and Gale and start to move to the tune Alfira started to play. Karlach swirls you around and Wyll shows you the dance moves from court, which -to be honest- remind you a bit of the mating dances you had seen with a few bird species.

Out of breath from all the dancing and laughing, you request a slower tune from the tiefling bard. You manage to persuade Shadowheart to put away her wine for a moment and start to waltz around the room with her. She is quite the good dancer and you wonder where she had learned it, with her being raised in a Sharran temple and everything.

At the next tune, you approach Halsin. With your head light from the wine, you have finally gathered the courage to ask him for what you have secretly thought about the whole time.

Still, you can feel your heart beating in your throat. “Erm…Halsin, w-would you honour me with a dance?” you eventually manage to mumble out shyly.

“Of course, little flower. Whatever your heart desires.” That particular heart skips a beat at his intimate tone. “Although you might wish you hadn’t asked me that once you’ve seen my dancing”, he adds with a chuckle as he takes your hand.

He leads you into the room and starts to swirl you around to the melody of Alfira’s lute. He definitely isn’t as graceful as Shadowheart but certainly not as bad as he has made it sound. But even if he’d had the dancing skills of a bugbear, you wouldn’t have noticed. His large and warm hand around your waist and the smile with which he regards you sends your pulse through the ceiling. His smell of pine and honey and fresh air intoxicates you and it is hard to keep your feet from getting tangled in your dress.

When he leans down to you, you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. “Before you go and mingle again, I still have a present for you. I wasn’t sure if you would even like it”, he admits, “but I have decided to give it to you anyways.” When the tune ends, he leads you to the space in your room where his bed stands and bends down to search his pack.

You think about how long it took you to realise how attracted you are to the druid as you admire his strong back before you. Of course, you have noticed his kindness and compassion and you have always marvelled at the way he drew strength from nature. But only since you had some kind of break these last days have you begun to understand the depth of your affection for the man before you. It runs deeper than mere friendship and the echo of his hands on your back have awoken a hunger inside you that only grows stronger the more you look at Halsin. How desperately you hope that he feels the same way about you…

When he stands up to turn around, you quickly brush away the thought that has sent the heat into your cheeks again.

“You’re the only one who knows of my secret passion”, he begins jokingly, “so I thought you might accept this as my present for your special day.” He hands you a small whittled duck he has apparently made in the hours you were away from camp. You can’t help but tear up at the thought of how much effort he has put into all the details he has carved. There are even small webbed feet on the underside of the little duck.

“Thank you Halsin, this is an amazing gift!” You smile down at the little duck. “You are amazing”, you add quietly.

“With all that you have done for me, I should be the one thanking you night and day.” As you look into his eyes again you see that his gaze is now very solemn. “There was another reason for wanting to speak to you privately. I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now.” Your heart flutters in recognition of his words, the confession sending sparks across your skin.

“I want more than to fight at your side, or to sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine.” Halsin’s gaze on you is intense, filling your chest with a burning heat that slowly spreads lower into your belly, as if the wine you have been drinking suddenly caught on fire inside of you.

Halsin continues, “I think you feel the same way - but tell me I’m wrong and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”

You stare at him for a moment before you realise that he waits for your answer.

“Y-you’re not wrong, far from it”, you whisper. “I would like that very much.” You smile up at him and he takes your hand in his.

“May I kiss you?” he breathes out, relieved. You nod and he bends down to gently press his lips on yours.

His hand slides up your arm and to your back while he places his other behind your head, gently pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

You feel his tongue prodding at your lips, demanding entrance and you happily oblige. The feeling of his soft lips on yours sends you spiralling and you can’t stifle the small moan that escapes you. Halsin sends out a silent prayer to Silvanus - if that is all it takes to make you moan, what sounds do you make when he finally gets to taste you? Groaning, his hand on your back slowly wanders lower, a silent question of permission in his eyes. You press your body against his as an answer, feeling the heat radiating off his chest … and lower.

Halsins hand grips your ass firmly, making you gasp, the other joining in and hoisting you up on his hips, turning you both around and pressing your back to the wall. You cannot stop the surprised squeak that escapes your lips at the sudden movement and Halsin presses his mouth on yours to stifle it.

The feeling of the growing bulge in his pants between your legs and the low moan Halsin utters before kissing you even more vigorously sends a shiver down your spine, pressure starting to build between your thighs.

In a desperate attempt to pull him closer, your hands grip Halsin’s hair, arms, everything you can reach. But before you can lose yourself in him, Halsin releases your lips, panting, and rests his forehead against yours.

“I would very much like to continue”, he whispers, his breathing ragged and voice hoarse with desire, “but the others will expect us back and I think you would probably like a bit more privacy.” He sighs and softly kisses your hair. “I will come to your bed when the party has ended, little flower. But don’t expect much sleep”, he adds with a wicked grin. You can only nod as he gently props you back on your feet.

With your head spinning, you get back to the others, averting your eyes from the knowing smirks of Astarion and Shadowheart noticing your ruffled hair and flushed cheeks. You ignore them, trying to engage in some more conversation and one or two dances while the thought of what awaits you won’t leave your head.

When the last of the party finally bids you goodnight, you hurry to bed, awaiting Halsin. You can’t get away from the echoes of his hands on your body, heart already racing again and warmth blooming in your belly. Even if he hadn’t promised you he’d come tonight, you would’ve been unable to sleep.

A soft rustle next to your ear startles you from your thoughts and as you turn your head, you could make out Halsin’s large figure in the dark, crouching beside your bed.

He cuts you off from what you wanted to say by placing a finger on your mouth, his other hand sliding under your back and pulling you into an upright position. With your heart beating into your throat, you take the hand Halsin offers as he gently beckons you to follow him into the corridor outside of the room the party shares, then further into a small but cosy bedroom on the next floor.

The door closes with a click and before you can say anything, Halsin sweeps you up into his arms, pressing you flat against the door and capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like it burns you from the inside.

Halsin’s fresh, earthy scent floods your senses as your tongues intertwine and your hands find their way into his hair, tugging at his braids. You whine when Halsin lets go of your lips, only to gasp as he starts nibbling and placing searing kisses on your jaw while his hands squeeze your ass firmly, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.

You moan at the growing ache between your thighs but plant your small fists against his shoulders anyway, gently pushing him away a bit. Halsin’s eyes, pupils wide and dark with desire, find yours.

“What is it my heart?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Do you want me to stop?” You see no disappointment in his gaze, only worry and your heart swells at how selfless your lover is. You avert your eyes, suddenly embarrassed to tell what troubles you.

“I- I j-just wanted t-to say that … um … well, I- I have never been with someone before”, you mumble eventually, averting your gaze as you blush furiously.

“Silvanus, preserve me”, Halsin groans out before almost dropping you and stumbling backwards, trying to steady himself on the small desk opposite the bed. With wide eyes you regard what is happening before you. Halsin drops to his knees, a deep animalistic growl coming from his lips as his eyes fill with golden light and he transforms into his huge bear form.

You gasp and nearly trip over your feet in an attempt to make room for the bear before you, but the animal fills almost the entire chamber. After finally regaining his composure, Halsin manages to change back into his elf form, with a snarl and a ragged breath coming from his lips.

“Forgive me. I- lost the run of myself.” He shakes his head in disgust at his outbreak, terrified that he has ruined this precious moment with you before it could properly begin, and slowly gets back to his feet. “Sometimes, when blood runs hot enough, it’s difficult to tame the beast. And the thought of you trusting me enough to share your first time with me … well, you saw what happened”, he smiles tentatively, slowly approaching you again with hesitation in his eyes.

“Don’t apologise”, you assure him with a shy smile. “I like it.” If possible, you blush even harder now. “Maybe for another time…?” you add, fidgeting nervously with the front of your dress.

A relieved grin spreads over Halsin’s face. “You like it..?”, he chuckles. “You are full of surprises, little flower.” As he steps forward, he bends down to gently plant a kiss on your cheek, only to proceed to bite at your earlobe which elicits a delicious moan from you.

“I’m glad you think so, but now you’ve made it even harder for me not to outright devour you”, his low voice whispers in your ear. “Nevertheless, I will be gentle. Or at least I’ll try to be.” You swallow hard, arousal sending shivers down your spine.

Halsin’s arms wrap around your waist again as he kisses your jaw, your forehead and nose, until eventually his lips find yours again, his tongue ravaging you like a man starving. His hands, this time directly shoving under your dress, firmly grip your thighs. He ruts against you, growling, his now rock-hard cock pressing against the confinements of his clothing.

His fingers trail higher up, kneading your ass, then stroking the soft skin of your back before slowly wandering even higher. His touch sends jolts through your body and you can feel the heat between your legs, already nearly too much to bear.

His eyes hold an unspoken question and when you nod, Halsin lifts your dress off and brings his mouth down on one of your breasts, the hand that’s not on your back now gently kneading the other, massaging the hardened nipple between his fingers. You mewl at the sensation, impossibly more pressure building between your thighs. Halsin gently bites down at your breast, only to run his tongue over it afterwards to soothe the mark he made. You moan and arch your back, desperately trying to press closer against Halsin’s still overly clothed erection, wanting to feel everything of him.

He growls and his mouth begins to place kisses down your front, between your breasts, on the soft flesh of your belly until he is on his knees before you, his warm breath fanning over you and flooding you with heat.

“More?” he asks, his pupils blown wide with lust, as his thumbs brush the soft skin between your legs. “Please”, you whine, knees almost too weak to stand and your underwear already embarrassingly soaked.

Halsin wastes no time, pressing kisses on the insides of your thighs, his one hand holding you in place and his other slowly -too slowly- sliding your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare and dripping with need before him almost makes him lose control again, makes him want to take you, devour you, fuck you, mark you and then fill you to the brim with his cum but with a groan he wills himself to calm down and be gentle with you. He won’t hurt you. He won’t.

He exhales deeply, lifting one of your legs up and slowly swiping his tongue through your wet folds, which earns him a choked gasp. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue starts stroking, slowly at first, then faster and with more pressure. You can’t help the way each expert swipe of his tongue makes your hips buck into his mouth as countless moans and sighs fall out of your mouth. Halsin growls in response, the vibrations around your sensitive bud making your legs shake. You can barely keep up and the coil in your belly is tightening ever faster with Halsin’s mouth sucking your clit and his tongue inside you.

“You are sweeter than honey, my heart”, he groans as his tongue presses flat against you. “Let me taste you as you come undone on my tongue.” With your mind clouded with lust, all you can do is moan out Halsin’s name and press yourself further against your lover’s mouth.

He understands anyway, now slowly dragging a thick finger through your dripping folds until he stops, teasingly pressing against your entrance. You whine, begging him to fill you, to do anything to release the overwhelming pressure between your thighs. When he finally thrusts into you, you can’t stifle the cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth. With Halsin’s finger now working your cunt open, his mouth continues its ministrations, licking and sucking your clit, soaking your legs with your slick.

With a wicked grin, Halsin inserts a second finger into your quivering hole, pushing inside over and over again, holding you firmly in place as you try to writhe away from the intense pleasure. His fingers coil upwards in response, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Please Halsin…”, you beg, toes curling and legs shaking, “I’m close- I- Oh!“

Moaning into your cunt, Halsin picks up his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue swipes over your clit again and again, bringing you closer to your end.

One more thrust with his fingers and a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive bud between your legs is all it needs to send you spiralling over the edge. “Ha- Halsin!” you cry out, hips jerking violently and fingers digging into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you with the force of a lightning bolt. He moans at the sensations of your walls contracting around his fingers, the urge to take you and feel you squeeze his cock with your needy cunt almost overwhelming him.

You whine when he pulls his fingers out and stands up, bringing you in for a passionate kiss as you still struggle to regain your breath. Tasting yourself on Halsin’s tongue pulls a small moan from you and an embarrassed heat creeps up your back at the thought of how aroused you already are again.

With a smile, Halsin pulls away. “You are amazing, little flower”, he whispers breathlessly as he picks you up and gently places you on the bed, admiring your flushed body.

If Halsin’s tongue hadn’t just turned your mind to goo, you might have been able to return that compliment, but alas-

“May I go further?” Halsin asks and when you nod he swiftly discards of his clothes, you licking your lips at the sight of the elf naked before you. Your eyes take in his form, from his muscled arms down to the soft curve of his belly and- oh gods. Your eyes widen. You didn’t think he would be that big and the thought of him filling you makes you gulp down a mixture of fear and arousal.

Attentive as always, Halsin notices your insecurity and bends down to press gentle kisses against your ear. “We don’t have to do this, my heart…”, he whispers while he rubs soothing circles into your hips. He looks at you, his expression earnest. You bite your lip, thinking for a moment before answering. “N-no, I want this”, you assure him, your voice still weak but pleading now. The way you look so sweet with your little fangs on your lips makes Halsin feral and he kisses you again, desperate and more passionate this time. He groans into the kiss as he gently spreads your legs for him, lining up his tip with your dripping slit and sliding through your soft folds before stopping just at your entrance. The sensation of his hard length so close to entering you is enough to make your head fall back, eyes squeezed shut. “If it’s getting too much, tell me and I will stop immediately”, he whispers soothingly. “Now relax for me, little flower.”

All thoughts leave your head as Halsin slides in, agonizingly slow. The stretch would be painful if your lover hadn’t prepared you so thoroughly beforehand, but now you only feel pure bliss. Raising your head, you can see that he isn’t even halfway in but gods, you feel so full already that you can’t stifle the choked gasp that escapes your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my heart. Just a little bit more- mngh-!“ Halsin’s growl sends jolts through your spine as he finally bottoms out. You can see just how much effort it takes him to hold back by the way his jaw tenses and his chest is heaving.

“By Silvanus, you’re so tight-!“ A shiver crawls down his back, carrying a wave of soft golden light with it, as Halsin’s eyes light up with his magic for a moment. The thought of how you are able to bring your lover to the precipice of losing control is extremely flattering and you feel yourself clenching around Halsin’s cock, making him grunt in response. Finally somewhat accustoming to his size, you arch your back into the mattress below you. The new angle makes you moan in pleasure as you grip the sheets for support.

“Are you still feeling good, little flower?”, Halsin asks as he slides a hand from your hip under your back to support you. You can only form one thought. “More- please Halsin!” you whine desperately. You don’t have to ask twice, with a low growl he slides out - just to knock the breath out of you with his first, hard thrust. He sets a steady pace, one that leaves you moaning and gasping out his name. Halsin takes your small hands into his, pressing them into the bed beside you to pin you down, pushing into you deep and slow while he places bites and kisses on your throat and chest that will surely leave marks come morning.

Gods, Halsin thought. The sight of your small body sprawled beneath him, split apart by his thick cock while he fucks into you relentlessly is driving him insane. He is growling with every thrust now and each one of them makes you cry out in pleasure. It doesn’t take long until he has you on the precipice of release again, your cunt fluttering around Halsin’s length.

“H- halsin- please! I’m so close!” you can only beg, not sure if you can take much more, your body feeling like it might explode. “Come for me, my heart”, Halsin demands in a gravelly voice before pressing a thumb to your clit, rubbing and massaging until his name leaves your lips in a hoarse cry as your orgasm hits you with full force. Your hips jerk upwards, walls clenching around Halsin as you notice the tears from the overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face. He continues to pound into you, prolonging your release and muttering praises for you under his breath.

Through the fog in your mind you wonder how Halsin still has the energy to keep going, his pace unwavering while you are completely spent, gladly accepting whatever your lover has to give you as long as you’re not required to move.

So, you do not see it coming when Halsin suddenly pulls out of you, the unexpected emptiness making you whine in displeasure, only for him to flip you over and press your chest into the soft bedding while he gently raises your hips.

“I know it’s a lot right now but I need you to cum for me one more time, my heart”, Halsin huffs with a strained voice, pushing inside you once more and grabbing a fistful of your hair to keep you in place. The new position lets him slide even deeper than before and you can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you when Halsin starts pounding into you again, hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll back with blinding pleasure.

“’s too much- please-!” you sob, your poor overstimulated clit still trying to recover from the last orgasm. But Halsin doesn’t relent and you can feel sharp pricks on your hips where his hand grips you, fingers partially wild-shaped into claws and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Seeing just how feral you drive him makes your hole clench around his shaft, the squeeze causing his hips to stutter as a grunt leaves his lips. “Silvanus preserve me”, Halsin pants as he fucks into you even faster, “if you keep squeezing me like that I will not be able to stop myself from claiming you completely, from making you mine and filling you up with my seed.”

You whimper at the image of Halsin pumping his cum into you, fucking it deep into your womb until he is sure that it has taken hold. You cannot pretend you haven’t thought about it before, the idea usually sending an embarrassed heat into your cheeks, but now - gods, now you needed it.

Completely breathless you moan, “Halsin I- ah-! please-! Fill me with your cubs!” These words were the last needed for Halsin to lose himself completely in you, driving himself into you with punishing strokes that cause you to arch yourself into him while moans and whispered curses fall from both your lips. The coil in your stomach is so tight again and when Halsin takes the hand from your hip to softly press on your lower belly you see stars. Your walls clench around Halsin’s cock and you feel him twitch inside you, a sign that he too is close to release. All it takes to send you over the edge is his finger pressed against your clit, your body shaking violently beneath him, toes curling, while waves of ecstasy course through you and you cry out his name.

With a last snap of his hips and a low moan, Halsin comes as well, twitching cock releasing hot spurts of cum inside your still fluttering walls. He continues to pump into you until the aftershocks of your shared orgasm have subsided, before he slowly pulls out. You collapse onto the mattress, exhaustion settling over your overstimulated body.

Halsin gets onto the bed with you, gently gathering you up in his arms and placing your head against his broad chest. “You’ve done so well for me, little flower”, he whispers into your ear, placing soft kisses on your face before he looks your body up and down. One of his hands comes up to stroke a strand of hair away from your damp forehead and to gently lift your chin in order to look you in the eyes. You note worry in his gaze, his brows furrowed in remorse when he plants a feather light kiss on your lips.

“I’ve hurt you”, he states. “I’m so sorry, my heart. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

You smile up at him and cuddle deeper into his arms before you shake your head. “Don’t apologise. I loved every second of it. There is no birthday present in this world that can ever match this”, you confess with a shy grin. “Although I have to admit I’m a little sore. You sure did your best to make sure I’m unable to walk tomorrow.”

Halsin chuckles. “I can help with that”, he answers with a sly smile, his free hand sliding down your body to stroke through your soft folds, muttering an incantation under his breath. As the familiar glow of the healing spell engulfs his fingers, you feel a rush of warmth where he touches you. A moan escapes your lips before you could stop it, eliciting a mischievous smirk from your lover as you hide your face against his chest in embarrassment.

“I’d be happy to go again, my love, but I think you need some rest first. Besides, we still have an Elderbrain to kill, so we’ll need our strength tomorrow.” You nod at that, the tiredness in your bones leaving you unable to object, even if you had wanted to. But you know he is right, so when Halsin wraps a blanket around you to carry you to the bathroom, you just relax into his chest, the sound of his steady breathing soothing you.

When the bathtub is filled with warm water, you are already half asleep, barely registering that Halsin is gently cleaning you up, rinsing the sweat from your hair and body and rubbing salve over the bite marks and the bruises on your hips once you are dry again.

You can hear the soft snores and deep breathing from your companions when Halsin brings you back into the room you share, all of them already fast asleep. Absentmindedly you wonder how long you and Halsin have been away, but the thought is gone as soon as Halsin places you on your bed.

“Goodnight, my little flower. Sleep well.” He gives you a kiss and turns to leave. You manage to grab his hand before he does, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay with me tonight?” you mumble sleepily. Halsin smiles, warmth and adoration filling his chest as he carefully climbs next to you, the bedframe creaking slightly with his additional weight, and wraps his arms around your smaller figure. The thought of how your companions might react in the morning seeing you two in one bed briefly crosses your mind, but Halsin’s steady breathing and the soft pulse of his heart against your back soon drown out anything else as you drift to sleep in his warm embrace.

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

Part 2 is here now!

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Durge: *Slams a cultist up against a wall, holding them by the throat.* I'm going to enjoy skinning you alive. I'll make it slow, so that by the time it's done your throat will have bled raw from your agonized screams.

Astarion: Darling, I'm hurt. I thought that sort of talk you only reserved for me in the fervor of our bedroom?

*Collective groans of exasperation and disgust.*

Lae'zel: Kainyank! Put gold into the Jack's Ass jar.

Gale: *Holds up jar.* Jackass jar. We've gone over this.

Lae'zel: As I have said before, this term 'jackass' is illogical. Who is this Jack and why is it an insult to call somebody his ass?

Gale: And as I have said before, there is no Jack! That's just what the word is! It doesn't have to be logical!

Lae'zel: You humans are tiresomely vexing. I propose we call it the Galeass jar. Then, at least, the insult will have weight.

Astarion: *Drops a gold into the Galeass jar.* Worth it.

- - - -

BG3 Incorrect Quotes Masterlist.

[oh-my-damn]

Reverie

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav/reader

Summary: You wake up to your lover having a nightmare. You do your best to soothe him afterwards, but Astarion knows the perfect way to distract himself from it, and it includes having your naked body under his – among other things.

Wordcount: 5500

Warnings: Angst (regarding nightmares/Cazador), fluff (including cute nicknames for Astarion 🥹), smut (fingering, piv, unprotected sex, dirtytalk, explicit sexual descriptions, breeding kink, blood/blood drinking).

Masterlist

You jolt awake at the sudden movement against you, your mind alert and ready to face danger even if you were just hauled out of sleep.

Your wide eyes search the dark room for any threats, rapidly moving over the space until you realize no one is there.

But then there is another movement next to you, this time followed by yelling.

"No.. No! NO! Don't-please!"

You look to your right to find your lover tussled up in the sheets, his eyes firmly closed while he thrashes, his yelling intensifying.

"Please! NO!" Astarion yells again, making your heartbeat spike, your hands quickly finding his bare shoulders to offer him comfort.

He's asleep, clearly embedded in a nightmare that's causing him horrors you could only dare imagine, given his history. You keep your voice low and soothing to your best ability, your hands gentle when you stroke them up and down his arms.

"Stari, baby, wake up. You're safe. Wake up."

He doesn't react, instead tossing his head from side to side as he screams again. Your heart breaks at the terrified look on his sleeping face, your touches turning more determined to try and wake him.

"Astarion, hey. Wake up baby, you're having a nightmare, wake-"

He suddenly jolts awake, his wide, crimson eyes finding you in a panic, his breathing ragged. His cold fingers wrap around your wrist, and it takes a moment before he realizes who is touching him.

"Shh, it's just me, you're okay baby. You were having a nightmare."

His panicked eyes bounce between yours, a beat passing before he breathes in heavily, almost like he was suffocating under the pressure. His fingers stay wrapped around your wrist, but the touch turns more desperate than panicked, like he needs to touch you to ensure you're real.

"Shh," you coo, letting your hand run through his hair to soothe him, "It's okay, you're okay. You were having a bad dream, but you're okay."

He lets out a small sob, and then he suddenly wraps his arms around you. You let out an oopmf when he pulls you down to him, hiding his face in your neck, one of your hands continuing to caress his hair while the other strokes his arm.

You gently shush him, doing your best to help him calm down, and he gradually does, although he elects to stay quiet.

After a while, he calms more, allowing you to gently shift him around. You move to lie down on your back, pulling him with you, his face still buried in your neck while his arms wrap around your waist in an iron-tight grip.

He moves slightly to allow himself to lie on top of you, holding you close, and you wrap your legs around his waist to make the new position more comfortable for both of you. Your fingers gently move down his back, careful as they move over the scarring there, occasionally running up over his shoulders and the back of his neck.

You let him take his time, deeply breathing in your scent as your warmth envelopes him, his cold lips brushing over the skin on your neck occasionally.

You let your fingers travel up into his hair, carefully playing with his curls, and when you feel he's mostly calm you quietly whisper, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I'd just like to hold you a little longer, please."

His response is immediate, making you nod and wrap yourself tighter around him. He hums at the feeling, nuzzling his face into your neck while your fingers scratch his scalp.

"Okay, my love. Take your time. Do you want me to talk or stay quiet in the meantime?"

"Talk," he murmurs against your skin, "Your voice always helps."

You hum, smiling softly while you continue caressing him as if he was the most precious, delicate thing in the world – which to you, he truly is.

"In that case, do you want to hear about the time Gale almost consumed my favorite pair of boots?"

Astarion pauses, then huffs out against your neck, "That oaf would eat anything even remotely magical."

You chuckle, shaking your head, "That's the thing, they weren't even magical, he just figured they were."

Astarion snorts against your neck, and then he finally leans back to look down at you with an amused smile, "Are you telling me Gale almost consumed a pair of your normal boots for no reason at all?"

You smile up at him, reaching up to cup his cheek in your hand while you nod, "Mhm, and they were an old, dirty pair, too. I almost let him do it but I didn't want to be mean."

"How'd he get them if they weren't magical? Why would you give them to him?"

"He tried to steal them," you muse, and that makes Astarion chuckle, that beautiful smile of his finally returning to his face.

"You should have let him eat them, my love."

You grin up at your lover, and he mirrors it, his crimson eyes taking in the features of your face.

"I knew you'd say that."

He chuckles again, and then he leans down, his soft lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. He pulls back for a moment, but then he leans back down, kissing you more intensely this time. His lips move over yours languidly, like he's relishing in it, his lips careful and sweet against your own.

You let him control the pace, kissing him back with the same fervor, and then your stomach does a flip when he whispers against your lips, "I love you. Thank you for being mine."

You smile into the kiss, your thumb caressing his cheek, "Always."

Astarion hums at your reply, his lips moving over yours with more determination, his tongue swiping at the seam of your lips. You part them for him, granting his tongue access to your own, and he lets out a rumbling groan in response.

Your fingers slide back to curl in his hair, letting the soft locks envelop your digits before you lightly pull on it, earning another groan from him.

When his lips travel down your jaw to your neck, however, you let out a small chuckle, "Star."

He only hums, his lips lightly sucking on your neck while his tongue darts out occasionally to soothe your skin. You can feel a noticeable hardness growing between the two of you, pulling a breathy gasp from your parted lips when his hips grind down into yours.

"Astarion.. Are you trying to distract me so I won't ask about your nightmare?"

Astarion pauses, a moment passes before his lips latch on to your skin again. Then you feel something sharp and pointy pressing against your neck, scraping over it teasingly.

"Mmh, why on earth would you think that?"

"Because I know you," you snort, but it's becoming more and more difficult to remember why you're protesting when he presses himself against you again, his cock rubbing against your covered core. Your legs tighten around his waist in response, eliciting an amused chuckle from him.

"How about I make you a deal," he murmurs, his tongue swiping over your pulsepoint while his hips start to slowly move, rubbing his covered length against you, "You indulge me now, and I'll tell you all of my innermost secrets after. How's that sound?"

He starts grinding more determinedly, his clothed cock rubbing on your core in a way that makes your toes curl. You only manage to breathe out your words, halfway to a moan before you finish speaking, "Deal."

"Good girl," he hums, making your stomach flutter, and when you feel his fangs nip at your skin again you muse, "Are you hungry or horny, hm?"

"How about both?" He replies, his words followed by another groan when you tilt your hips up to rub against him, his breath catching before he whispers against your skin, "Will you let me have a nibble, my treasure? Just a little one, if you'll allow it – you just taste so sweet, you feel so warm and soft.. I can't resist."

You smile at his words, your fingers tugging on his hair again while your head tilts to the side, presenting the curve of your neck to him, "I'm all yours, you know that."

Your words earn you a few gentle kisses, his voice soft when he whispers, "I do. Just like you know that all of me belongs to you."

You gasp when he sinks his teeth into your neck, your skin stinging when it splits from the pressure. Astarion moans, latching on while his hips start moving more eagerly against you, his clothed cock pressing firmly into your core.

You moan in turn, feeling delirious at the combination of him drinking from you while the feel of his cock turns you into a needy mess, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Astarion drinks from you for a few seconds longer before he gently licks over the spot, his bite turning into delicate kisses instead. He licks his lips, kissing his way up your neck to your jaw, and then his lips brush over your ear when he whispers, "Would you like to know what I want, my darling?"

"Yes," you breathe out, a shiver running down your spine from the desire laced in his voice, "Tell me, please."

"Mmh," he hums in approval, one cool hand sliding down your side, his fingers brushing the side of your breast. Then it wanders back up, and you keen when his palm cups your breast through your nightdress, your back arching in response.

"I want to be inside you," he whispers in your ear, his deft fingers finding your hardened nipple through the fabric, "Gods, how I miss being inside you. It's been far too long, don't you think, my sweet?"

You moan out your words, your mind turning hazy, "You.. Oh gods, you were inside me this morning."

"I know," he purrs in your ear, his fingers squeezing the hard peak, "It's been far too long."

He buries his face in your neck as his hands travel down your sides, finding the hem of your nightdress. His slender fingers curl in the fabric before he starts lifting your dress up, sliding it up over your ass and hips. Then he leans back on his haunches, his crimson eyes watching as his hands reveal more of your skin to him, a smug smile painting his lips when he sees the panties covering you. You're wearing a new pair you found at Facemaker's; thin lacy material, more skimpy than your usual findings at the boutique, and you bought them specifically hoping that he would enjoy how they barely cover anything.

"Cute," he muses, fingers inching under the waistband, "All for me?"

You nod, letting out a breathless giggle when his touch tickles your sensitive skin, your eyes meeting his when they lift to watch your face. Then his expression turns more serious, one perfect brow arching.

"You know what I need," he says quietly, his lust-haze temporarily forgotten, "May I make love to you, my darling? I won't do anything further if you don't want to, but please take into account that I am dying to get inside you right now."

For Astarion, the most sacred part of your relationship was the constant reassurance and consent you both cherished from one another. It was the most important element, and something he took extremely seriously. Even after being together for years, he still wanted to hear you say, out loud, that you wanted to be with him before he took it too far.

You nod, smiling softly as your hand travels up his arm reassuringly, "Yes Astarion, I'd like you to make love to me. Please."

His lips lift in a smirk, and then his fingers curl in the waistband of your panties, "As you wish, my love."

His gaze drops to your lace covered core, his deft fingers inching their way underneath, but when his eyes flick back up to look at you, he frowns slightly, as if he is offended at suddenly noticing that your upper half is still covered by the nightdress you went to bed in.

Then he tuts, his fingers changing direction. Instead of moving south, they slide up your stomach, pushing the fabric up as they go.

His touch is cool on your skin, as it always is, raising goosebumps in its wake. You've learned to enjoy and crave the chill that comes with his touch, it feels like being electrified – like you're not truly alive until you feel the coolness of his fingers on you.

Astarion pushes the dress up to your stomach, pausing once he has the fabric bunched up right below your breasts. Then his eyes flick to meet yours momentarily before they move back to watch as he slowly unveils your breasts, a rumbling sound at the back of his throat when they bounce once he pushes the fabric over the plush mounds.

He releases a breath, his face dropping to your stomach before he nuzzles his way upwards, his lips moving over your skin. Then his tongue darts out when he reaches your breasts, licking over one until he finds a hardened nipple. He flicks it teasingly, then wraps his lips around it with purpose, sucking and nippling on the peak with another groan.

You keen, arching your back while your hands fly to his hair, shivering when you feel his cold fingers finding your other nipple to play with it in tandem. You squirm a little on the bed, grinding your hips upwards, your voice breathless, "Oh gods, your tongue is like the sweetest sin."

Astarion chuckles softly against your skin, he loves spending time worshipping your breasts – in fact, he loves worshipping every single inch of you – and you know that too.

He cups the plush mounds in his hands, pushing them together to better smother his face in them, moaning at how warm and firm yet soft they feel against his face.

You help him out by removing your nightdress completely, pulling it over your head to let him have free roam over your body.

His lips and teeth pull on one nipple while his fingers do the same to the other one, his large palms massaging the flesh greedily.

Your hips start squirming more insistently, your fingers back to pull on his hair as you let out a whimper, "Stari, please.."

"Please what, love?" He muses, experimentally biting down a little harder on your nipple before he switches to the other one, his fingers taking over the work on your now spit-covered peak, "Please continue or please more, hm?"

"More," you gasp, lifting your hips needily against him, crying out when he sucks and bites on your other nipple, "More, more, please, more."

Astarion hums, his lips staying firmly latched on your nipple while his hands travel down your waist again, finding the lacy fabric covering you.

His fingers hook in the waistband, and then he starts dragging them down over your hips and ass, groaning in annoyance when he needs to pull away from you to get them fully off. He sits back up, yanking them the rest of the way off you before he finally has you fully naked, his scarlet gaze dragging over your naked form.

"Finally, just as the gods intended for me to have you," he murmurs, his palms wrapping around your inner thighs. He spreads your legs wide, his piercing gaze on your soaked core, "Naked and writhing desperately, so needy to give yourself to me, isn't that right, my treasure?"

His gaze flits up to meet yours, making you nod, "Yes, I need you, please."

He grunts softly at your needy tone, his hands leaving your thighs to pull at his own underwear, now desperate to feel your skin against his without any barrier between you.

He quickly drags them down, his erection springing free and slapping against his stomach when his large cock is revealed to you. It never seizes to amaze you, the sheer size of him, and even after years of being together, you're still not used to how deeply he manages to fill you each and every time. His cock is thick, veins adorning the girth of him while the pink mushroom tip always steals the breath from your lungs.

It surprised you, at first, that his cock still had some coloring to it considering every other part of him is pale because of the vampirism. Astarion explained that it has to do with the very healthy bloodflow steadily streaming through it, and that had made you giggle at the time, because he made a point of telling you that it happened very frequently, especially whenever he is around you, and assured you that you had absolutely nothing to worry about in that department. Showoff.

It wasn't long after that you became obsessed with worshipping his cock, feeling how hard and heavy he would be on your tongue, his taste became an aphrodisiac to you. You've spent many hours tasting him, worshipping every part of him, not just his cock but his sack too, so heavy and somehow warm despite the usual coldness of his body.

Something else that fascinated you was how hard he could manage to get. Depending on what you'd do, it seemed like he would get harder, thicker, especially if he had been drinking from you. He loves drinking from you while being intimate, and you love it too, it feels like connecting on an entirely different level.

You're pulled out of your reverie when his fingers find your core, pressing against your wet folds and dragging down the slit of you. Astarions gaze is lustful when his eyes connect with yours, taking in how your breath hitches when his fingers brush over your sensitive button, and swipes down to experimentally press against your entrance.

He watches, taking in how your jaw goes slack and your back arches when he slowly pushes one thick digit inside you, a groan bubbling up inside him at how wet and warm you feel. And tight, so fucking tight, always squeezing him so snuggly it makes him want to bury himself in you and stay there forever.

You let out a moan when a second finger joins the first, the stretch delicious and welcome. He loves how you always spread your thighs a little wider on instinct, it's your body's invitation for him to ravish you however he pleases, and he adores that you succumb to him so easily, giving your entire being to him without restraint.

It's part of the reason he fell in love with you so quickly. After being used to holding back for centuries because he had to give himself to people he didn't truly want, it was fascinating to be with someone who so freely gave themselves to him, and only him. It made him feel things, the way you'd become so compliant and submissive even, how trusting you were from the very first moment he first touched your naked form.

His fingers set a slow pace, dragging out and then in again, while he leans over your body, his free arm caging you in. Your eyes meet his when his face leans over yours, his lips brushing over your own as you both moan in unison at the way your walls squeeze his fingers. He increases the pace, pumping them inside you quicker, his body covering yours while he fucks you with his fingers.

Your hands slide up his chest, curling around his neck, dragging him down to connect your lips in a wanton kiss when you can no longer hold back from feeling him against you.

Astarion moans into the kiss, his fingers moving quicker now, and then he catches you by surprise when he adds another finger, stretching you more to prepare you for him.

You whimper at the stretch at first, but his tongue swipes into your mouth to soothe you, and soon you're both moaning heavily while your tongues dance around each other.

"Need to be inside you," he suddenly whispers, his words tinged with desperation, "I need it. Now."

You barely have time to process his words before his fingers leave you, but it only takes a moment until you feel his cock prod at your entrance, pushing inside you slowly. Your hands grip his shoulders at the intrusion, his thick tip stretching you out, your breaths mixing as he pants into your mouth when he slowly enters you.

"Oh gods," you moan, tilting your hips slightly to grant him better access to slide home, "You're so big, you feel so good.."

"I know, sweet pet, but you can take it," Astarion whispers, leaning down to brush his lips over your ear, "I know you love how well I stretch you out, you're so tight, my love. You're gripping me so perfectly, I wish I could spend the rest of my life buried inside this sweet cunt."

His crude words make you moan, he always becomes more daring once he feels your walls around his cock, it's like a trigger going off in his brain, and you adore it. It turns you on beyond belief.

He pushes further inside, your hole stretching to welcome him, and then he lets out a deep, satisfied growl once he's finally fully sheathed inside you, buried to the hilt.

"There we go," he murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to your neck and up your jaw, "I'm finally where I belong, hm? Can't believe I have to spend all day doing other things when I could be right here."

He punctuates his words by grinding his hips into yours, reaching depths beyond even your wildest imagination. Your hands grip his shoulders harder, another moan ripped from your lips.

"I'm going to take my time, stretching you out," he murmurs, nipping on your earlobe with his teeth, "And then, I'm going to fill you up so deeply, you'll be dripping and soaked when I'm done. Would you like that, my darling? Would you like to be so full of me you can think of nothing but how every single part of you belongs to me?"

You whine in response, his tone taunting yet somehow still adoring, and the contrast makes your head swim. Your walls clamp down on his cock, forcing a deep growl out of him, his scarlet eyes narrowing, watching your face intently. You hold eye contact, your lips parting in a breathy moan when he pulls out ever so slightly only to thrust back inside, still waiting for your reply.

"I asked you a question, sweet pet. I said, would you like that?"

He pulls out and thrusts back inside just as you're about to reply, making you keen and stammer out, "Y-yes, I would-I would like that Astarion, please!"

"There she is," he whispers, pulling his hips back until only the tip is resting inside you before he snaps forward, filling you to the brink. "There's my good girl."

He sets off an intense pace, his strokes deep and hard, but the look on his face is loving. His eyes stay locked on you, watching the way your brows furrow in pleasure, your body flushing warm.

When your fingers pull on his hair he leans his chest to yours and tucks his face in your neck with a moan, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. His fingers dig into the flesh as he lifts your ass off the bed, giving him momentum to rut into you harder and faster.

You wail at the new angle, his thick tip rubbing over that spongey spot inside you, throwing your head back and baring your neck for him as you cry out.

Astarion growls in response, he can tell he found the spot that makes you unravel, his lips brushing over your skin as he husks out, "That's it, sing for me, sweetheart. Your moans are my favorite melody."

Then he sinks his fangs into your neck again, and the pain mixed with the way he's fucking you brings you to the edge and forces you to topple over it eagerly.

Your orgasm rips through you, causing you to tighten around his length while you cry out loudly, your fingers tugging on his hair roughly.

He grunts against your neck, licking over your sore spot, his voice restrained, "Fuck - your pussy is begging to be filled, the way you're milking me right now. Your body is just begging for me, begging to be stuffed, begging for me to fucking breed you."

You gasp, shivering when you hear the feral edge to his voice. The two of you have played this game before, it's one of Astarion's favorites. For some reason the idea of knocking you up makes him incredibly hard, and it does inexplicable things to you as well, even though you both know the odds of it ever happening are basically zero.

You whimper at his words, shuddering under him while you ride out your orgasm, his thrusts turning deeper, rougher, the tone of his voice possessive when he hisses in your ear, "Gods, just the thought of you, round with my baby, the thought of you being mine so thoroughly. I dream of it, you know. Dream of starting a family, watching you carry our child."

You gasp, your back arching while your hands slide down his back to embrace him, his thrusts turning sloppier. You can feel his panting breath against your ear, his voice turning ragged.

"I wish - oh gods, I want that more than anything," he moans, his lips dragging up your neck and over your jaw before they meet your own. You moan, kissing him deeply while he ruts into you, his own release nearing.

His fingers dig into your skin, his hips rolling against yours to reach as deep as possible, and then he presses his forehead to yours while his eyes hold your own captive, "I'm going to come inside you, my love. There's nowhere else for me, is there? I belong here, just like this – we belong like this. Joined together, in every sense of the word, forever. Isn't that right, baby?"

You whine and nod, tears starting to form in your eyes at the pleasure. Astarion chuckles breathlessly, reaching up to cup your cheek but his fingers quickly travel into your hair to tangle in it, "Fuck, oh gods, I'm-I'm close, you feel so good sweetheart, I can't-"

He lets out a deep, rumbling groan when he pushes his hips flush against yours, his warmth flooding your insides. You moan in turn at the feeling, your entire body overstimulated from pleasure.

Astarion doesn't stop, though; he keeps fucking you, slowly, sloppily, breathing out heavily against your lips while he fucks his spend deeper inside you, "Gotta fill you properly, don't I, my sweet? Can't let any of it go to waste, hm?"

You shake your head in response, whimpering softly at the sensitivity when he pumps into you a few more times, his moans deep and breathless.

He slows down, his hips eventually coming to a halt, releasing a deep breath before he tucks his face into your neck. He doesn't pull out, though – he remains buried inside you, another thing you know he thoroughly enjoys. You wrap yourself around him, holding onto him tightly while you both catch your breath and relish in the feel of each other.

Astarion breathes in deeply, inhaling your scent like he so often does, but when he speaks his voice is quiet, more solemn, "It was about you."

Your brows furrow slightly, your hazy mind trying to make sense of his words while he's still filling you. Your fingers dance up his back and into his hair, burying them in his soft curls, "What was about me, my love?"

"The nightmare," he whispers, "It was about you."

That makes you pause. Your frown turns more worried, concern lacing your voice, "What happened?"

"It.." Astarion hesitates, pulling his face out of your neck to look down at you. Then he gently cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your bottom lip, "We were back at the palace, with Cazador. And he.. He took you."

You blink, your eyes searching his scarlet ones, the emotion flooding his face and making your heart ache. You let your fingers move through his hair soothingly, tilting your cheek into his touch.

"What do you mean he took me, Star?"

"For himself. I was.. I was back, being his.. His puppet, his slave. I couldn't resist his hold. And I brought you there, and then he.. He took you, turned you into one of them. It felt like every piece of me was breaking apart, it was so real, so vivid; all I could do was scream and weep as he drained your life and turned you into yet another of his spawn."

You hesitate, unsure what to reply. Astarion has had nightmares before, they usually get worse this time of year – around the anniversary of the day you defeated Cazador. But he rarely wants to talk about them in depth, usually he just needs you close.

Knowing his screaming was because of what was happening to you and not himself breaks your heart even more.

You reach up to cup his face in your hands, letting your thumbs gently stroke his cheeks. His eyes glisten, the sadness you've unforunately seen before covering his features.

You keep your voice a gentle whisper, your eyes not straying from his, "It wasn't real, Stari. I'm right here - we're right here, together. Just as we will be, forever. I'm okay, we're both okay. He can't hurt you anymore."

"I know," Astarion sighs softly, breaking eye contact to study your face, "I know he can't, even with the nightmares, somehow I'm always sure that it's not real. But this time it wasn't me he was hurting, it was you, because he knew.. He knew that would be the greatest way to harm me, the only way to keep me under his command. He knew I would never be able to leave you, or risk him hurting you. He knew you'd become my biggest weakness, and he took advantage of that."

"It wasn't real, baby," you whisper, tilting your head a little until his eyes meet yours again, "I'm so sorry these nightmares still haunt you, but he can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt us."

"Part of it was real, though," he whispers hesitantly, searching your eyes, "The part about me not being able to ever leave. That part is real. If he.. If he was still a threat, if he was still alive, that's exactly what would happen. I could never leave you, I don't know if I could survive knowing he was hurting you. I would want to stay under his control for eternity if it meant I at least would get to be near you, with you."

You tear up, your mind conflicted - this is not atypical for Astarion. That a beautiful confession of love comes as a result of pain, but it's part of why you love him. You know every single declaration from him has been true, because he always makes them when he's at his most vulnerable.

You smile softly, caressing his cheeks, "I would endure any form of torture he could throw at me if it meant I'd get to spend my life with you in it, however that may be."

Astarion cracks a small smile, leaning his forehead on yours, "I never thought I would have this. I never thought I would fall in love, be happy like this. I never thought I would find someone I knew I would sacrifice anything for at a moments notice."

"Me neither," you murmur, letting your hands slide into his hair to the back of his neck, "I would do anything for you, Astarion. There is not a thing in this world I wouldn't do to make you happy."

"I would burn the entire world for you, my love," he whispers, his voice gravelly and serious, "I would walk through the nine hells, I would face any devil or deity to ensure your safety. To ensure you'd stay with me, forever. No one will ever take you from me."

Your smile widens, your cheeks flushing at his serious tone. You lean up to plant a quick kiss on his lips, and then you whisper, "The feelings mutual, you know. You're not going anywhere."

Astarion lets out a surprised chuckle, kissing you gently. When he leans down to tuck his face into your neck again, you let out a content sigh, "Although the nine hells sound like a big adventure, I think I'd rather stay here, wrapped around you for a while longer. Do you think burning the world down can wait?"

Astarion hums teasingly, kissing your neck, "Hmm, fine, you've convinced me. Burning the world can wait. At least for a little while."