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secret-smut-sideblog · 9 months ago

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Lover, Please Stay

Astarion x F! Tav

(Pillow Talk part 2)

18+ complicated feelings, angst, jealousy, intimacy, talks of sex work, fingering (f!), oral (f!), forced orgasm (kinda), feral Astarion, tenderness

Tav keeping him at arms length, Astarion makes a plan to woo her back into his good graces. But his hunger, for her and her blood, proves distracting...

Masterlist, Part 1

True to her word, she was avoiding him.

Even leaving him at camp. He covered the sting like he always did.

"You doing all the work while I relax with a good book? Please, if you must twist my arm."

He hid the anxiety throttling him into a sultry smile. Waving goodbye to the retreating party with a wiggle of his fingers.

When they disappeared into the treeline, he turned with a scowl and pushed inside his tent. The hunger gnawing through him now in the forefront of his mind.

In avoiding him, she had inadvertently kept him from her neck.

Animal blood wasn't enough anymore. Sure technically it filled him, it did the job. But it was a meager substitution.

When her blood would burst into his mouth, it sent a crackling pleasure across the back of his skull. Sending fire in slow pulses as her blood pushed out into his veins. From his center ebbing out a warmth in rhythm to his swallowing. His cold body cracking apart with her molten river. It was a miracle he was able to stop that first night.

The bloodcall was a prickling hateful need, but the other need he felt towards her made him bristle more.

He couldn't stop thinking about the way they had crashed and smeared into each other. There was nothing practiced about it, nothing gained or lost. Just pulling mouths and pleading fingers and dizzy heat.

He felt his cock stir just from the memory and frowned.

This wouldn't do. He was too pent up, a dog in a kennel circling.

He would get back in her good graces, in one way or another.

When they had finally returned for the night, he feigned disinterest. Lounging back on a pillow outside of his tent, flicking the pages of one of his books with the tips of his fingers.

She wiggled out of her boots with adorable little grunts. Unlacing her bracers and beginning to lift up to the buckles on her breastplate.

"Here, let me." Gale stepped over, reaching for the buckles that sat on her sides.

"Oh! Thank you!" She chirped, lifting her arm to make way for his fingers, naturally let her hand fall on his shoulder.

"I guess it's only fair. You don't wear armor, so you have much less undressing to do." She hummed.

He saw the heat go to Gale's cheeks, clearing his throat.

"You know, I could continue to help you. In the future." He offered, a slight waver in his tone.

Astarion had stood before his mind had spoken to his feet. Striding over.

"Gale, dearest. You'll keep her here all night. Let faster fingers attend to our friend here."

Gale held his hands up in defeat good naturedly, but he saw a bite flash across his eyes.

A silent crackling energy passed between them.

"Our pale friend is right, I'd better return to the delectable meal I've been planning."

Gale stepped away, but not before squeezing her bicep, leaving a lingering touch there.

The wizard was lucky his blood was putrid.

Well, maybe he could still rip his throat out for fun.

As soon as Gale was out of earshot Tav sighed, speaking under her breath to him.

"Well, Gale wants to fuck me now too."

"Ah, you'll have to forgive the boy. I'm sure he hasn't seen such a ravishing creature before that dusty tower. Nothing but his hand and books."

Tav gasped, trying to kick him, but he slid away from her foot easily. His fingers snapping her buckles open with flourish.

"You're the devil." She chided, but he could see the smile on the corner of her lips.

"Devilishly handsome? I agree."

The last buckle free, he lifted the breastplate over her.

She moaned, rotating her shoulders in relief. Her undershirt sticking to her skin. The white fabric wet with her efforts.

He kept his eyes above collarbone with great effort. The outline of her full breasts in his peripheral.

"Thank you, my savior." She teased, sitting down to unbuckle from her shin guards.

He was hovering and she noticed, looking up at him expectantly.

"Darling, I couldn't help but wonder why you haven't been offering me your sweet neck."

She sat back up, hand resting on her thigh. Eyes searching his.

"Sorry, I didn't think you'd want to see me after the other night." She said plainly.

"But I guess I'm a service, after all." Said with impartial truth.

"Sure, here." She offered her wrist up to him.

He blinked, on the back foot again.

Like she had scooped into him and pulled the marrow of his person out. That uncanny ability to speak his thoughts through her mouth.

No, I'm the service. Not you, sweet girl.

"Let's wait, no reason to supp from you out in the open. With so many prying hungry eyes."

He trailed the backs of his fingers along the inside of her wrist as she lowered it.

"Meet me in my tent, okay?" He hushed, his voice coming out uncharacteristically soft.

"Of course, whatever you need." She smiled.

He felt like he needed to prove something to her, but what?

He rearranged the pillows for a third time. The candle lit canvas shroud of his tent draped in as much comfort as he could find. Or steal.

Blankets and plush pillows. Enchanted lights draped along the roof, a lavender candle burning on a plate.

He sighed, this was too much. He was being silly.

"May I come in?" She whispered outside of the closed flap.

"I'd like nothing more." He crooned, sitting as casually as he could manage.

She ducked in and blinked in surprise. Eyes trailing along.

"Wow, what's the occasion?" She started getting comfortable. Pulling the pins free from her hair and shaking it down her back. Leaving her shoes in a neat line at the entrance.

Something about seeing her like this again made his heart sing. That casual intimacy that he desired in the cradle of his tent.

She kneeled down across from him, pulling her collar away from her neck. Turning her head to the side, bending open for him.

He leaned forward and gathered her into his hands, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder. Breathing in.

She could feel his need, touching his arm uncertainly.

"Are you okay, Star?" She hushed.

He slid his hand down her back, his eyes closed. Fingers mapping her into his memory.

"Just- just give me a moment." His voice coming out gravelly.

"Do you want me to get undressed?" She whispered, and he nodded into the side of her neck.

She pulled her sleep shirt over her head, his hands only leaving her to toss it far in the corner.

Sat in only the underclothes hugging her hips, she waited patiently as his eyes drank her.

The spread of her hips dipping into her waist. The round full of her breast. The soft curve of her stomach. An oil painting come to life.

"You're very comfortable in the nude." He teased, trying to jumble his thoughts back into his slack head.

"It takes practice." She smiled. "People usually don't want to see the wares stored away."

He could feel the confusion strike his face.

"What do you mean by that, darling?"

"Oh, I figured the others would have gossiped by now. Huh, good for them."

She flourished down her body. "This used to go to the highest bidder."

His hands slowed, pulling away.

"You were a sex worker?"

"What makes you think I'm not still one?" She winked, and he felt a hard shock of sudden recognition in her mannerisms. This was his playing field.

"Tav..." He paused, trying to wrestle his thoughts into a carefully picked set of kind words. She didn't need to know that part of his past yet. He could stand to pretend to be at least somewhat competent for a while longer.

"I get if that turns you off. We can go back to just feeding if you want."

"Well, what do you want?" He leaned his head, looking at her. Dead heart phantom hammering.

She seemed to consider it. "I think I like you, and I want to be near you. In whatever way that means to you."

He leaned forward, sliding on knees to reach her.

He laced his arm around her back, their lips hovered across one another. Her breath tickling his lips.

Sliding his hand down her front, he held her eyes.

A collective breath held between them, only broken as his fingers dipped into her heat.

Her eyes fluttered shut, hips tilting forward.

He pressed his forehead to hers as she rocked into him, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

She tried to reach for his trousers. He huffed out a soft no and led her hands to drape over his neck.

He looked at her with lidded eyes, pulsing his long fingers into her molten heat. Curving and catching the spongy wall.

She squirmed, gripping onto his thighs. One single breath passed between them. Speaking in panting and soft moans.

He pushed her onto her back, sliding down. His mouth coming down to lick in long stripes above his fingers.

She shuddered, head falling back. Gasping out little cries for him.

All of her sounds, her arching movements, wrapping around his mind in a haze.

He ground his erection into the bunched blankets on the tent floor.

His arousal a warm rhythm inside his body for once. The practiced working of his mouth finally put to a worthy effort.

He twisted his tongue into her, slurping and suckling. Free hand holding her in place as her hips tried to escape.

"Fuck," She hissed, gripping his hair. Legs starting to shake around his ears.

He moaned low and deep into her. His cock throbbing, hips fucking into the blankets.

"Oh fuck, Astarion. I'm-" But she was already rising off of the blankets, head wrenched back.

He followed her up, gripping her ass.

She squeaked out a few rising cries then fell apart in his hands. Tremoring rising up through her body, rippling outwards from where his mouth was still pulsing. Her head lolled, little jolts from her cunt as the creamy slick of her spend met his tongue. Lapping it in greedily.

He gasped. It rocketed against his skull like her blood. He needed more.

He hooked her thighs over his shoulders and dove back into her. Hungry. Messy. Uncontrolled. Completely cutting off his breath. He didn't need it anyway.

Her eyes shot open, moaning out.

"Oh Gods," She whimpered, bracing herself next to her head. Holding on as he took her apart.

He felt crazed, his hunger for her blood and the slick he pulled from her one and the same. The sounds coming from his lapping obscene.

Closing his eyes, he growled. Fingernails biting down into her ass. Saliva and slick dripping down his jaw.

One more hard swirling pull on her clit and she was shuddering hard, a strained moan of curses flowing from her lips. Eyes rolling back in her skull like marbles.

He yanked her towards him in anticipation, fingers rubbing hard into her clit encouragingly.

Her second wave of creamy slick met his tongue, so sweet and rich. Lighting his skull up in streaks of pleasure.

He pulled his weeping cock from his leathers and stroked with his slick soaked hand. Once, twice, and he was gone. Spurting thick ropes under his body, whimpering out pulsing cries as the pleasure wrenched out of him.

He lapped at her as long as she would allow, eventually gently pushing his head back.

"Gods below, Star. That was... that was heaven." She gasped.

He murmured in agreement, head falling into the inside of her thigh. Fingers trailing the silk of her side, the arch of her ribcage.

"Do you want me to stay?" She hushed, scratching lightly along his scalp.

He moaned softly, nodding into her.

"Come here to me." She purred, pulling him up her body. Resting his head against her chest.

The beat of her heart a steady tranquil drum. Her arms and legs tangled in his. He puddled into her, both of her hands scratching in slow lines along his skull.

For the first time in a long time, he fell into a heavy sleep.

The night passing dreamless.

#gale just like. i hate it here #astarion smut #astarion x tav #screenshot by @cheekylittlepupp #lyrics from: the garden - the crane wives

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faerievampling · 9 months ago

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Killing Time

Chapter 4: The Hunt

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Pairing: Soft Ascended Astarion x Spawn Female Tav

Word Count: 4.8k

Link to Ao3!

Warning: 18+. Explicit. Vaginal Fingering. PiV. Dom Astarion. Violence. Blood. blood drinking. Possessive behavior.

A/N: Posting early. can't believe this story is already at nearly 20k words. I hope you all enjoy. <3

Screenshot by: @cheekylittlepupp <3 <3

If you weren’t a vampire, you knew you would have been sore as all hells when you woke up. But lucky for you, the only thing that was aching was your fangs and your swollen, slick cunt.

Your night with Astarion was so sweet, tender, but now you were both craving each other. Your stomach growls as you nestle further into Astarion’s arms.

“Are you ready for what the day will bring?” Astarion reaches out, gentle as ever. You knew he had bad news for you, so he would treat you tenderly.

You sigh. “Just tell me what you’ve decided on.” Your voice is but a whisper because of your still sleeping servant, Cynthia. Your internal vampire clock tells you it’s rather early in the morning, just before the rest of the crèche will awaken.

Astarion turns on his side, pushing his hardening cock against your abdomen, rutting into you ever so lightly. He just wanted you to know he’s interested, is all.

“We must keep the feedings to twice a day. You will eat human food between those feedings.”

You move to meet his gaze; his face is still, but his eyes are round, open, and you sense his uncertainty. You place a hand to his chest, eyes widening to a girlish stare you knew he loved.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Astarion quips at you, but his tone is hushed, tender, loving, and you know he very much does like when you beg. “I’m serious, Tav.”

You bat your eyelashes. “Then don’t be serious. Tell me you're joking.”

“Be my sweet girl and don’t fight me on this, love.” Astarion pleads before pressing his lips to yours.

When he deepens the kiss, you catch his lip with your fang, lapping at the crimson that flowers from the wound before healing. Astarion grabs your jaw, his grasp firm, your cheeks between his fingers and thumb.

Behind his ruby eyes is a burning furnace of passion for you. His consort. His wife. His eternal lover.

His movements are quick, his fangs gently sinking into the taunt flesh of your neck. His cock is begging to be freed, but Astarion can only rub it against you as he drinks you in.

He’s only sipping on you, just wanting a taste of what is his.

When he pulls away, his eyes are wild, and he swiftly re-adjusts to nestle you to his own neck, where you waste no time sinking your fangs into him.

You bite down rather hard, causing Astarion to gasp, which only excites you further. Your hand has mindlessly found its way to his cock, and you’re stroking it through his clothing as you drink him in.

With one hand settled into the root of your hair, Astarion grips the curve of your hip, nails digging into your skin.

“Be quiet.” His voice rings out so fast in your mind that you barely register it before you feel Astarion’s hand between your thighs.

Instinctively, you lift one leg, draping it over Astarion’s hip as his fingers move past the waistband of your panties, stuffing a finger inside you effortlessly. Your hand flies to cup his jaw, your senses on fire.

He inserts another finger into you on his next stroke, and your body is already vibrating at the sensation. Astarion already knows where he wants to be and reaches into your depths, behind your throbbing clitorus, to that sweet tender spot inside you.

You mewl a bit before Astarion hushes you. When his thumb begins to circle your swollen nub, he has you creaming around him almost instantaneously, and you feel absolutely fucking incredible between your orgasm and his blood.

As you’re seeing stars, clenching around Astarion’s handsome, dexterous fingers, his half of your shared connection envelopes you: he’s savoring your orgasm, riding along the folds of your mind as you feed and come. Sharing in your exhilaration only makes him adore you more.

“Oh, my darling…” Astarion presses his cheek into you, his hands continuing to explore your body as you gently hum against him, careful not to tear his skin with your fangs.

When you finally unlatch, you both begin to sense the stirring of the crèche.

Astarion’s imagination is going wild at all the ways he wants to fuck you. His cock still rocking against you, desperate for release.

“Don’t worry about me, my love. We will find time for you to fully satiate me soon. You can count on it. I’ll be buried in your cunt soon enough.” Astarion is teasing, still touching your sensitive folds as you try to squirm away from him, the overstimulation of your clit being too much.

You certainly felt better after your orgasm and feeding, but you’re still upset at the sudden reality of the prospect that you wouldn’t be able to feed whenever you wanted or sip on blood and wine all day.

You knew this would happen, of course, when you accepted Lae’zel’s quest.

But still, actually living it was different than knowing it was going to happen. There has been no real way to prepare yourself, so you do your best to gather your thoughts and stay focused.

Cynthia wakes as you are helping Astarion with his complicated camp gear, which he insisted on wearing. He looked absolutely stunning in his black, fitted ensemble that boasts his gorgeous, muscular arms.

You went for something more simple, but more modest than the strappy camp clothes you arrived in.

If the gith warriors were to act like that around people of different races, then you felt it was up to you to change their perspective. But you wouldn’t let them gawk any longer. No, you would dominate and evolve their perspective of your race and vampires like yourself with your raw power, talent, and dark beauty.

And, you say to yourself, wanting to continue this little pep talk, I will dominate my bloodlusts.

“You look lovely, my lady,” Cynthia says to you genuinely, and you almost smile.

“Thank you, sweet Cynthia,” She looks crestfallen at your reply, like a woman mad from her unrequited love. She dare not speak to Astarion directly, but you’re sure that she thinks him lovely as well.

You and Astarion walk to the War Room, down the twisting halls of the spire. Astarion takes your hand in his: he’s already thumbing a ring as you begin to share in the pit in his stomach.

“Why are you nervous?”

“You shouldn’t worry about it.” Astarion would say no more, which you were ultimately fine with. He always told you about the important things.

The two of you make it on time, finding seats next to each other at the rounded table in the center of the room. You swear Astarion is puffing his chest out, his broad shoulders seemingly wider than usual.

Elan began the meeting, but you could hardly focus as Astarion’s hand was gripping yours. Elan speaks for a while before addressing the two of you.

“Ancuíns, you will have the pleasure of meeting your warriors today…” Astarion’s pain begins to seep into you through your bond. Elan kept talking to the both of you, unaware of the inner turmoil. You’re now gripping Astarion’s hand back; he half-heartedly tries to tell you not to worry, but it’s hardly your fault.

“…the hunt. It is a tradition of this very crèche, and its boon will allow us to properly prepare for the beginning celebrations in the coming days.”

Astarion simply nods before the two of you meet each other's gaze simultaneously. The issues of the crèche fall away as the pain suddenly subsides.You see a flicker of wetness in Astarion’s eyes. Blinking it away before anyone else could notice, Astarion confirms what was just felt: “One of our spawn is dead.”

The rendezvous went on for some time; Astarion kept his hand in yours, his fingers musing with your jewelry and your nails.

“So refined. So beautiful.” Astarion is trying to decide what to do. He wasn’t scared, but a silent terror was building inside you. You tucked it away, imagining that’s what Astarion would do if he felt fear: you simply don’t.

***

The gith warriors you were set to command stood before you: ten young women and men. All traditionally trained in the art of war.

“They are yours, Tav.”

You look to Lae’zel, and then to Astarion, who is standing before his own ten soldiers. Astarion considers them only for a moment before his mind shifts back to lewd thoughts of you: you, bent over just enough for him to see the sweet, pink folds of your inviting cunt and your tight ring of muscle. He loved the way your arousal smelled, and your scent in general, which was distinctly of him.

He was a part of your very essence, your very birth, and you knew your darling will always be part of you: he had connected the two of you in the most intimate way, and had never regretted it. You were his. Your future was his to decide, and there were only two rules that you were truly beholden to, with a few minor provisions, of course.

The words Astarion first heard so long ago ring out in your shared mind matter: thou shalt not leave my side, thou shalt know that thou art mine.

There was once a time where Astarion mocked Cazador for stealing Vellioth’s rules.

“Tav, attention!” Lae’zel spats at you, breaking you out of your brief trance. You can tell a few of your warriors are trying not to smile. “They are expecting an introduction.”

Astarion is watching you, anticipating what you will say.

“I need not. They already know who I am.” You look away from Lae’zel, deciding to put on a cock show for your beloved. “Are there not statues of me throughout the realms? Famous poems, songs, smut?” You’re posing a bit, a seductive smile on your face as your vampiric charm graces the room: this was the easiest way to get them to obey. The more exposed to the charms the mortal is, the weaker they become. You and Astarion called this vampire insurance.

Your warriors are young, already blushing from your charms.

“You are a natural, my love.”

“Tch. Insufferable.” Lae’zel leers, clearly well protected from your manipulations, prompting Astarion to commend her for trying to protect herself. He always found a way, if compulsion was required. “You agree to come here, to help me, and yet you refuse to take this seriously.”

“It’s ten warriors, Lae’zel. My darling can manage just fine.” Astarion said confidently, because he knew you were more likely to eat them alive than anything else.

“Just say something, Tav.” Lae’zel is practically begging you now. “Go on.”

“Alright,” You say with a sigh. You’re silent for a while. “I was never good at doing this formally. Uh, at ease, please.” You smile awkwardly at your little rhyme, but it doesn’t translate well on your terrifying face.

You poke into the mind of the young lady standing in front of you. She’s scared of you, more so than she is of Vlaakith’s army.

You take a deep breath, moving your fingers and toes as you try to animate yourself. “I’m sorry if I frighten you.” You weren’t all that sorry, because you liked it. But if Lae’zel wanted you to take this seriously, then you needed to level with them, to know them and be a team.

You realize that has never really left you: that natural leader within.

“You can call me Tav. Lae’zel will insist on Sarth Ancunín, which sounds awful to me. My husband,” You look over to your gorgeous darling standing next to you, a smile on his pretty face as he gives you his undivided attention, which you loved. “Will likely insist on calling me Lady Ancunín, at the very least. But I insist you call me Tav.”

The warriors visibly relax, but you still sense their lingering fear.

You breathe again, and also remember to blink. “We are to participate in the hunt today. I, uh, welcome any comments or questions you may have.”

“Tav,” A boy speaks from the back, behind the still trembling young lady at the front. “I am Zii’ro. They say you are thousands of years old.”

“Yes. I am.”

Zii’ro stifles a smile. You can sense he has questions, which you aren’t opposed to answering, but the look he was getting from Lae’zel ensured he kept his mouth shut.

They look so young.

“They don’t appear any older than you, my love,” Astarion muses, the thought bringing you a fair amount of pleasure. Who wouldn’t want to be young and beautiful forever?

Astarion is so glad you agree.

“Ah. No wonder so many of the gith think that I’m just your young little plaything instead of your wife.” You respond to your husband; Astarion looked nearly fifteen, maybe twenty, years your senior, a fact he did not like upon first realizing.

You had forgotten just how young you were when he turned you.

“It wasn’t long after your coming of age year, my love.” Astarion spoke, answering the question that was on everyone’s mind.

Lae’zel snorts. “Practically an eternal teenager.”

“We’re all adults here, Lae’zel. Including these little warriors,” Astarion sweeps his eyes over the twenty gith standing before you. “Don’t be fooled by her appearance. My darling is an ancient vampire. The two hundred years between us hardly mean a thing, anymore.” Astarion has a big, menacing smile on his face.

“Nothing could ever stand against us, Tav.”

It wasn’t until Lae’zel told you that the two of you would be separated when you started to feel a silent panic. Lae’zel wanted you to leave his side, to command your soldiers alone, to see your capabilities in the field.

Astarion immediately begins to protest. He quickly becomes angry with Lae’zel for even suggesting that he’d ever leave his consort alone on a strange continent with even stranger people.

“This is out of the question!” Astarion sneered. “You’ve not known me recently, Lae’zel, but do you really think I would be okay with this? Abandoning my wife?”

“It would hardly be abandonment, Astarion. The man I once knew was one who would’ve let Tav choose for herself.” Lae’zel crossed her arms, her gait wide, relaxed. She wasn’t afraid of Astarion: not in her domain, anyways.

Astarion really doesn’t like this. His eyes narrow, his stare intense as he tries to unnerve the gith woman.

But Lae’zel is looking to you. As they’ve been arguing, you’ve been squaring yourself with having to actually leave Astaron’s side. You’re scared, but you remember why you’re here.

Fear never stopped me before, you think to yourself before directing your thoughts to your pale lover. “Is this not the very reason why we have our connection, Astarion?”

The two of you have now blocked out all others: any notion of the outside world has been lost to you. Locked in an intense stare, you can only wonder what the two of you looked like to mortals.

You go back and forth. Someone gasps when the two of you show fang at one another.

“You’re my wife. You do as I say. I know you’re strong, darling, but we can't risk it. I won’t allow that much distance between us. We’ve never been so far apart.” Astarion’s excuses were endless. You never realized how quickly Astarion’s mind would jump to isolating you in the boudoir whenever there was a disagreement between the two of you.

You hadn’t ever argued this much before.

You hiss, but Astarion has an intense look in his eyes, nearly making you cower. But you don’t back down. After what feels like a lifetime to the mortals, Astarion comes to a decision.

“You will take Ruth with you.” Astarion says, frustrated by his lack of control of the situation. He’s trying to brush it off, but it’s hard for him. Between this, and the death of the spawn that he was decidedly ignoring, Astarion was doing his best to keep it together.

You tried to comfort him, to go to him and wrap your arms around him, but now was hardly the time.

“Just come back in one piece.” Astarion’s voice is as intense as his stare.

***

The enchanted forest was ethereally dark, beautiful and scary; nonetheless, your warriors followed you into the thicket. It took you a while of hiking before you could see the crèche in its glorious entirety.

The Crystalline Spire was far more gorgeous than what you or Astarion could have imagined. Jutting from the ground, the crystal stood straight from the ground, the outside of its walls smooth and milky. It glittered and towered far beyond what even seemed natural, only adding to its ethereal nature.

“It could almost hold a flame to you, my consort.”

“It is breathtaking.” You say.

“We take great pride in its beauty,” Zii’ro replied from behind you. When you turned around, your group was admiring you, admiring the spire.

You could sense Astarion was already on the hunt: his senses greater than yours, he had a wider radius and quicker reflexes. But you aren’t so inferior to the Vampire Ascendant: you were a formidable vampire yourself.

Your senses perk up: you hear the rustling of the leaves, the faint beat of a heart, and you zip away faster than your warriors could keep up. Ruth stayed close, silently lingering behind you, eyes never leaving you.

“Hey!” You hear, already in the distance, one of them calling out to you. Shit. You had to go back.

“We’re supposed to do this together,” Zii’ro explained.

Chae shook her head. “We can’t even hear what she’s running for.”

“Oh,” You say, having to stew on this for a little. “Well, follow me then. I’ll go slow, so you can keep up.”

They follow, and you take them running through the thicket. You can hear the rise of their heartbeats, unable to really become a plateau from a brisk jog; the forest was untamed, the ground having no clear path, and you were practically jumping.

You consider taking your bat form, but that would be against the spirit of the game. You think Astarion has done this, or something similar; because if this was a contest (you weren’t even sure, you hadn’t listened or asked, realizing maybe your lack of attention was becoming a problem) Astarion was going to win.

Maybe he’d let you win, if he was feeling generous. But you decide you’re determined to get something more out of this than a win.

That light in you still remembers.

It wasn’t until you came upon your prey that your human mind, your conscious mind, was forgotten: gone is any pretense that you’re anything but a vampire. A monster. A natural hunter in the night.

One of your archers, Quinel, draws the first blood.

You feel yourself slip away, but it happens so quickly it makes you writhe with frustration. Your warriors engage with the monster: its large, snake-like body towered over you. You notice it has feathers, despite its reptilian appearance.

You claw, you bite, thick hot blood dripping down your chin and neck, but the monster doesn’t go down. It bites at Chae, who drops her weapon with a yelp, crying as she realizes she’s stuck in its jaws.

The fear on her face makes you want to devour her next, but something about her reminds you of an old friend, an old lover, Lae’zel, and it brings you back to reality just enough to grab onto the monster's jaws.

Each hand is jutting into the teeth of the monster, your blood flowing freely in its mouth, but you don’t care; you’ll heal almost instantaneously, anyways.

The monster is strong but no match for your determined strength. After a moment of you using your might, the monster's jaw is wretched apart, cracking at the joints as the monster howls in pain.

Zii’ro has plunged his sword into the mouth of the creature as Chae is pulled out of its jaws. One last yelp of life is screeched from its stinking maw before it hits the ground.

You already hear another beast, and you’re back in the hunt, ready for more.

***

You couldn’t begin to tell Astarion and Lae’zel what the hell happened on your hunt. But you return to the spire drunk, drenched in animal blood, having gorged yourself on a variety of wildlife. The hot, sticky crimson wasn’t nearly as delicious as intelligent blood, but there was a lot of it, which you are a fan of. It drenched your leathers, your throat and jaw, even your hair.

Astarion, standing at the entrance to the spire, looked immaculate as he narrowed his eyes at you. But you can only laugh at his handsome, pouty face.

Your warriors followed you, equally covered in blood and guts. They prattle and grunt behind you, Chae hobbling along despite her injuries. You were too incapacitated to focus on what they were thinking: but half of them looked rather amused, and the other half looked angry.

You looked around yourself, realizing you didn’t even have a weapon on you. Shit. You must have abandoned it during your frenzy.

Astarion is immediately scanning your memories, your brain, having preoccupied himself during the hunt. Looking over to where his warriors are at, you realize they brought back several animals, and your team had none.

“You clearly enjoyed your hunt. Have you not brought back any game?” Lae’zel asks tentatively. You are hardly listening to her, because you’re focused on your ambivalent husband.

You could feel his upset. You tried to weave through it, but you are still caught up in your bloodlust. You giggle when he takes you by the arms and pulls you into him, studying your face as he closes in on you.

“Don’t be mad, my darling.”

“Don’t be mad,” You repeat aloud, giving him a little smile to try to butter him up.

It wasn’t until Lae’zel and the other soldiers were out of hearing distance that Astarion spoke.

“Well…you’ve ruined that darling outfit I bought you,” He says, his voice low.

Astarion is deciding how to react to this: he doesn’t like it, but it doesn’t necessarily break any of his rules, and he thought you looked rather beautiful covered in blood.

But he decidedly did not like you drinking animal blood. “Come, my wife. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

***

Astarion remembers you just a few days after the defeat of the Netherbrain: writhing beneath him, utterly breathless and beautiful, even dizzy, from all the orgasms he had given you. You had fought him, only a little, before submitting and allowing him to ravish you again.

He wanted you all to himself for a little bit, before all the work began: the two of you were going on day two of the indeterminate amount of time Astarion decided you would stay at the hotel in the Upper City.

You were worried about him, which he thought was rather sweet. You were also a little afraid of him, which turned him on even more than he anticipated.

The fucking was instinctual, animalistic. When Raphael had told him the ‘appetites of man’ would return to him, he couldn’t have ever imagined how desperate his cock would be for you.

With the tadpole gone, Astarion’s powers were growing dramatically. His body was changing, his strength increasing, his entire state of mind and being was changing.

He made you a part of him, now. You were his, he was yours, and he needn’t be ashamed of pleasuring himself and his darling. He could nestle himself in your body and mind, and know that it was just the two of you: him and the only person he ever loved. The thoughts of disgust and loathing were kept at bay, only when he was with you. Only you.

Astarion had you in a mating press, pushing your thighs back as far as they’d go. He had already come inside you once, and he watched as his thick white come billowed out of you.

The sight was delicious.

“This is amazing,” Astarion had laughed, pushing his cock into you deeply, hips banging against pelvis. His tip kissed your cervix, which is exactly where he wanted to be: as deeply nestled within you as he possibly could. “It’s never felt this fucking good before!”

You whined and mewled beneath him, begging him to both stop and continue your torturous pleasure. But if you didn’t know what you wanted, Astarion would decide for you.

“Haha! I can’t believe this is all mine!” Astarion hadn’t been able to contain his excitement. When you flutter your sweet cunt around him, Astarion plants a confident kiss to your lips, bringing his hand down to idly play with your swollen nub.

“The palace, the wealth, the power, even you. All mine.”

Astarion tightens his grip on your neck as he bites down on your shoulder. He doesn’t ask, because he doesn’t need to, and he wants it to hurt.

When you yelp at the pain of his bite, before descending into moans, it makes his cock feel so filled with blood that he only wished he could devour you further; to make you his all over again. It had been the best fucking godsdamned feeling in the world, turning you into a vampire.

As he felt the mind numbing effects of his impending orgasm, his thrusts becoming uneven and sloppy, Astarion concluded that this was the best place to train you. You’d be an obedient little wife if he kept you fucked out and full of his cock; he just knew it. It was what was best for you, anyways.

He repositions you, lifting your hips up on his thighs, where he starts to rut into you: it’s too deep, it’s too much, and he knows it.

You start to push him away, trying to close your thighs to prevent his intrusion.

“Oh, my love,” Astarion muses, capturing your wrists with one hand, using his other to force your thighs open.

“Please…“ You had begged—but in your mind, you told him to give it to you. You wanted all of him, and Astarion loved this so much, his heart swelled to proportions previously unknown to him, and he was a man maddened with lust, with love, for his sweet wife.

And there was something about making his sweet wife, the strong leader of the group, so submissive and needy for him…

With that, Astarion’s powerful mind flits to another memory; he would never forget your face when he asked you to kneel for him in front of the others.

A guilt fills Astarion’s chest, a feeling he was no stranger to, but it pissed him off. He hadn’t initially thought of it as humiliation, and had been surprised when you told him why you had stopped asking him for kisses in public.

You were so delicate, so beautiful, and it was both the reason why he was desperate to protect you and keep you by his side, and why he wanted to dominate you.

He’d especially never forget how you looked when you obeyed. He was so happy.

Now, seeing his consort covered in the blood of lesser creatures, he couldn’t ignore the shifting visions of the past that flit across his mind.

He decides the best punishment for you was to stretch you out with his cock and take his pleasure in you, just as he had decided two thousand years ago. He plans to leave you breathless and desperate with no intention of making you come.

He imagines withholding your orgasm from you, leaving you covered in his slick seed. Yes, my consort hates being denied. He’d command you to push his semen back inside your wet, sloppy entrance, pleasuring yourself while coated in his essence.

He knew he probably wouldn’t be able to go through with it. He loved making you come too much, but he certainly enjoyed the thought.

Astarion scrubs your skin with the washcloth, the flakes of dried blood stubborn even with hot water and soap. “What am I to do with you, my love?”

“I tried. I participated. I tried to be what they wanted.” Astarion senses your hurt, your confusion.

He brings a hand to your jaw, drawing you to face him. Astarion sighs before he speaks, giving you a little smile. “It’s alright, love. I don’t like it, but I’m not angry with you. It’s only your nature.”

Astarion sighs when you smile, relief washing over him as the fog of your upset dissipates from his assuring words. Once you’re clean, Astarion is next, and soon, the two of you are wrapped up in each other once more, taking the opportunity to adore each other after a long day.

Astarion wants you to be quiet, even when he finally slides his swollen, needy cock inside you. You’re so perfect, Astarion wants to stay here forever, just like this with you.

He keeps his cock in you for a while as he captures your lips with his own.

“You are my everything.”

Masterlist

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

#astarion smut #soft ascended astarion #ascended!astarion #ascended astarion #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #spawn tav #ascended astarion x tav #ascended!astarion x tav #ascended!astarion x reader #ascended astarion x reader #Killing Time

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