#soft Astarion is my favourite
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I'm unable to figure out a background and it's been a wip for too long so here we are, astarion with my tav
#art#digital art#my art#artists on tumblr#oc#bg3 astarion#astarion#anyways my favourite wet cat man#oc : ilicyr#astarion x tav#bg3 tav#tav#bg3 art#my tav#mane i really love how her butterfly wings turned out#also astarions hair looks so soft#my babiiiiiiies
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His gaze softened and a slight and warm smile crept onto his lips.
Baldur's Gate III | ▶ dev. Larian Studios
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18+ knuckle up | astarion x reader
summary: after a drunken night and a dumb bet you're left in an emotional (and physical) chokehold by your favourite vampire companion.
pairing: astarion ancunin x afab!bard!reader tags: 18+, smut, fluff, switch dynamics, m/f, fingering, unprotected sex, resolved tension, playfighting, sex after training session. word count: 7.8k notes: this fic was SO fun to write even if im a gale girlie myself. this is my first attempt at writing ANY bg3 character, so i really hope i did okay. if not, let me know! comments help me improve my writing (and warm my heart, seriously, thanks to anyone taking the time out of their day to comment). anyways gang, no beta as ALWAYS, you know how we roll. ENJOY! masterlist.
It still made little sense to you.
You had honed your skills at the most prestigious music schools in Faerûn for years, pouring your heart into every note, every chord, only to find yourself shamelessly ridiculed for an entirely different kind of performance. And by a man you’d grown to like, no less.
"Get up, darling," Astarion’s voice drips with amusement, the self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips with infuriating smugness. His crimson eyes watch you with a predatory glint, locking onto your vulnerable form sprawled in the dirt—a definitive result of his frustratingly agile moves.
You groan lowly, propping yourself up on bruised elbows, wincing as a dull ache pulses through your body. A stray lock of hair falls in front of your face, and you blow it away in frustration.
"I’m starting to think this isn’t educational at all." You glare at him with all the venom you can muster, eyebrows furrowed as his arms cross.
Your eyes absentmindedly scan down his body, taking note of his slightly disheveled shirt and tousled hair. He looks… good. Beautiful, even. Basking in the soft moonlight seeping through the vast greenery above, he stands there like he’s in his element.
He chuckles, seemingly unbothered by your vapid tone. "Oh, but it is, my dear. Think of it as a new, humbling experience. Valuable in its own right."
You bite back a retort as he offers you a hand, his expression making your eye twitch. You never thought you’d fall for arrogance, yet ironically it’s your own conceit that might have brewed your upcoming downfall.
After a particularly boisterous night of drinking in camp—brought on by the recent victory over a pack of gnolls—you foolishly accepted Astarion’s challenge to best him in hand-to-hand combat. Your alcohol-addled brain had been more confident than your body, and now, after a series of harsh jabs and sidesteps, you were being taught the harsh reality of “real” combat.
Defeated, you eventually obliged a quick lesson from the master himself, which he had (admittedly suspiciously) made you take after losing your bet.
At the very least, the bruising would rid you of your lingering hangover once you were done taking the thrashing. Plus, you hoped it would bring you two closer. Figuratively and physically.
He raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your hesitation. "Come now, my dear, don’t be so stubborn. You seemed so eager at first,"
"You told me you’d teach me to fight, not fall on my damn face," you lament, but begrudgingly accept his help, allowing him to pull you to your feet.
His grip is firm, and the coolness of his skin sends a small jolt of electricity down your spine. You had often imagined what holding his hand would feel like during the colder nights alone in your tent, and while the circumstances ended up being less than ideal, it was good enough for you. For now.
You rub at your sore arm with a frown and catch that Astarion, unmistakably, stands completely unscathed, his pale complexion almost glowing in the ambient light.
"I’m thinking…” he muses, glancing at the weathered lyre resting peacefully by the roots of a tree. His lips curl into a smirk, and you can feel the teasing jab sting your pride. “Perhaps you’re better suited to the more... delicate aspects of life,"
Your jaw clenches. While bards famously went underestimated— a fact you were reminded of frequently— it hurt more coming from someone you so badly wanted to fuck.
"Oh, I don’t know," you say with a saccharine tone, brushing the residual dirt from your pants; your favorite pair, yet you’d probably end up having to toss them out after your poor performance today. "I think a harp string could make a fine garrote in the right hands."
Astarion’s laughter rings out clearly, and your heart skips a beat unbeknownst to you. "Dully noted. Fortunately for the both of us, we’re stripped of any weaponry in our current pinnacle."
Your eyes roll, running a hand through your disheveled, sweat-slick hair and adjusting your posture to the one he had taught you: one foot forward, back straight.
"Again," you demand, squaring your shoulders. If he wanted to mock you, fine— but you wouldn’t go down without a proper fight.
Astarion’s eyes widen, but his smirk never falters. He sighs in faux exasperation but quickly matches your posture. "So eager to be tossed into the dirt again, darling."
Your face flashes with heat at his painfully languid remark, your mind going places it probably shouldn’t. You knew the pet names were simply an inherent part of his vocabulary and that he used them generously, with everyone, yet a part of you liked to imagine they were reserved for you, and you only.
“Try me again,” you reply curtly, lowering your gaze as you feel the tension sprawling through your aching body.
He shoots you an arrogant smirk, his gaze penetrating your soul with an intensity you didn’t think possible. He bares his fangs, licking over his bottom lip lazily. “Let’s see it, then.”
Astarion approaches, but this time, you’re ready. As he moves to close the distance, you anticipate the first jab, ducking low before he can catch you off-guard. You dart to the side, aiming a swift thrust toward his midsection. It’s clumsy and unpracticed, but it seems to work.
Your fist connects with his toned stomach. He topples off-balance, but only for a fleeting second. His reflexes are too sharp, too honed through his century-long life for you to overcome with your pitiful attempt.
He catches himself with a graceful pivot, turning the stumble into a curt spin that has him facing you once more.
"Fast learner, are we?" he muses, watching you closely through his fists. "I might actually have to try now."
"Don’t flatter yourself," you shoot back, heart racing. At that moment, you recognize you can’t win. Not this time, probably not the next. But you don’t want to forfeit, even if it means enduring a day or two of terrible muscle soreness.
Every sidestep, every deflected blow, brings you closer, the air between you growing heavy with static. You aren’t sure if it’s the heat of the fight or the dangerous proximity, but you can feel it—an irresistible, undeniable pull.
"Careful now," Astarion purrs as you barely miss his face with a rugged swing. He catches your wrist, holding it tight as he leans in, breath ghosting over your ear. "You wouldn’t want to harm me, would you?"
You swallow hard, your body tensing under his tight grip. The closeness is intoxicating, but you force yourself to stay focused, pushing back against the growing heat in your chest.
"Maybe I would." You don’t.
For a moment, neither of you move. The world seems to narrow, the charged atmosphere thick with tacit suspense. You can feel your pulse hammering in your throat, senses sharp, attuned to every breath he takes as they intermingle with yours.
"Darling," a dramatic pout creeps onto his lips, only to be replaced by a sly grin seconds later. You feel his grip on your wrist loosening just enough for you to slip free. It’s a calculated move, once he grants you himself. "You wound me with your words."
You take a step back, breathless. This isn’t over, not by a long shot, yet your muscles fight against that thought. They scream at you with pain, worn and stretched by what feels like hours of sparring.
“Sounds like you’re the one trying to wound me,” you taunt, shooting him a lowered gaze. “Why’d you take me out here? Trying to make your next kill less obvious?”
The vampire had insisted you two train away from the bustle of camp, even if it meant missing out on tonight’s feast. While the rest of your companions enjoyed the finest ale Baldur’s Gate could offer, you were stuck trying to prove something to your crush.
Astarion's grin widens, his eyes flashing with amusement as he takes a slow, calculated step forward. “Now, now,” he purrs, voice dripping with mock innocence. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have seen it coming— no need for childish theatrics.”
You hold his gaze, refusing to let him see the slight tremble in your legs from the strain of the sparring—or maybe it’s from something else entirely, you can’t be sure. You know he’s dangerous, that this game you’ve been playing with him has always had its sharp edges. But there’s something about that edge, about the way he dances so easily between teasing and threatening, that weakens your knees and makes you breathless every damn time.
"Then why are we here?" you challenge, taking a step back to match his forward one. Your voice is steady, but your pulse is hammering in your throat. The woods feel like a world apart from camp, the sounds of chatter distant as you sit in your isolated little bubble of the world. “It’s a little… intimate, don’t you think?”
Astarion tilts his head, studying you with a curious twinkle in his crimson eyes. “That sharp tongue again,” he says quietly, “Do you truly believe I’d go through all the trouble of bringing you out here just to end you? If I wanted your death, I’d make it enjoyable for both of us.”
Your breath catches at his words. His words drip with venom, but somewhere deep down, in the depths of his blackened heart, you swear you feel an instance of temptation.
“What’s the game then?” you ask, holding his gaze despite the anxiety twisting in your chest. “Because by the Gods, I know you love those.”
Astarion’s smirk softens, but the intensity in his eyes never falters. He steps closer again, until there’s barely any space between you, his presence intoxicating. “Maybe I just wanted to see what you’re capable of,” he murmurs, his voice low and velvety. “Maybe I wanted to see how far you’d let me push you before you push back.”
His hand hovers near yours, fingers brushing lightly against your skin, but he doesn’t make full contact.
“And maybe,” he continues, leaning in just enough that his breath grazes your cheek, “I’m curious what could happen once we both stop playing.”
Your heart is racing now, and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the sparring or the charged air between you that’s making your head spin a hundred miles an hour.
“You’ll never know,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with a boldness you don’t quite feel. “Because I’m not backing down from this.”
His grin widens at your rebellion, and with a swift, fluid motion, the man’s playful smirk turns into a vicious one. Before you can react, he spins you around, movements smooth and practiced, making you lose your balance.
Your back hits his chest, and within seconds he wraps one arm around your neck in a tight headlock— his grip is firm, but not painful. Your mind strays to his other arm, feeling it press against your waist to keep you securely against him.
“Such a feisty little thing,” he purrs into your ear, his breath warm against your sweat-slick skin.
You struggle against his hold, trying to twist free, but his grip is relentless. “Fuck you,” you manage to scowl, though the words are strained by the pressure on your throat.
Astarion chuckles softly, and you feel it reverberate through your body. “Oh, she bites back,” he teases, his voice a dark, seductive buzz. “Are you taunting me, darling?”
You try to shift your weight, to find a way out of the headlock, but his grip doesn’t waver. “You’re projecting,” you growl breathlessly.
“And you’re persistent,” he replies, “Suits you well.”
You feel a warmth spread through your belly, tickling your nerve endings and making your thighs squeeze. You thank the Gods he can’t see your flustered face right now.
And suddenly, he releases. Not fully, but his grip weakens enough to allow you a moment to slip out again, stumbling over your own feet as you face him.
“Here’s your second freebie,” he chuckles, getting into position again. “Careful, next one might come at a price.”
“Like I need a third one,”
You recalibrate, then in the spur of the moment, pounce. Your arms extend as they barrel toward him. His eyes widen, but he manages to catch them mid-air; his hands clasping into yours and pushing against you.
“Fair strategy,” he commends, and you sense it might at least be partially earnest. “Desperate, but fair.”
You strain against him, breath hitching when he periodically pushes back. Whenever he does, you feel his gaze boring into you with a crazed intensity.
Then, you try not to think about the fact your digits fit together really damn well— and fail. Take what you can get, right?
“What’s wrong, my dear?” he sneers, slender fingers tightening around your palm. He leans in, your chests threatening to collide. “Getting distracted?”
You grit your teeth, leaning in with your full body weight, but he barely budges. “You wish,” you shoot back breathlessly.
“I feel it,” he corrects in a whisper, leaning in just enough that his lips hover dangerously close to your ear. “It’s in your eyes. You’re not even thinking about our little lesson anymore, are you?”
Your breath hitches at his words, the undoubted truth in them cutting through the haze in your mind. He’s right. The bet, your lesson —somewhere along the lines, your sparring posture went lax. All that matters to you now is the palpable closeness, your hands in his, and his hot, idle breath on your neck. Your throat threatens to cast a strained groan, but you withhold.
“I—” you start to protest, but your voice falters. His chest is now pressed flush against yours, pushing you forward.
“Admit it,” he murmurs, his voice low, seductive. “And I’ll let you win.”
Your hands tremble in the small space they lock with his, the smoldering red of his gaze telling you he knows exactly what he’s doing—how his actions leave you a mess in body and soul.
“I won’t, I— I can’t,” you manage to stutter, but the words sound weak and unconvincing even to your own weary ears.
He chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through you like a slow current. “Liar,” he whispers, and you catch a glimpse of his pearly fangs in your hazed peripherals. “Not a good one, either. Another thing I should school you on.”
Your eyes roll, but the implication accelerates the growing tension within your guts. “Just how generous you are.”
His head tilts gradually, and you go pale as you catch his tongue running along the length of his bottom lip.
“No, darling,” he purrs, “I haven’t shown you generous just yet.”
And then, you catch his eyes darkening. There’s a certain mania to them when they widen, pupils blown out like a cat’s when he suddenly pushes firmly against you. Your feet stumble backward, staring into him as a wild grin plasters on his face.
You yelp when you lose balance, lips ajar and eyes closed shut as you feel your back crash into something soft, or at least, soft enough to leave you un-bruised.
When your eyes flutter open, he’s on top of you. You study his broad shoulders, the pale neck between them, and finally let your half-lidded gazes connect in a silent, tension-filled juncture.
The ambiance of dusk quiets down to a soft murmur, crickets chirping in the distance as his strong body hovers inches above you, hands placed firmly around your wrists to successfully lock you in place.
“Seems to me you’ve lost our little bet,” he purrs out, and your breath hitches as one of his legs slides between yours, slowly inching to put a distance between your knees.
All you can do is stare up at him hungrily, desperately, drinking in his weathered features and pray he’d let you run your fingers through his flaxen locks at some point in the night.
“No clever retort? That’s not the little bard I know and love,” he teases, and your hips almost buck into him at that one word. You know he doesn’t mean it, yet your teeth still clench when your body jolts in response to his familiar lilt.
“You’re playing dirty,” you finally breathe out, cringing at how strained your voice sounds as you lie under his weight.
“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” he retorts, his crimson gaze boring into you before gradually disappearing into your neck.
His lips hover over your skin, hot breath tickling the soft spot near your pulse point as you gasp quietly. You feel him hesitate, arms tensing and releasing over your own as if soaked in apprehension. You strain your muscles, eyes shutting in preparation for the inevitable, sharp bite coming onto your poor vein. Gods, was this his plan all along?
But then, you feel the grip on your wrists loosen.
Your eyes flutter open, and you quickly catch the tousled white locks in your neck as the vampire looms over you.
“Here’s your chance to run,” he hitches, and somehow he sounds just as out of breath as you do.
You lie on the blanket of moss, chest heaving and gaze tracing languidly over the treeline as you feel your body go limp. He’s giving you one last opt-out before… before something happens, be it a bloody massacre or... Or?
Your mind shrieks at you: take advantage, prove yourself on top in this stupid bet— but the little voice in your heart urges you to stay under his firm body; find out if your instincts rang true after all.
You stay. Not only that, but you let your hands slip out of his, one of them snaking down his shoulder while the other runs through his waves. They’re silky, and soft, and when you catch a whiff of rosemary in the air, your grip tightens.
“Astarion,” you whisper, voice surprisingly steady as your heart beats a constant rhythm into the space between you.
His body jerks abruptly, albeit subtly, and you feel him smirking— smiling— into the soft flesh of your neck. “So I was right, after all.”
His face withdraws from you slightly, the residual condensation of his warm breath leaving you shivering. You catch his gaze, half-lidded and scanning your expression with apt concentration.
“Feisty, spirited little thing,” he continues, inching towards you again.
Your stiff body jerks, grazing against him as your shaky hand snakes to his cheek. You cradle it gently but with urgency, and there’s a beat of silence before you finally understand what to do.
You inhale softly, catch his questioning gaze, and crash your lips onto his.
He groans softly when you meet in the middle, lowering himself with his arms. Your chest thrums with the beat of your heart, shooting waves of dopamine down your worn spine.
When you feel his nimble hand on your jaw, your lips part with a sigh. He matches your buzz with his own self-satisfied murmur, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb.
You smile. He’s sweet and bitter, and you whine gently into the kiss when you recognize brandy on his tongue.
This is what you’ve been waiting for all these lonesome months.
The culmination dawns on you like a powerful current, making your eyes squeeze and your hands tremble in his waves.
He seems to notice your tremor, but instead of slowing down or (Gods forbid) stopping, he dives deeper. You moan into his mouth as he wriggles a hand around your waist, holding you close to his hips and suddenly, you feel a steady pressure grinding into your crotch.
The movement is slow, precise, practiced. His hips buff into yours in a controlled rhythm, making you sense his already taut erection through the thick material of his linen pants.
“Do you get it now, darling?” he murmurs, breaking the kiss to stare lazily into your glassy eyes. “Look what you do to me.”
His hand snakes to your blouse, and before you can register what’s happening, you hear three ivory buttons pop off followed by the cool, evening breeze tickling your heated skin. You don’t need to open your eyes to know your nipples are standing taut in the chilly air, yet the image makes you redden.
“How— how unceremonious,” you croak out, moaning softly when his large hand begins palming at your right breast.
His thumb and forefinger squeeze at your erect nipple, toying with it in smooth, tactile movements and relishing the way his name sounds coming out of your kiss-swollen lips.
“Mm, forgive me,” he chuckles darkly, planting a quick, ardent kiss on your lips before lowering his face to your chest. His tongue licks a slow, tender strip up your sternum before he looks up to smile at you; it’s a genuine look of satisfaction, untouched by the plague that is his faux arrogance. “I’ll make sure to be good next time.”
’Next time?’
You look at him lazily, gaze puzzled and lips ajar to ask but he doesn’t even offer you the chance. His hand dips from your tits to the band of your pants, sliding underneath it with his finger, the coolness of his skin making you gasp.
His mouth assaults your other nipple with sucks, nibbles, and gentle bites, making you mewl under him as his hand continues to travel down the soft flesh of your thigh. He rubs it gently, lovingly, starting under your hip and slowly stroking his way toward the inner region, where you’re most sensitive.
“Divine,” he mumbles against your chest, pressing a kiss to your rib. “So divine.”
His free palm moves to your exposed belly, massaging it gently. You sigh at the slow, consistent pressure, moving your trembling hand to the back of his neck.
When your one eye pops open in curiosity, you see him snug against your body, face contorted with empathic fixation as he labors down your body. It’s intimate, yes, but also… loving. His tongue is warm against your breast, and his palms caress your skin with slow, delicate strokes; the same hands you’ve seen wield blood-soaked daggers and longbows.
He runs two digits along the stretchy fabric of your bottoms, lip caught between his teeth. He catches you staring and smirks up at you.
“Enjoying yourself?” he husks out, and you’re desperate enough to nod wordlessly.
He chuckles at your enthusiasm, hand smoothing down the waistband of your panties that peers from behind your bottoms. Not even your cutest pair, but oh well. He doesn’t even seem to notice, as his digits play with the elastic.
You’re already so exposed, but nothing can prepare you for what he does next.
With a few more kisses to your breasts, he tugs at the two waistbands, pulling down your pants and panties in one go.
The material slides off your legs and you hiss out, feeling the coolness caress your slick core. Your hands instinctively reach to cover up, but you’re stopped in your tracks by a strong grasp around your wrist.
“Oh no, no,” He looks up at you with an arched eyebrow, and somehow, despite his collected mien, you catch a soft dusting of pink across his cheekbones. “Don’t you dare deny me this view. Not after I’ve waited for so long.”
Your face heats up at the brazen comment, but that only seems to draw him closer. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and he takes the hint immediately.
You connect in a heated kiss, and this time, Astarion is the one groaning against you. You work in tandem, like a gentle, effortless dance, heavy breaths intermingling in a sweet symphony of hums and sighs when…
You feel a touch against your heat. The contact is almost impalpable, yet your eyes flutter open in shock as the man’s fingers trace over your slit.
He withdraws from your kiss, hovering inches from your lips with a soft smile.
“S’unfair,” you slur, gazing up at him with a pleasure-drunken gaze. He exhales loudly, and you gasp. His fingers dip in, rubbing slow circles around your clit. “You— Gods—”
“Yeah? Tell me,” he taunts lowly, continuing his torturously languid movements with a devious smirk plastered on his perfect face. “What’s got you so bothered, my sweet?”
He dips down, teasing your entrance with his index. You pant softly at the prolonged stimulation, trying your damn best to stay focused on furrowing your eyebrows in mock anger.
“Got me so exposed and—” you trail tensely as his finger probes your entrance. “—And you’re still in your damn clothes.”
He hums in acknowledgment, but you doubt he’s even listening to you by how he surveys your body, bottom lip caught between his fangs. “I’m about to show you ‘generous’, like I promised.”
And then, he bottoms out. You moan, feeling two of his digits sliding into you, the slickness of your opening making it an easy feat.
You squeeze around him, and he pumps into you once, then twice for good measure. The sound of his movements is unbelievably and utterly obscene, making your stomach knot in delight.
“So wet already,” he purrs through a smirk, watching you writhe under him, “Don’t tell me our little sparring session got you this bothered.”
You roll your eyes, thighs squeezed tight around his wrist as you move your hips in tandem with his rhythm.
“Come on, talk to me,” he taunts again, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and letting his fingers fuck you in a steady, purposeful rhythm. “Now’s not the time to get coy.”
He switches gears, stopping his movement so he can curl his fingers inside you. He presses against the sweet spot, his thumb reaching to simultaneously rub slow circles against your swollen clit.
You cry out at the newfound pressure, the warmth in your belly twisting into a vortex of fiery delight.
“I—” you mewl against him, wrapping your fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt. “I’m gonna— c-cum—”
His movements quicken at your desperate words, digits working hard against your favorite spot.
“Cum then, my darling,” he taunts firmly, his free hand roaming under your jaw and holding it in place. “Cum for me. Let me— let me look at you, sweet thing.”
Your glassy eyes struggle to focus on his face, but once they do, he hits something white-hot inside you.
His lips crash desperately onto yours, but you struggle to kiss him back through the blinding pleasure of your climax. It thunders down your legs, up your belly, making you cry out against his mouth as everything melts away into a wonderful oblivion.
The last thing you see before your muscles go lax is red.
He rubs your clit methodically through your high, letting you ride it out peacefully as he burrows into your neck again.
When your breath steadies, you feel his fingers slowly withdraw. The emptiness that follows makes you cry out softly, helplessly watching as the man runs his palms up and down your sides.
He presses a soft, soothing kiss against your swollen lips, and you can’t help but glare when you see that he’s still fully dressed, even after your heated orgasm.
He catches your pouting and raises an eyebrow.
“Yes, darling?” he purrs, pulling away to take you all in. You’re caught speechless when his hungry gaze scans down your nude body; starting at your smitten face and ending with a lingering glimpse at your spent pussy.
“Please,” you mewl out, raking your hands down his clothed abs. “Gods— Please take these off, I can’t—”
He does.
His hands momentarily withdraw from around you, and with a swift, deft move, he tosses his shirt off.
The silken cloth comes flying into the night like a phantasmal figure, and you watch it catch onto a stray branch to your right.
Your gaze skims hungrily down his sculpted body, watching his muscles tense and release with every little movement. Yes, you’ve seen him shirtless before, yet the context of your current predicament somehow makes it feel like it’s the first time all over again.
Unbeknownst to you, his hands work at his bottoms, swiftly unbuttoning the waistband and letting it sit loose against his hips. You catch a soft, white trail against the edge of his undergarments, leading down to a straining, tented mess below.
Your hand reaches out absent-mindedly, still drunk off the high of your climax and so, so desperate to finally feel him for yourself.
“Not so fast, darling,” he scolds, gently slapping your hand away and letting it wither at your side.
“Let me touch you,” you retort desperately, but he only chuckles as his fingers begin working at his waistband.
“You lost our bet,” he explains, sliding a thumb under the elastic and letting it lower. You catch the very base of his straining erection, and that taunting alone makes you gasp. “Gives me the upper hand.”
“Says who?” you hiss under your breath, failing to give him the glare he deserves as your eyes bore into his.
He gives you a once over, gaze drawing languidly over your exposed body, and only then does the extent of your nudity finally dawn on you.
“Don’t make me laugh.”
You shift under him, shimmying within the small space he allows, and he takes your brief distraction as a moment to unravel his pants completely. They drop to the ground behind you, leaving him in his undergarments, and you bite your lip at how dangerously lax they sit around his hips.
“I think I’ve left you waiting long enough,” he mutters, and your lips go ajar.
The thumb hooked into his briefs starts sliding down his waist, lower and lower until you’re finally even in terms of undress— and you’re ever so starstruck by the sight of his bulging cock hovering over your belly. It stands thick and taut within arm’s reach and you find the fact makes your mouth water.
Then, before you can think of touching him, you feel him place either hand below your knees. He looks up at you with a sly smirk, and you gasp softly when he pushes your thighs flat against your torso, feet in the air and scandalously exposed in front of him.
“You’re playing with me,” you mutter breathlessly, hissing as you feel his length stroking against your inner thigh.
His arms compress you tighter as you feel him lowering, the underside of his cock slapping against your tummy. The gasp that leaves your throat at the sudden contact widens your eyes, and he catches your gaze with his self-satisfied one.
“Do you like that I’m playing with you?” he follows up without a beat, his hips rutting forward. The movement is gentle, yet the pressure is enough to make you whine out in desperation— it’s also the only answer you manage to choke up for him before his cock slides between your wet folds.
“A-Ah— you fucking— fucking prick,” you hiss at the vampire, and so he bears his fangs at you through a wide grin. You find that it makes your breath hitch even amidst your despair.
“Now, now,” he reprimands, words syrupy, “bold words coming from someone so vulnerable.”
His nails dig into the soft flesh of your legs as he slides back and forth, taking meticulous care so that the head of his cock butts against your clit with every dip. The stimulation feels electric, and soon enough, you feel your still-sensitive body ramp up with heated energy for a second time this night.
A minute passes, yet it feels like an eternity. The air between you is thick with tension and the soft, repetitive harmony of your strained moans and his little gasps. You watch his eyes close in concentration, and despite his otherwise relaxed facade, you can tell he’s struggling to resist you by the way his eyebrows knit in the middle.
“Fuck me,” you breathe out, one of your hands extending to claw at his withholding forearm.
When your gazes meet, he looks surprisingly spent; eyes glassed-over, mouth ajar, and the slightest hint of sweat glazing his pale forehead. You realize that his domineering act seemed to come at the expense of his stamina: a resource you had slowly replenished in your comfortable position.
“Not— not yet, darling,” he hitches out, but the words appear tender and helpless to your trained ears. “I— I want to enjoy this— enjoy you—”
Your grip on his forearm tightens, making the bucking of his hips stutter. His eyebrow raises at your touch, but before he can shoot you a witty comment, you’re pushing him forward.
It happens within seconds.
Your knees straighten, feet slamming into his abdomen. He coughs at the sudden, unexpected impact, and you take the opportunity to grab tight onto his forearms. He falls backward, and just before his spine hits the soil beneath, you use the momentum to push yourself onto him.
When his eyes flutter open, you’re straddling his waist.
He blinks in brief confusion, surveying his surroundings before the crimson gaze finally turns to you.
He surveys your face, and you let him. The moment is like a silent meditation, heavy breaths intermingling as he takes your raw beauty in; the longing in your eyes, the soft dusting of pink across your nose, and ultimately, the plush of your lips he had ravaged mere moments ago.
Next, he moves to your body. His eyes scan down your taut nipples, down your tummy, and to the softness of your thighs squeezing his midriff to the ground. When he reaches the junction between your bodies, your hips buck as if on instinct.
“My, just how courageous we are,” he purrs under you, hands reaching to rub down the outside of your thighs. “I wouldn’t be so nice about your dirty tricks if I didn’t find this view thoroughly delectable.”
You shiver at his honeyed words, yet your gaze stays determined on him. Your palms go to rest atop his, marveling at the eccentric softness of his knuckles and the polarizing edge of the nails.
“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” you grin playfully, rocking your hips back to feel his hard length against the curve of your ass. When a soft hiss escapes his lips, you feel your ego inflate. “Sound familiar?”
His eyes roll, but the grin creeping onto his lips deceives him immediately.
His head tilts at you, fangs bearing in the soft moonlight. “You’re trouble.”
The mischief of your smile spins into a warm fondness. Your cheeks warm, and your heart swells, but you don’t quite understand why. “Oh how rich that is coming from you.”
And then you’re rising on your knees, hips hovering over his throbbing erection. Your palms connect, digits intertwining with his as you lower yourself onto him.
You test the waters first, letting his tip brush over your slit with feather-like touches. You hum gently at the teasing pleasure, and so does Astarion.
When you feel your tummy tightening with anticipation, you dive in. With a light shimmy, you line your hips with his, and with more desperation than you planned, you slide down.
You both hiss as the head of his cock penetrates you, the stretch making your palm tighten against his. You bend at the knees, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim after such a long, lonesome time.
Finally, you let your hips slam against his. The sudden, harsh movement makes you gasp out into the tantric air as his tip pokes against your womb. The dull pain quickly shifts into a flat, resonant pleasure, and you waste no time.
Your hips begin to buck against his, building a slow, steady rhythm until you’re confidently riding your vampire lover with a self-satisfied smirk on your lips.
Each thrust makes you mewl, moan, and cry out into the night, that pleasant angle of his cock hitting that same spot his fingers did just minutes ago.
His head rolls back into the ground, and with the remnants of his energy, he issues an occasional, quick rut into you. As it’s rare, you decide to savor it. You squeeze around him with the thrusts, and soon, you feel yourself running out of breath.
“I— I could let you do this for—hells— forever,” he hisses out, and suddenly, you feel his hands unclasp from yours and snake around your waist. “Where have you been all these centuries?”
Your upper body is dragged forward, your tits colliding with his toned chest when he pulls you into a tight, possessive embrace.
You gasp at the warmth between you, and your eyebrows soon furrow when you realize the position limits your hip movement. As you’re forced into a pause from your delirious riding, his lips crash onto yours.
Your tongues share a private, slack dance, heads tilting to adjust as you both hum and groan into the fiery kiss. You attempt to rut into him, and soon enough he gets the hint.
Keeping you immobilized against his chest, his hips pound up into you. The first few smacks are scandalously loud, and you revel in the newfound angle.
You’re lost in him, completely and utterly. When he moans, you respond with a hum— when his embrace tightens around you, you kiss him harder.
The familiar, fiery heat in your tummy bubbles up again. You feel it amp up, grow, and send jolts up your spine when suddenly, you’re being pushed up. When your eyes flutter open, you catch his still closed.
His chest stays firm against yours as he positions you upright, letting you straddle his hips as you’re both left sitting in the soft patch of grass and wildflowers.
With your body regaining its mobility, you start grinding against him again. The position allows for a deliciously intimate closeness, his cock burrowing deep into you as you resume riding him.
The pressure within you grows, emerging as a knot— threatening to unravel with every other thrust. Your clit rubs against the base of his groin, amplifying the pleasure into a sensation you’ve long forgotten about.
“A-Astarion—” you mewl out between kisses, and his hot breath tickles your face when he chuckles.
“Cum for me,” he sighs out, and the assertion comes off soft and pleading as it settles into the groves of your heart.
“O-Okay— I… I—”
He tightens his hold on your waist with one hand, as the other moves to cradle your cheek. His touch is unbelievably delicate and affectionate, and out of all the stimulation he had so graciously provided you this night, it’s that soft touch that sends you over the edge.
Your lips connect in one last kiss, and you moan throatily into his mouth. Your hips still, thighs squeezing as your pussy tightens around his cock in a moment of pure bliss. The steadily rising pressure in your belly finally tips over, sending a wave of bliss down your entire being.
Still, he keeps moving. You almost want to scream against him as his hips begin pounding into you again, the soft slaps quickening as he slowly peaks with you.
Withdrawing from the kiss to lean against your neck, he cums. Hard.
Your slowly declining climax seems to slam the gas pedal as you feel him release deep into you, the warmth spreading through your body like a genial embrace, a fact that makes him groan loudly against your mouth. Your breath stills in your throat, before finally releasing into a long, guttural moan— it echoes into the night, and your vision blurs.
White-hot bliss envelops your body, and you melt into Astarion’s for solace. You feel him grip you, caress your face, kiss away your adrenaline-fueled tears, and pant softly against your lips as your pussy spasms again.
Your orgasm envelops you in slow, pulsating waves as it withdraws, and you’re soon left huffing into the vampire’s flaxen locks. You think you hear him speak, but the ringing in your ears is too potent to know for certain.
Then, as the ringing finally retires, you hear him whisper your name. It’s a soft, patient call against the burning skin of your neck, one you commit to memory as you’re finally awarded your senses back— if only partially.
The forest feels exceptionally silent as you fall into his arms. You recognize the soft chirp of crickets in the distance, perhaps a distant hoot of owls, but it all seems to blend into an indecipherable blur as exhaustion floods your system.
Your head falls into the crook of his neck, and your mind sinks into the soft, languid thumps of his heart. His hand caresses your back, and you sigh deeply.
You sit there for what feels like hours, drinking each other in. You’ve waited so long, and finally, you’re at ease— it’s a feeling you wish to cherish, and if it wasn’t for the pesky passage of time, you’d choose to stay in this damned forest for eons; with him.
You feel him shift against you. His hands withdraw from your waist, and he whispers softly against you. “Come, my love.”
You hum in disagreement, face burrowing deeper into him. Yes, rosemary and brandy— now it’s clear to you.
He exhales sharply, and you smile into his neck. He waits for a beat, before placing a soft kiss to your temple. “Wait here.”
You nod gently and finally allow him to withdraw. The separation makes you sigh, your body shivering in the newfound cold of the night, but you persevere. In the longing to hold on to the moment for a little longer, you keep your eyes closed and hope he’ll return before you open them again.
You hear him shuffle around, walking from left to right, before finally returning to face you. “Hands up,” he mutters softly, and you do as you’re told in your pleasure-drunken stupor.
You feel him drape something silken over your sweat-slick body, the soft material draping your hips before coming to a stop at your thighs. When you breathe in, you immediately realize it’s not your shirt, so you grin.
When you’re comfortably wrapped up, he leans in. Once you finally sense the familiar warmth of his chest, you lean against his shoulder and breathe in his scent.
You’re surprised he does this for you. Tenderness is not exactly something you’d connect with a man of his past, of his skill. Yet, when his hands move to rest under your knees and back, you don’t resist.
He lifts you off the ground, letting your fatigued frame rest against him. He takes it upon himself to get you back to camp, safe and sound, and only slightly perturbed.
You drink in everything you can, letting yourself be greedy for once. The steadiness of his breath, his warm chest, the crinkling of leaves under his feet— it’s an image you swear to place, no matter what difficulties might threaten to befall you in the future.
And he’s silent up until you reach the campgrounds. The chatter of dinnertime has long died down, and when you open your eyes, you spot the crackling embers of firelight flickering away among a circle of stones. The flames cast a soft, warm light onto the closed tents, and you revel in the intimacy of the moment.
“Everyone met their bedtime while we’ve been naughty sneaking out,” he murmurs with a chuckle, and you close your eyes hurriedly in hopes of feigning slumber. Still, you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face at his brazen comment.
You reach the outskirts and finally spot his tent just below an old, sturdy oak tree. You recall the talks you had out front so many times before, back when your feelings were just sparks of something much stronger and much, much warmer.
He crouches down and with an unsurprising agility climbs into the little shelter with you still in his arms. You lie slack against him, letting his arms lay you gently onto his woolen mat. You melt into the warmth almost immediately, sighing out dreamily when you feel his presence beside you.
It’s silent for a moment, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you catch him staring at you. His gaze is thoughtful but warm, lingering over your form with a certain glimmer.
“I guess it’s official, then,” you sigh out, closing your eyes again and letting a lazy smile drift over your features.
He pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. “What… what is?”
You chuckle softly at his awkward tone, shifting to the side and letting one of your eyes pop open to glance at him.
“My victory,” you state matter-of-factly before quickly shifting to your other side, facing away from him just to let a satisfied grin creep onto your face.
You don’t witness it, but his expression goes from tense, to disconcerted, to irritated in a matter of seconds. His eyes roll, and you suddenly feel a flat slap against your ass.
“Woah there, hey!” you gasp, followed by a cheeky giggle. Your head turns to face him from your comfortable position, and you catch him mirroring your grin.
“Quiet, now,” he commands softly, pivoting to lie beside you. His arm comes over your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Bet’s over, darling. I’m sorry to say, but you’ve not proven yourself capable. Shame, really.”
You blow a raspberry through your smile and shimmy closer to him, your body melting perfectly into his— a fact that has you near to falling asleep.
“Shame indeed. The look on your face was priceless when you ate dirt,” you shrug nonchalantly, “At least that’s the version I’ll be telling everyone come morning.”
He scoffs, the low rumble of it vibrating against your back, but his arm only tightens around you. You feel his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.
“If you do that, I might just have to kill you,” he mutters, but despite the intensity of the words, his voice is soft and loving against your head. His hand drifts to your belly, fingers tracing lazy circles against the soft skin there.
“You would never.”
He’s silent for a beat. Your lips open to build on your clever retort before you feel his sharp exhale on your neck.
“Sleep, darling,” he reprimands, squeezing your midriff gently.
You sigh contentedly, your lips brushing against the pillow as you settle deeper into his embrace. The tent is cocooned in warmth, but you feel the cool kiss of the evening breeze filtering in through the small opening at the entrance. Outside, the campfire crackles faintly, the last embers glowing like distant stars before fading into fine ash.
As you drift closer to sleep, wrapped in the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the world around you blurs into the peaceful haze of near-dreams.
Just as the veil of slumber begins to pull you under, you feel his lips press against your hair, a soft whisper brushing against your skin.
“As long as I'll live, I never could.”
#fanfiction#writers on tumblr#fanfic#reader insert#x reader#ao3#ao3 writer#smut#astarion#baldurs gate 3#astarion ancunin#baldurs gate#bg3#bg3 tav#bg3 astarion#tav#astarion x tav#astarion bg3#astarion baldurs gate#bg3 x reader#bg3 x tav#bg3 x you#astarion x reader#astarion x female tav#astarion x you#astarion fic#astarion fanfiction#astarion x female reader#astarion/you#astarion/reader
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Patience
Summary: You are too eager to ride Astarion, and he proposes a solution to your impatience. After all, experience is the best teacher and impatience its fiercest enemy.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Inexperienced Tav. Thigh riding. Edging. Sexual frustration. Precum. Handjob. Cum. Muffled moans.
Word count: 2.4k
“Hello.”
Astarion’s eyes lifted from the pages of the dusty book in his hand, carefully following your every move as you dropped the flap of his tent and secured the strings in place.
The universal sign for ‘do not disturb’.
A faint knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Hello, darling,” he said, straightening his back as he sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor.
You dropped next to him on both knees, eyeing the book in his hand. “What are you reading?”
His smile grew wider, slightly entertained by your evident lack of self-awareness.
For all intents and purposes, Astarion could read right through your innocent question.
After all, you were by far his favourite book to indulge in, and – quite frankly – the most alluring.
“Oh, something regarding the political scene of Waterdeep,” he mused, feigning boredom as he snapped the book close. “Gale outdid himself by carrying this tedious literary work around, though it is very much on brand for him.”
You nodded, clasping both your thighs and biting your lip. “Sounds interesting.”
Except you weren’t at all interested in it, were you? Your avidity was rooted in something else entirely.
And he had every intention of indulging you, his resolve fueled by the hardly noticeable way you fidgeted under his stare.
“Dropped by for a goodnight kiss, did you?”
The question startled you, and he inwardly chuckled from anticipation.
“Yes… I suppose so,” you whispered, your eyes dropping to his lips.
To the untrained eye, one might mistake your words for uncertainty.
But Astarion knew you well.
Too well.
Your body language never failed to provide all the information he sought and it told him more about your intentions than words ever could.
Forcing a dramatic sigh, he set the book aside and patted his thigh. “Come here, darling.”
As expected, you eagerly shifted towards him across the carpeted floor before settling on his lap looking positively delighted.
He could already foresee where this was headed.
The moment his hands came to rest on your waist, you immediately looped your arms around his neck as if bracing for the inevitable.
“Where’s my kiss, then?”
You beamed at his antics and leaned in to press her soft lips against his.
Your inexperience was palpable and clashed head-on with your eagerness, which often resulted in sloppy and clumsy kisses as you came to terms with how to handle your own lust.
Astarion didn’t mind having you take control. After all, experience is the best teacher, and he wouldn’t deny himself the fun of having you struggling with taking the lead.
Outside this tent, you called the shots.
In your shared intimacy, you trusted him to guide you through the intricacies of carnal bliss.
But he was ready to test just how much you had managed to break from your inexperience.
Your warm tongue darted across his lower lip and he immediately allowed you to slide it inside.
Sloppy.
Desperate.
Hungry.
He couldn’t hold back a chuckle as you grazed his fangs, pressing yourself hard against his crotch. The hip rolls followed soon after, and he knew it wouldn’t take long for his cock to stir in his trousers.
A breathy moan rumbled along your throat as his tongue tried to redirect yours. At this rate, you’d nip yourself on one fang. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy the sweet taste of your blood filling his mouth, but it would be far too distracting, and he might not resist having his cock inside you in record time.
The grind against him only increased in pace and pressure, and he felt one of your arms drop and snake in between you two, hand fidgeting at his waistband, tugging eagerly.
Oh, you poor, sweet thing…
You craved touching him more than he had anticipated, and the tingles of pleasure rushed down his body and worked on further teasing his cock.
A needy whimper was what ultimately broke the kiss, and your quickened breaths fanned his lips. “Let me… please…”
“What do you want?” he asked mischievously.
Your other hand slipped from his neck and clumsy fingers kept fumbling with the lacing at the front of his trousers.
Clearly, dexterity wasn’t your forte.
But he had enough for both of you.
“Please…” you repeated, pressing further against him.
Delicious tease…
“Use your words, darling.”
A growl of sheer frustration filled his ears. “Let me ride you… please.”
Crude and straight to the point.
Delicious.
His cock immediately twitched from the sound of your sweet voice and, for a brief moment, he considered your plea.
But he figured that some reining in was in order.
Your eagerness often resulted in impatience, which often meant he'd come way faster than intended just from your teasing alone.
This time, he wanted to savour the moment.
He quickly grabbed both your wrists before you could free his hardening cock. “Not tonight, sweetheart.”
A string of whines immediately ensued as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “No… no… no… please…”
You began grinding down against him desperately as frustration took over, and he simply couldn't suppress the deep groan that escaped his throat.
Gods above…
“I know, darling… I know,” he cooed sweetly, rubbing the back of your neck as he prayed to whatever God above to grant him the strength to withstand the delicious roll of your hips. “Be patient.”
Your whines only intensified. “Then… your fingers?” you asked as you pulled back to stare at him, hope kindled in your eyes.
The prospect was tempting. Almost too tempting to pass. He was certain you were already desperately clenching around nothing, your wetness dripping as your body readied itself to have him inside.
However…
He clicked his tongue, letting go of one wrist to graze your bottom lip with his thumb. “What about…” He paused as you parted your lips, inviting him in. “My thigh?”
“Your… thigh?”
“Yes,” he said, now teasing your upper lip.
Your grind slowed down into a dull pace as if trying to test digest his suggestion.
“But why?”
He grinned sympathetically. “And why not? You are too eager and should exercise more patience.”
You pouted sheepishly and his cock stirred even more. “But… I’ll be quiet…”
This did make him chuckle as he could almost taste your despair. Under different circumstances, he would have adored watching your mouth part as you slid down his cock, but he wondered how long it would take for you to fully soak through his trousers.
“We both know you’d struggle to keep it down,” he said, fingers teasing the hem of your shirt before slipping under it and caressing the warm skin of your lower abdomen. “But the point is: I would very much like to have you grinding along my thigh.”
You swallowed, shivering under his touch and averting your eyes.
All flustered for him.
It always did wonders to his ego and cock.
Letting go of your other wrist, he captured your chin in his hand, wanting your eyes on him once again. “You want to ride me, don’t you? Then feel free to do so, darling.”
Your eyes widened. “Fully clothed?”
He pondered for a moment, one finger slipping under the waistband of your trousers. “Maybe taking these off?”
You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately scrambling with the lacing and nearly losing your balance in the process as you lifted your hips to pull them down your legs and kicked them to the side.
He caught a fleeting glimpse of the swell between your folds, the faint candlelight allowing him to spot your wetness glistening around it.
The pulsing pressure building up around his cock was testing his limits.
Fortunately, Astarion had no issues grounding you with his hands on your hips as you hurried to settle right above one of his thighs as he uncrossed his legs, but not quite lowering yourself all the way down.
“What about yours?”
A mischievous smile danced across his lips. “Take a seat, darling.”
You nodded and gripped his shoulders as you aligned yourself with the bulging muscle along his thigh, pressing down firmly.
A strained hiss parted your lips from the sudden friction and helped your hips find a proper rhythm to begin with.
“You’re so… mean,” you huffed in frustration, eyes locked with his. “Just let me…”
Astarion wasn’t being mean. Not in the common definition of the word, at least.
He would be mean to deny you of this altogether.
But to deny you would be to deny himself, and he could be quite selfish at times.
Your voice immediately died down as he flexed his muscle, earning a soft mewl from you.
“You were saying…?” he teased.
The way you had to bite down hard on your lip was answer enough, and you merely shook your head as he kept on taunting you.
It wasn’t long before he felt the dampness beginning to seep through the fabric of his trousers. In truth, he wasn’t at all surprised by how soaked you already were.
So eager…
“Can I just... touch it…” you moaned, dropping your hand to his crotch, teasing his considerable bulge. “Please…”
His hips bucked up into your palm, driven on pure instinct and he let out a blissful groan. “I’ll manage.”
He wouldn’t.
In fact, he was quite sure he was going to come embarrassingly fast in his trousers if you kept riding him like that.
But the alternative was to let you grip his cock, which would not be a wise decision either.
“Don’t be stubborn,” you said with an adorable pout.
Eventually, Astarion settled for the latter, realising he was being consumed by maddening lust and might as well fully indulge in your eagerness.
He quickly unfasted the lacing and hissed in relief as you tugged the fabric down just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, your hips never faltering.
The moment your warm fingers wrapped around his cock was when he realised just how wet he also was for you.
A quick glance down allowed him to spot a few droplets of precum rolling down his length before coating your fingers and knuckles.
Another groan left his lips as he struggled to keep his hips steady so as not to ruin the delicious and determined pace you had set grinding against his thigh.
He just wasn’t strong enough to resist you and your evident inexperience as you tried to match your strokes along his cock with your hip rolls.
“Gods…” he growled, eyes nearly fluttering shut.
Deciding that you might need some help, he wrapped his own hand around yours, quickly finding the sweet spot that allowed your hips to move in unison with both your hands.
A loud whimper broke from within you.
“Keep it down…” he managed to say in between needy grunts.
You nodded vaguely as your wetness began to coat the skin under his trousers, further pushing his sanity to the limit.
Oh, he was done for.
He was quite fortunate he wasn’t buried deep inside you or you’d already be filled to brim with his seed.
And against his better judgement, he decided to push himself even more by tugging at the buttons on your shirt.
He needed to see them.
He needed to see your breasts sway as you rode him.
His dexterity would always prove fruitful in the most random situations, and he was skilled enough to undo each button with just two fingers, trailing down your torso, until the thin fabric of your shirt spread apart enough for him to catch sight of one full breast undulate with each roll of your hips.
A perky nipple peeked through and he felt his cock twitch dangerously in your hand.
He pushed the fabric aside so he could have both of them swaying at a mesmerising pace.
You hurriedly slipped out of your shirt, shoving some of it in your mouth to muffle your increasing moans and whimpers.
Astarion felt his balls tighten as a warning.
He wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate.
Not with you so desperately riding him and with your hand stubbornly squeezing more and more precum from him.
Astarion could slip into shadows like one else, bending silence and stealth to his will if he so wished to avoid being spotted.
But there was only so much he could hold back with you so easily ruining him.
“I’m… going…. Astarion…” you groaned, closing your eyes as you threw your head back, nearing your peak and biting down hard into your shirt.
He increased the grip of his fingers around your, yearning to mimic the tightness of being inside you.
“Not so tight…” he pleaded, too lost in his pleasure.
The fabric of his trousers that covered his thigh was absolutely drenched and he couldn’t bring himself to be bothered.
In fact, he was tiptoeing the edge of his self-restraint, now matching his hips with your own.
A sudden spasm from you alerted him that you were coming hard, your fingers squeezing so tightly around his cock he had no other choice but to bite down on one end of your shirt, feeling his fangs tearing easily through the fabric.
You kept on spasming on top of him, your breasts swaying with each contraction that tore through your body,
He managed to fuck your hand a couple of times before he reached the point of no return as his balls tightened, the rush of liquid coursing through his cock as the first spurts of cum spilled from his tip.
For a moment, his mind blanked as his own powerful contractions took over his entire body and senses.
He felt his cum seep through his own shirt as he used your trembling hand to squeeze the final drops from his cock, not bothered where they landed as long as they were out and by your hand.
You slumped into him, whimpering softly from the aftermath of reaching your peak.
It took him a few seconds to catch up with you and he quickly released your torn shirt from his mouth.
“You owe me a new one,” you said, panting against his neck and still not letting go of his cock.
He blinked a few times as he descended from the overwhelming bliss you had thrust him into.
“Darling, you owe me.”
You chuckled faintly. “And why is that?”
He caressed the back of your hand, absentmindedly coating it in cum with his fingers. “You’ve just learned to have some patience.”
Masterlist
#astarion#astarion x oc#astarion smut#astarion bg3#astarion x female reader#astarion x reader#astarion x female tav#astarion x tav#astarion x f!reader#astarion x f!tav#astarion x you#astarion x female oc
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Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold.
It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much.
And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no…
The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.
They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands.
There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough!
And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways.
So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten.
And maybe they are, especially Astarion.
But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.
When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters.
Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns.
They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…
That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time.
Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal.
No, those people know nothing at all...
“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.
The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable.
Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort.
By now, he knows every step of this game.
“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”
Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav.
Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late.
“Want apple!”
Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier.
“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?”
The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress.
She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.
Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.
“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…
The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls.
Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day.
Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it.
But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.
Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her.
The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed.
He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.
“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.
Astarion pauses.
He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore.
By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.
And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe.
He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever.
Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet.
He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family.
These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.
He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.
It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him.
Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.
After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.
And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it.
“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head.
When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.
#astarion#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldur's gate 3#dadstarion#astarion x tav#astarion headcanons#astarion x f!tav#baldur's gate astarion#astarion ancunin#to the best worst dad#astarion father of the year every year#emicha writes#idk how this turned out this long#I just put my daddy issues to work#I'm thinking about writing more casual one shot length pieces like this more often though#btw anyone else who only got real gold jewellery as a child?#having a grandma who told them fake jewellery isn't good for your skin?#and now that you're an adult you're left with a certain standard for jewellery but no money to actually pay for it?#because that's really funny ha!#I'll sleep better knowing the ancunin brood will just steal their jewellery even when they're not destitute
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Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his petite gn s/o wearing his clothes?
absolutely, lovely! here you go:
Astarion
100% makes a comment about you looking “good enough to eat”
but, seriously. he jokes to cover up how delighted he is.
you’re wearing his usual casual campsite shirt, the open neck of it revealing a large portion of your chest - Astarion can’t help peppering the exposed skin with kisses 💕
wants to see you in more comfortable domestic situations with him. I think this is part of when he realises how utterly enamoured he is with you.
lets you sleep in it and watches you dream. can’t take his eyes off how lovely you are.
Gale
you’ve definitely stolen a robe of his, I think. probably wearing it because you can’t be bothered to get dressed properly lmao
he’s surprised when he spots you. takes a moment to just watch you being in his clothes. has a huge smile on his face when you turn around.
”apologies, you just look… radiant.”
you laugh - because let’s be honest, he’s compliment his own dress sense too - and pull him in for a kiss.
he runs his hands up and down your body to feel the shape of engulfed in his finery, smiles against your lips 💕
Wyll
so so so so pleased.
we know this lovely lad is a romantic. there’s something so soft and intimate about you wearing something of his.
”sorry I just needed a shirt while I tried to find—“ “keep it. it looks far better on you than it does on me.”
a grin crosses your face, you stalk across to him and wrap your arms around his neck.
“hmm, I don’t know if that’s true… it would look best on the tent floor.”
laugh when he widens his eyes in mock-surprise at the scandal of it all, and you use the opportunity to pull him into a loving kiss 💕
suddenly more of his shirts end up in your wardrobe. he likes knowing you have a part of him with you if you leave the camp without his company.
Halsin
the one most likely to have a visceral reaction.
his jaw tightens. he lets out the littlest growl.
silvanus preserve him, he feels so territorial over you… you’re wrapped in his shirt (he’s huge, you can probably wear it as a whole outfit lbr) and you look so warm and safe. protected. he wants to keep you that way forever - he vows he will.
when you tell him it smells of him and you find it comforting he swear his soul leaves his body
(NSFW) most likely to have you wear it while you ride him later 💕
Dammon
huge grin when he spots you pottering around the forge in one of his shirts.
”why are you in that old thing, love?” ”because it reminded me of you, and you’re my favourite thing in the entire world.”
he grins and puts down his work, wrapping you in his arms as well as his shirt, tail swishing in joy.
wears one of your shirts the next day and is so so happy when you burst out laughing before giving him a long kiss 💕
Rolan
pretends to be annoyed. “get your own clothes!”
secretly so thrilled lol. never had a serious significant other before, especially not one who’d wear his things.
loves how it looks on you. can’t stop stealing glances, appreciating the way it hangs on your body. brings out all the bits he most admires about you.
you catch him looking and wink. he goes a bright red… well, brighter.
Zevlor
“oh, do you need more clothes? I can get some for you.”
laugh good-naturedly at his concern and assure him it’s just because you like wearing something which reminds you of him. watch his eyes soften in adoration.
“ah, my love. you know how to stir this old warrior’s heart.”
holds you at arm’s length while you do a spin so he can properly admire you before pulling you to his chest for a deep kiss 💕
#Zevlor x reader#zevlor bg3 x reader#Zevlor x tav#dammon x reader#damon bg3 x reader#Dammon x tav#rolan x tav#rolan x reader#rolan bg3 x reader#gale of waterdeep x reader#Gale of waterdeep x tav#Astarion x reader#astarion x tav#halsin x reader#halsin x tav#wyll x tav#wyll x reader#wyll ravenguard x reader#my writing#Long post#bg3 imagine
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.⋆。Let Me Be Your Bear。⋆.
Halsin x plus size reader (Tav)
An accident involving a fiery touch and your beloved stuffed teddy leads you to something wonderful
Warnings: Tav!reader, fluff, mutual pining, daddy Halsin, cuddling, reader has no specified gender or pronouns
WC: 782
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
It had been an accident really. You knew Karlach was just curious about the small stuffed animal that was sitting on top of your open pack, she didn’t mean to turn it to ash as soon as she touched it and you didn’t resent her for it, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t break your heart just a little bit.
Especially now as you lay by the dying fire, clutching a small bag Wyll had given you for the ashes tightly to your chest in some vain attempt to receive the same warmth the toy had given you before. You knew it was silly, it was just a small bear you found at the beginning of your journey but it was comforting on the darkest of nights when you were stuck with your thoughts or nursing some wound.
Sighing, you rolled over onto your back and came face-to-face with the massive druid who was standing over you, looking at you curiously. You inhaled sharply in shock, clutching the bag even tighter. Halsin just tilted his head. “Why are you holding a pouch?”
Heat crawled up your neck in embarrassment. “It’s dumb.” You mumbled, but his sensitive ears caught each word. Firelight flickered over his face yet the light in his eyes was even brighter.
“You can tell me you know. I have been told I am a good listener.” You sighed, patting the ground beside your bed roll. With no hesitation, Halsin took a seat beside you, his muscular thigh only a few inches from your soft one.
Your fingers toyed with the small braided rope that tied the top of the pouch together, the ends already frayed from your nervous fiddling. “It was my bear, it was accidentally burned up which I understand, it wasn’t deliberate. But I can’t sleep without it.”
Halsin hummed under his breath and you braced yourself from some teasing remark (perhaps you were spending too much time with Astarion) but it never came. Instead, the druid smiled softly at you. “Perhaps, you would allow me to help, with your permission of course.” He must’ve noticed your confused expression because he quickly spoke again. “I think you forget, I myself am a bear.”
Realisation dawned on you then, which was quickly followed by bashfulness. He was offering to let you cuddle him just so you could sleep. That of itself was an enticing offer, he was an incredibly handsome man, only a fool would deny that. But more than his outward appearance, he had a gentle and kind soul, one you had quickly fallen for.
“You don’t have to.” You replied but Halsin laid one massive palm on top of your knuckles, easily enveloping your much smaller hands.
“I want to.” No other words were needed. He pulled away from you just far enough for him to shift without hurting you as his eyes began to glow a beautiful gold. You blinked and suddenly there was a brown bear standing before you. He huffed and nudged your shoulder, pushing you to lay back down.
You didn’t even notice as the pouch slipped off your lap, too focused on the way that Halsin’s huge front legs now straddled your wide hips as he himself lay down between your legs. A soft groan was forced from your lips when he placed his head onto your soft stomach but it wasn’t uncomfortable, far from it actually. His weight on top of you eased the tension throughout your body and you quickly found yourself overwhelmed with exhaustion.
He gazed at you with emotions you couldn’t quite comprehend, watching with some satisfaction as you relaxed beneath him.
Your arms curled around his head as best you could, rubbing one of his ears between your fingers. He gave a satisfied groan, his black eyes shutting. “Thank you.” You whispered and he nuzzled further into you, almost purring as your closed your eyes.
“What in the bloody hells are you doing!” Astarion’s shrill voice cut through the tranquillity of the morning, startling you from your surprisingly deep slumber. Hot breath fanned across your face as the massive bear on top of you growled before settling back to sleep, his huge maw resting on your sternum.
“Sleeping.” You grumbled and your fingers tangled in his dark fur.
“Well yes I can obviously see that but why do you have a bear on top of you?” You cracked open one eyelid to glare at the elf who looked greatly put off by this whole thing.
“He’s my bear.” You answered simply as Halsin groaned in agreement, both of you wishing to go back to sleep and maybe get another blissful hour of just holding each other.
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Pink.
Info: This is part of a drabble series I'm starting, about colours and their associations with emotions. This one's happier and hornier then the last one, yay.
Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav (unnamed)
Summary: Their first time post endgame, when they had decided to take it slow for Astarion's sake.
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral, fingering, a bit of dirty talk, PiV, some happy tears and blood (only a drop). It's porn with a tiny bit of plot and LOTS of feelings. This isn't kinky at all, they're not fucking, they're making love. It's romantic, it's vanilla, it's what we all deserve every once in a while.
Word count: 4k
Spawn!Astarion x fem!Tav/reader - Pink [associations: love and romance, peace & nurture, warmth & euphoria]
It was a quiet, clear night, dim lights dancing around the crackling wood in the fireplace in Tav and Astarion’s bed chamber inside the Wyrm’s Rock Fortress. After defeating the Brain, Wyll had taken over as Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate, offering guest rooms to anyone in the party who wished to stay in the city. Indefinitely if necessary, he had said, which was a relief since the two hadn’t yet decided when or where to join the army of spawns in the Underdark that had been unleashed after Cazador’s defeat. Seven weeks had passed since they’d saved the city. And they had gone over quickly, as everyone was still either recovering or helping to rebuild all that’s been broken under the Abolute’s attempt for tyranny.
Astarion lay in their mahogany bed, reading something he believed only Gale would truly enjoy - some Netherese crap about the Weave and whatnot. He could get used to this though; residing like royalty in a castle and being treated as one of the city's heroes. The guest rooms were clearly built to accommodate noblemen, furnished with care and a certain touch of arrogance, much to his liking. Glancing up from his book, his view followed his lover when she made her way across the room, dressed in a dark nightgown and her hair damp. Putting the dusty tome aside, he stretched out an arm to grab her attention and said, “Come here, my love?”
She answered with a smile, taking his hand and sat down next to him. “Missing me already?”
“Terribly,” he jested, fingertips brushing across her knuckles. “The nerve of you leaving me alone here in Ravengard’s chamber of horrors.”
“This chamber of horrors just provided me with yet another free bath, for your information,” she replied, holding his gaze. “Are you hungry? You haven’t fed in a while.”
“Positively ravenous,” he said, fangs poking out of his sly grin as he pulled her into bed.
“I see.” She held back a laugh. So that’s where the dramatics came from.
Holding her close, Astarion’s head went where it belonged, to the crook of her neck, his favourite spot, where he could smell her blood flowing even through her skin. But there was something else, a new scent drifting to him from her hair. Lavender? Hells, Wyrm’s Rock truly wasn’t half bad. Just as he inhaled again, she turned at an angle to offer her neck to him fully. He grinned to himself. Always so eager to please.
She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the icy caress Astarion would pull her in. His fangs pricking her skin only ever hurt for a mere moment before a pleasant coldness spread through her body, sucking the energy from her like a proper hike would. She didn’t mind the blood loss and was happy to provide him with what he had told her was the finest red he’d ever tasted. Any moment now, his fangs would penetrate and make way for him to feed on her. When his lips finally touched her though, his canines remained absent. A kiss, gentle and soft, was pressed to her neck. Then another. The sensation wasn’t unknown but still unexpected. Instead of turning cold, an immediate warmth spread from where his lips lingered, up to her cheeks and down, all the way to her core. The kisses kept coming, wandering up to her jaw, then back down towards her chest, his hands still holding tightly onto her waist. She released a sudden, hot breath, unsure of what this meant.
Astarion and Tav hadn’t slept with each other since the party at the Druid’s Grove, having decided that it was for the best to take it slow. He had told her that he didn’t know what he wanted for himself in terms of sex, after two hundred years of having to lure in people for Cazador with his body. He only knew he wanted her, one way or another. And she had agreed, that he had to heal first, find himself and discover a worth unrelated to offering himself for other people’s pleasure. That he could be safe somewhere, with someone, without giving something in return.
They still had been close since, held hands at any moment that allowed it, spent nights exchanging small kisses, or her favourite, holding his face while they talked and watching him look at her for what felt like hours.
But this, the way he planted kisses on her now, was completely different and reminded her of their night in the Grove. Though surprising, the affection wasn’t unwelcome. She’d lie if she said she hadn’t missed it. Her promise remained true, she would wait for him to be ready, no matter how long it took, even though her body longed so heavily for his touch from time to time. Still, she needed to be sure if she was reading the situation correctly.
“Astarion?” she asked, another gasp escaping her when he sucked on a tender spot, to which he immediately stopped.
His lips pulled away from her, a confident grin still on his face. "Yes, darling?"
“Are you sure? If you want this, I mean.”
His hand went up to her neck, fingers placed behind her ear while his thumb traced her jawline. “Feeding from you? Oh, you know it’s my favourite pastime.”
“Not the feeding. The kissing.”
His expression didn’t change, but his eyes retracted as if he was suddenly shy, roaming over the sheets next to them. “I didn’t mean to… I just felt like it. If you don’t want me to-”
“No, no,” she interrupted as she put her hand upon his. “I like it. I really do. I just want you to know that we don’t have to… go all the way through with it. We can stop at any time, alright?”
His eyes met hers again. “Darling, I tend to finish what I’ve started.” He neared her face with his, staring at her lips. “But thank you. For saying that.”
Crashing his mouth against hers, he kissed her deeply, his hand on her neck pulling her even closer. His lips like velvet brushed against hers so smoothly, leaving hers agape. He let himself fall back onto the mattress, pulling her with him so she could straddle his hips.
Astarion smiled as he looked up at her. “I missed this, you know.”
“So did I,” she replied, voice hardly above a whisper before closing the gap between them once more. The kiss was more tender, some kind of promise woven within as their tongues met, until she felt him getting hard beneath her. It was his turn to gasp now, followed by a chuckle when he felt her rolling her hips against him.
“I can tell,” he mumbled between kisses, his fingers playing with the strap of her robe and quickly untying the knot. Falling open, the robe granted him a view of her figure, delicious and relaxed, that made it impossible to keep his hands to himself. He reached between the fabric, hands running up her sides, thumbs softly touching the plump skin on the underside of her breasts. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispered into the night without fully realising it, before pulling her close again. A searing kiss with her fingers raking through his hair followed as the robe slipped from her shoulders, now only attached to her at the sleeves around her underarms.
She pulled them off, tossed the gown to the side, and unbuttoned his shirt in return. Astarion watched her nimble fingers work and decided to help by pulling it over his head, soon to join her gown on the floor. With nothing but his trousers between them, she felt his erection grow harder and ground against him once more, marking his trousers with a trail of her wetness.
“Now, now,” he cautioned. “Leave some for me to taste you, will you?” He sat up, pressed a kiss to her burning lips and proceeded to turn her over, so she was on her back. Hovering above her, his eyes darkened ever so slightly, a hungry grin plastered across his face before he made his way down to her core.
Just thinking about it made her head spin, how he would touch her there, savour the essence between her legs. Not tonight though, she thought as her hand found his hair, tugging lightly on it when he was halfway down. Astarion looked at her, a question hanging between them.
“As much as I’d love you to do that, I want this to be about you. I want to make you feel good,” she said, holding his chin gently between her fingers.
Astarion blinked and closed his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers as he studied her for a moment. “Oh.”
“Is that okay?” she asked and he seemed to think of what to say. What he wanted.
“I suppose it is, yes,” he then said, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards, showing off a dimple.
She sat up, repressing a smile and took his hand in hers. “Lie down, love. Make yourself comfortable.”
When he did and had nestled himself between the frilly cushions, Tav straddled him again, took his face into her hands and kissed him. Astarion grabbed the outside of her thighs this time, sliding up to the curve of her hip and then back to cup the cheeks of her ass. She smiled into the kiss, letting him touch her however he wanted before she pulled her head back and made her way down his body.
Both her hands were on his thighs now, starting at his knees and slowly stroking upwards. When she reached his groin he released a shaky breath, looking at her intently. She began to undo his trousers, so he pushed his hips up, helping her to get rid of the pesky garment once and for all. Turning back to him, her hands went straight to the tent that had formed beneath his briefs, touching him through the last layer of fabric. Astarion’s breathing turned shallower when she pulled them off him too, leaving him bare before her. With his erection freed, she took in the sight of him, making sure to etch the image into her memories forever.
“I’m afraid I can’t find the words to describe how perfect you look for me,” she told him as she reached for his dick. Pumping it once, twice, and still watching him react to her touches, she asked, “Does that feel good for you?”
He nodded, eyes half-lidded as if her movements had him entranced. “It does, yes. More than good.”
Her thumb brushed over his tip, spreading the bead of precum that had accumulated before she bent down. With a flattened tongue, she licked a stripe from bottom to top, looking Astarion in the eyes to see his lids close, brows knitted and mouth agape, sucking in a hiss of approval. Pleased with his reaction, she pumped him again, then wrapped her lips around him, softly at first, and swirled her tongue around the top. Working her way down, she tried to take more of him each time, stroking her hand down the part that didn’t fit. Her tongue flattened when she bobbed down and twirled around the tip when she came back up, sucking in her cheeks and leaving Astarion a panting mess.
Somehow, with his eyes still closed, his hands found their way into her hair and proceeded to guide her up and down on him at the pace he desired. She felt herself getting wetter then, having achieved just what she wanted - to be there for him, to serve him and to make this special night all about him and his needs. Moans filled the air when he approached his climax and she almost smiled with his dick in her mouth, still led up and down by his hands. His voice was like music to her ears, she could tell how close he was by the way his fingers gripped her scalp and the twitch in his hips, so she brought her free hand around his balls, cradling them with light touches, silently inviting him to let go.
“Oh fuck,” he breathed, his fingers twisting even tighter in her hair. “I, ah!”
There it was, she thought, he was going to spill into her mouth any second. But then, right before he could, while cursing out a string of stressed moans, he pulled her off him. His chest was heaving, she realised, now that she could look at him again, a thin film of sweat spread across his forehead. “What’s wrong?”, she asked.
“Nothing, darling,” he said between deep breaths. “I just… It’s been a while, as you know, and I don’t want it to be over this quickly. I want this to last as long as I can possibly manage, which certainly will not be as long as I’d wish for it to be, judging by my current state. But there’s more I want to do with you. To you.”
He sat up and held her by the waist, meeting her with yet another kiss, tasting himself on her tongue as his erection pressed against her skin. Pushing her down by the shoulders, he made them switch positions, so he was on top again.
“My turn,” he quipped, with a boyish smirk and began to kiss his way down her body. Hands on her chest, he squeezed her breasts tenderly, his mouth hovering over her left nipple.
“Wait,” she said, despite herself.
He stilled his movements, looking back at her. “Yes?”
"I wanted you to enjoy yourself fully tonight, you know," she began until his thumb circled her nipple, causing her eyes to shut close.
“Do I look like I’m not having fun?” he asked, resting his head down on her tit while he lazily massaged the other one.
“Oh, you do, believe me. But what I had in mind was more focused on you, not me. I’d rather please you than have you please me tonight.”
He chuckled to himself, eyes meeting hers again. “Darling, this is pleasing me. That’s exactly why I do it. For my pleasure. And yours of course. What I’m saying is, seeing you come undone by my hand, or tongue, or cock… is what I want most right now.”
She grinned and rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head with a laugh.
Astarion appeared serious in contrast, a pleading look on his features. “Please, let me do this.”
The laugh caught in her throat when she realised he truly meant it. He wanted to make her come for his pleasure. So she swallowed once and answered, “Okay then. Do as you wish.”
He let out a hum of approval as he began to suck on her nipple, his teeth scraping lightly across the surrounding skin. Tav’s breath hitched when he went for the other one, forcing her eyes to remain open. She needed to see every second of this.
He kissed a line down her stomach, his breath fanning into her navel when he settled between her legs. His expression was downright obscene as he kissed the tender skin on her inner thigh, eyes never leaving hers. His fangs had pricked the thin flesh, if intended or not, she didn’t know. A single droplet of blood gathered around the tiny wound, quickly wiped away by Astarion’s tongue. Another hum from him, his eyes flickering closed as he savoured the taste of her while his hands drew patterns and neared her core.
She didn’t notice she was holding her breath when Astarion’s lips pressed a kiss to her pussy.
“So wet, my darling,” he mused. “Just for me.”
All she could do was nod between moans as he finally pressed his mouth against her and let his tongue dance over her clit. Her head snapped upwards, eyes on the ceiling above while he circled her, teased her and groaned deliciously into her skin. She pushed herself to look back down and watch him, his eyes already on her as he continued lapping and sucking at a torturous pace. Closing his eyes with what she interpreted as a grin, he brought a finger to her entrance, lightly pushing until it was inside of her. There was hardly any resistance, her body was so ready for him, welcoming all he had to give with ease. So he pushed and pulled a few times, then added a second finger while his tongue still worked its wonders on her.
It felt like she was breathing fire, her lungs threatening to burst when he curled his fingers inside of her. Moans turned into screams and she instinctively threw her hands to his head, clutching his curls for dear life, pulling him even closer while this rogue bastard devoured her like a god.
“I’m going to come,” she managed curtly, face already scrunched into a heavenly grimace.
Astarion didn’t answer, focused on the task at hand and kept working her towards the finish line until everything inside her seemed to explode. Her entire body tensed, limbs convulsing as she screamed his name, surges of pleasure rippling through every muscle, every inch of her. Wave after mind-numbing wave crashed against her but he didn’t stop, didn’t break the contact between them and when she felt the orgasm begin to fade, Astarion sped up his movements, fingers and tongue ceaselessly striving to reach his goal a second time. He succeeded almost immediately. Just when she thought her breath would steady, when her twitching legs seemed to relax, another peak hit her, and this time it squeezed all the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t gasp or scream anymore, only endure as the glorious rush made her lose her mind. Tav pulled Astarion off her, gasping for air and fell back into the pillows, chest heaving with a dull smile on her face.
He towered over her, grinning wickedly at the state of her before wiping the back of his hand over his drenched mouth. “That was to your liking, I take it?”
She didn't answer, unable to find the strength yet, just waving her hand at him as she tried to come to her senses. Astarion laughed softly as he watched her chest move, the beads of sweat that had formed all over her body glistening in the light until she was capable of thinking again.
She got up in a daze, Astarion sitting upright on his knees in front of her, his hands resting on his lap, erection still visible. Tav crawled over to him, mirroring his position and kissed him at the same time as her fingers wrapped around his dick. He was still rock hard, breathing heavily into the kiss. “You nearly killed me, I’m afraid,” she whispered against the skin of his neck. “I’ll have to pay you back in kind.” His head fell back with a sigh as she pumped him faster, eager to give the man she loved so much the pleasure he had given her.
She pulled his head back towards her, the need to watch him enjoy himself too strong. And he showed her everything, every twitch of an eyelid as she rolled her wrist around him, the way his mouth fell open when she squeezed him harder, or the deep line that formed between his eyebrows when he tensed. He moaned sharply and just when she thought he’d release, Astarion grabbed the hand that was working on him.
Tav stopped her movements, afraid she’d done something wrong or that he wasn’t ready, that it still might be too much for him. “Are you all right?”
He brought her hand towards his face and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Quite alright, my dear.”
“What’s the matter then?”
He eased her worries with a smile, pulling her closer by the waist. “I don’t want it to end like this tonight. I want something else. More.”
Anything, she’d do anything for him. “And what is it that you want?”
Shadows fell upon his eyelids as he bent his head down, still maintaining eye contact. “I want to fuck you.”
Her mouth fell open for a split second before she could nod. Too eager it seemed, as Astarion grinned at her reaction. “Lie down, darling.”
She followed his instructions and let him get on top before he pressed himself against her, supporting his weight with one arm. Another kiss, short and sweet, contradictory to the situation was placed on her lips as he lined himself up at her entrance. And when he pushed himself in, all the air seemed to leave her lungs once again. He did it slowly, watching her reactions closely, as he entered her inch by inch. They moaned in unison when he bottomed out, some wicked sense of relief, a feeling of wholeness, uniting them. He pulled back equally as slow, a need to prolong and savour this moment for as long as possible spreading in his chest. She reached for his face, holding onto each side delicately as he rocked back and forth, her mouth falling open when he hit a particular spot.
“Do you want me to turn around for you?” she asked, her thumb caressing his earlobe.
“No,” he whispered. “I need to look at you right now.”
That somehow left her speechless and she returned to enjoying the feeling of him fucking her slowly as well as the sight he granted her with. He didn’t speed up his movements but ground into her harder after a while, unable to resist the temptation any longer, already panting from how turned on he was. His voice was quiet, barely audible to her, had she not paid such close attention. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He sang it like a poem with every snap of his hips against hers.
“I love you too,” she replied, pressing her fingers tighter against his neck in confirmation.
“No, you don’t understand,” he sighed, still moving in and out. “I Iove you.”
Something wet landed on her chest, a warm droplet of some sort. A single tear, she quickly realised, that had fallen from Astarion’s eyes. She wiped away its trace on his cheek and pulled him close, kissing him deeply. She’d hold him like this until the end of time if he needed her to, would tell him how much he meant to her for hours on end if he only asked. “I love you, too,” she replied with certainty until their lips met yet again. Her tongue found his and she could still taste herself on him, mixed with the salty flavour of another tear, which must have been hers.
When they pulled back and looked at each other, Astarion was still fucking her at a leisurely pace. He exhaled a laugh and said, “Sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The crying and all.”
Tav smiled, wiping away her own tears. “It’s okay, I don’t mind a bit of sappiness every once in a while.”
“Enough of that, I say,” he answered and sped up his movements. She could feel him hitting even deeper now, more determined than before and as he turned her hips at an angle, she knew the coil in her belly was about to snap again. He held her feet to his chest, leaning over her like a magnificent predator as he thrust into her again and again. His other hand went to her clit, rubbing in quick circles, never slowing the rate at which he fucked her.
Her vision blurred as the third orgasm hit her, eyes rolling back in her head as the pressure became unbearable and she could only scream his name. Astarion moaned at her convulsing around him, her pussy squeezing him even tighter in rhythmic throbs. He came with his head falling back, releasing his seed into her hot cunt with a few more hard thrusts. He fell on top of her then, muscles finally unwinding and his mind free of everything but her.
They stayed like that for a long while, sticky bodies pressed together, limbs tangled and Astarion’s dick still sheathed inside of her. There was no need to talk, they knew what the other one was thinking anyway, so they held each other until sleep pulled them from consciousness.
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The whisky neat and the strawberries sweet
“Then make me, my love,” Astarion answered, not missing a beat. “Come and get it,” he finished and slowly placed the last strawberry between his lips, grinning. His fangs were bared, contrasting against the deep red of the last piece of fruit.
MASTERLIST | AO3
Author's Note: Let's try again shall we? Tumblr ate this the first time. I listened to "Too Sweet" by Hozier too often and it caused this. What was only supposed to be a drabble turned into a whole thing... I hope you enjoy! With a wonderful gifted artwork by @nathaira-draws (please follow them!)
Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with feelings, blood drinking, vaginal sex, creampie, foodplay, aftercare Wordcount: 4,7k Song: Too Sweet - Hozier
~~~
You didn't really know how you always ended up in positions like this one.
But by all the gods, you for sure didn't mind that you did.
Comfortable. You were comfortable in the way you sat on Astarion's lap, straddling him, clad in nothing but a sheer nightgown. The fabric huddled along your body, leaving very little to the imagination. From the clearly visible stiff peaks of your breasts it flowed down in soft lines to where it cascaded into a bunched up mess around your eagerly and widely spread legs.
Astarion in his usual camp outfit, albeit with his shirt possibly open wider than usual, was much more clothed still. But he surely seemed comfortable too.
And if his promising smirk and playfully raised eyebrow as he looked at you wasn't proof enough? Then maybe the way he was pleasantly, almost achingly hard and pressed directly against your heated, throbbing core between your legs was.
And yet you weren't even primarily engaging In anything overtly lewd, at least this far. The two of you were simply talking. Astarion was having a glass of neat whisky while you were indulging in a bowl of perfectly sweet strawberries.
You talked about every- and anything, whatever came to each of your minds. While Astarion kept sipping on the liquor out of his fancy crystal glass and you popped deliciously sweet fruit into your mouth.
Or, occasionally bucking your hips to get a little rise out of the other - a gasp, a groan, a telltale involuntary twitch - or a bottom lip caught on a fang with crimson eyes shortly rolling back into the skull and then a blissful smile.
The two of you played that little game. Trying to get the better of the other, all while trying to maintain a somewhat civil conversation.
As civil as any conversation could be when your slick cunt was pressed against your vampire’s dick. And you could barely keep yourself from rubbing yourself against him until you would either see stars explode before your eyes - or Astarion would remember he was a predator after all.
Either end was equally titillating in your eyes.
This little back and forth went on until you eventually proverbially poked the vampire a little too hard. You ground yourself against him as he was just answering a question you had asked him a moment ago, about what his favourite places around Baldur’s Gate were. The snap of your hips was so forceful, your by now obscenely slick core rubbed against Astarion’s hardened length in an almost painful way. You made yourself moan from the friction rolling through you, coiling in your stomach.
The vampire groaned loudly, almost a growl and mid-word, head falling back. He grabbed the wooden armrest with the hand not currently holding liquor filled crystal, until his knuckles showed white even through his already pale skin. It was almost a wonder the wood didn’t crack.
His length throbbed violently. Your clit eagerly echoed it.
You bit your lip as you focused on the feeling, a lewd, wishful sigh left you. The tension was oh so delicious.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Astarion almost hissed at you, a bit breathless. His head had snapped back, staring at you from deep under his drawn together brows. “Because if you are, you are not being very subtle about it, love.”
His tone was slightly angry and a little high-pitched. He was immediately trying to walk it off but you had obviously irked him. But he was merely teasing you. You saw the way the corners of his mouth twitched unwillingly as he took another swig of whisky. And if his attempts at deflections wouldn’t have told you the truth, something else you clearly felt yearning for more of that friction, would have surely done the trick.
You grinned at him with fiendish delight as Astarion tried to somewhat awkwardly rearrange himself in his seat. But with you pressing yourself against him he hadn’t really any room to wriggle.
His ruby eyes narrowed at you as your grin grew broader. Oh, how you enjoyed being on top of things for once - quite literally so.
“Also it is very rude to interrupt someone like thi-” Astarion tried to utter in an offended tone. But interrupted himself once more with a groan when you rolled your hips against him once more. Even more forceful than before.
Astarion’s moan almost became a whimper this time. Long slender fingers darted over and now gripped onto your naked thigh. Not pulling you closer - for now - but also definitely not pushing you off. Astarion’s cock helplessly and desperately jerked from the friction where it was nestled between your legs.
It was a piece of work to keep yourself from huffing and moaning as you were continuously trying to push Astarion into the deep end without being dragged under as well.
The vampire’s head lolled back again for a moment. Then it rolled back around, his expression a challenge now. The vampire licked over his lips lasciviously: eyes glittering like garnets and fangs shining like ivory as he observed you. Precious in any kind of way.
Playtime was over now. Time to face the consequences.
“You vicious little vixen,” Astarion whispered, fingers digging into your flesh until the twinge of it had you throw your head back this time and gasp. The way your back thereby arched drew your vampire’s attention to the way your breasts were now perfectly presented to him. To either behold them like a connoisseur would an impactful piece of art or to devour them like a doomed man would his last meal.
The pale elf’s equally pale eyebrow twitched - as did your clit still drawing pleasure from his fingertips almost clawing into your thigh. If only… a little more…
Quick flicks of the vampire’s skilled tongue over the sensitive buds at the crest of your breasts made either of them perk up even more. Until your nightgown was dangling off them even more, creating soft lines draping down, surely drawing the observer’s eye to them and your now heaving breasts, heavy from lust.
Your hands immediately went to cup Astarion’s head, cradling it as his tongue swirled around the tip of your tits, not even bothered by the thin fabric between you and him. The way your hips started moving came naturally. Just like how you bowed your back even more for your lover. You closed your eyes, easily getting lost in the sensation.
Then, suddenly, sharp teeth dug into your breast, lips shortly closing down around the hardened nipple.
“Oww,” you yelped and immediately resorted to slapping Astarion’s arm in response, pushing him away. Your head snapped back to stare at him.
The vampire just laughed haughtily as he withdrew again, leaning back. He licked just a drop of blood of his lips as he did so.
When you looked down your own body you saw twin pricks that had pierced through the translucent fabric. And beneath it a tiny trickle of blood running down your chest.
In your moment of inattentiveness Astarion had shifted slightly in his seat: now sitting with his legs spread even further, the bulge between them so painfully obvious and palpable for either of you. He was leaning back, arms draped over the backrest. In one hand he was still holding the whisky glass and idly swirling it around while holding it by its rim.
By default your legs were also spread even further now, making it hard to move. And suddenly you were the one feeling a little caught. Good for you, you had found quite the pleasure in being caught by the vampire time and again.
Although that certainly didn’t stop you from leaning forward as much as possible and catching the pale elf’s chin between your fingers, trying to stare him down.
“Don’t you know that it’s rude to bite someone without asking?”
Astarion pouted. “Can you really blame me for not being able to resist, darling? It was… low hanging fruit after all,” he mused with a grin.
Your eyes narrowed - considering if you should be insulted by that or not.
Astarion eyed the lonely drop of blood he left behind slowly rounding the curve of your boobs. He angled his head observing its journey. A single strand of white hair fell into the vampire’s face as he was entranced - by your tits and the trickle of your fine red alike.
Lost in thought and the view he lifted the crystal to his lips again. As if unconsciously trying to substitute for what he obviously craved much more than liquor right this moment.
The whisky would have to do.
But before he could take a sip, your fingers wrapped around his and wrung the glass out of them. Inattentiveness really made either of you prone to be taken advantage of. But not to either of your damage.
Before Astarion could protest you took a generous swig of his liquor and slightly shuddered as it burned down your throat. You licked your lips with a grin as you felt the burn leave behind a delicious warmth.
The pale elf’s mouth fell open slightly, eyebrows jumping up. His eyes darkened and twinkled at you as if asking you how you even dared and simultaneously promising you he’d get you back for that one - in that kind of way that would leave you desperately begging for more.
It made your lower body clench as another kind of heat washed through your body. Adding to the throbbing sensation between your legs, lashing it on.
And yet the most you had done was sit there.
Closing your eyes, you tried to regain just a fraction of composure. You had been doing so good in your little game of teasing. How did this godsdamned vampire hold that much power over you that he almost broke you with barely more than a glance?
Astarion in the meantime smiled in content as he took note of how you had to consciously concentrate to keep your wits about you. And also he had located the rest of your strawberries still sitting in the bowl on a small table next to the chair you were both wrapped up on.
Your head snapped back as you felt the vampire’s weight slightly shift below you. With his roguishly quick reflexes you only just saw how your lover had started chewing something. Then he was popping another strawberry into his mouth. And another-
“Hey,” you wailed at him as your eyes darted to the little bowl that was now almost yawningly empty. “Hey stop, that’s the last one!” you continued, grabbing for Astarion’s wrist with your free hand as he was about to devour the last piece of your sweet treat.
“Then make me, my love,” Astarion answered, not missing a beat. “Come and get it,” he finished and slowly placed the last strawberry between his lips, grinning. His fangs were bared, contrasting against the deep red of the last piece of fruit.
His hands wandered to either of your thighs, pushing into them and pulling you closer to him at the same time, spreading your legs even more for him. With your hand not holding the crystal glass you grabbed for his shoulder to try and keep your balance.
Lightning jolts shot through your body at the sight of your lover. Finding their target in between your legs. Making you involuntarily rub yourself against Astarion’s hard dick again, still comfortably pressed there. Trying to keep the electric energy going. Hoping to turn it into a constant current.
Heat was pooling everywhere in your body now at the promise Astarion’s eyes made you.
He didn’t need to be able to speak to lure you to him. Astarion leaned in a little closer, the delicate lines around his mouth deepening when his smile grew predatory. And you leaned to him, your cheeks and whole body flushed, keen to accept what he offered: the lamb willingly falling for the wolf.
But then an idea flashed through you. Acting quickly, so you wouldn’t second guess yourself, you took a small sip of whisky, keeping it in your mouth.
The vampire’s eyes sparked at you, immediately catching onto your plan. A small strained gasp worked its way around the strawberry still in between his teeth to get past his lips. The fangs dug into the flesh of the fruit ever so slightly at the strained sound. And at your core you felt his dick twitch once more.
You were both in for a treat.
With a chuckle and the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one holding power you leaned in to kiss your vampire. You slowly wrapped your mouth around the strawberry, lips brushing Astarion’s like a feather in passing - all while your gaze burned into his.
The fruit was crushed between your mouths in an instance. Its red, wet juice ran over both your chins, leaving trails that almost looked like freshly spilled blood. The flesh of the sweet treat was quickly torn and devoured between pointy fangs and more sharp teeth as your mouths worked impatiently to get around it. To get to each other - to the real treat.
The whisky had immediately spilled over your lips, down your chin. Only a few drops had actually made it to Astarion’s lips. But it was enough. The rest he could easily taste directly on your lips and tongue, in your mouth. His tongue made sure to get every last bit of it as it slipped between your lips.
The vampire tensed beneath you, his length somehow hardening more, as you melted into him while kissing him; moulding yourself to him as you slowly felt yourself get lost.
Tart sweetness mixed with smoky burning as did tongues and teeth. Remains of strawberry and whisky were already staining your faces and throats, even clothes.
One of Astarion’s hands moved from your legs to the nape of your neck as your mouths moved against each other. He pulled you closer, trying to taste more of you as you let it happen with a yearning moan.
His other hand moved to yours still clenching the crystal glass in its fingers and swiftly took it away, placing it down to free you from it. And when you were, your hands immediately grabbed the vampire’s face. You let your fingertips stroke along his pointy ears, wandering into his curls, deepening the kiss even more. Closing your eyes as Astarion’s rolled into the back of his head.
His other hand sneakily went to your ass and with a gentle push made you grind against him once more. And then again, until you took up the rhythm on your own. All while you kept kissing, now exchanging moans, gasps and other lewd sounds spilling from your lips. Passing them back and forth between you.
And when only traces of strawberry and whisky remained on your tongues, you broke away from each other. You were both panting and worked up to the point where it had become almost painful.
You stared into each other’s eyes that were void of anything playful now. The need in them was real.
Your hands cradled your lover’s face as his gaze was almost glassed over - from lust. Different from other times where his eyes had betrayed to you that he was a thousand planes of existence away.
But now he was here with you, almost violently so. The only thing Astarion was dreaming of was you and how your body seemed made to be squeezed against his. And the electricity between you was so strong you knew lightning would inevitably strike both of you.
The fruit had left Astarion messy, red stains smeared all around his chin and throat. You were used to the sight by now although it usually were less tame things than strawberry that left him in disarray. And as the yearning inside you reached a boiling point you felt the urgent desire to offer your vampire the real thing. Turning him into a whole mess in the process - in every kind of way possible.
You bowed down to him, seeing his eyes sharpen at you closing in. And nothing but a hair breadth away from his lips you stilled, reining in your boundless desire for Astarion.
“I need you, Astarion,” you whispered to him, your quivering lips brushing his as you spoke. Your breath caressed his face making his eyes lose focus as they rolled widly once more at your confession and your closeness alike. “And I want you.”
“Incidentally,” he murmured, voice raspy and promising, reminiscent of strawberries mixed with whisky, “I want you too, my heart.” His hands on your behind, fingers spread wide, squeezed hard. “And I need you even more.”
And so you let the reins slip from your hands. Your lips crushed with his again as four hands were busy to grab hold and get rid of what was still in the way.
Astarion fumbled with your already ruined nightgown. Trying to pull it up but getting distracted by how soft your skin felt along his fingertips or how your curves shifted lazily with the roll of your hips or how your fingers felt beneath the hem of his shirt.
After a few unsuccessful tries his already short tempered patience got the better of him. He just clawed at the damned fabric and tore it apart, tossed it away with a growl, breaking your passionate kiss shortly.
His short-circuit action shortly took your breath away as you felt the garment ripped off your body.
You stared at him, now fully bared before him. Crimson predator eyes took you in and couldn’t stay harsh at your softness. The moment drew out as he lovingly gazed upon you and you used it to let your hand flutter to the top of your breasts then along the curves of them, drawing a line with your fingertips. Astarion watched carefully, an almost unwilling gasp escaping him.
Then another roll of your hips, rubbing yourself against him with a moan. You threw your back into an arch, repeating the motion more vigorously, grinding yourself against Astarion’s still fully clothed but not less needy body. His pants were already a mess, you knew, caused by your slickness and his yearning cock alike.
Astarion kept eagerly staring at you as you worked yourself against him. His long fingers wandered over creamy soft thighs, wrapped almost fully around your delicate waist and then up your sides, sliding over your back as you threw yourself into them. You were melting for him while you felt the tension inside you grow. And your lover kept observing you, how your body moved like light waves hitting a sunbathed beach. His lips curled up further into a sinful grin as he felt you come closer to the peak: the shift of your hips becoming more ragged, your breaths heavy and raw.
Meanwhile your hands toyed with the hem of his already wide open shirt, tugging on the strings, wandering beneath the hem, caressing his chest as he had become almost a statue beneath you. But his stillness only betrayed that tension within him grew as well.
But then you wanted more. Without halting the movements of your body against his you urged him to draw his shirt over his head. And when he enthusiastically obliged you immediately thanked him by pressing your soft, warm tits against him.
Astarion couldn’t remain still anymore. Eyes glossed over again as he delighted in your body dragging against his naked, smooth skin now. Your hands were in his hair. And as if you weren’t already treating him enough you let your head loll back and dragged the vampire’s already parted lips to where they could immediately pick up the rhythm of your racing heart.
His fangs pressed cooly against your skin making you shudder from the sensation. Gasps filled the air. You felt Astarion’s lips press a kiss to your exposed throat. And a moment later the sharp pain of his fangs breaking your skin made left you breathless and made claw your hands into his curls.
He drank from you and you stilled. You needed to feel how with every swallow he took of you, his dick moved in unison.
And it made you both yearn to finally feel it in an even more intimate way.
Your fingers moved to unlace Astarion’s pants, making quick work of it. The sensation of his erection being freed and immediately being caressed by your deft hands made the vampire quiver. His focus was shortly broken and you felt some hot blood run down your throat. But who could blame him when you began stroking his aching cock like this. You saw how wetly his length was already glistening and felt how generous amounts of precum spread all over it beneath your hands. He really did need you.
Astarion groaned as he tried to pull himself together, licking up the spilled blood. But two different beasts were battling within him right this moment, each eager to get their fill. And both needed to be sated.
“Darling,” Astarion murmured against your throat, “you’re killing me for good.” His hands were on your ass now, squeezing it with spread fingers and urging you to move up on him.
You kept working his cock harder and you pressed yourself up on his lap slightly, obeying his silent plea.
“Good,” you replied, catching his eyes for a moment as his lips still remained lightly on your throat. “I hope it’s a pleasant way to go.”
And Astarion groaned, confirming it.
With your fingers still wrapped around his length you positioned him against your obscenely wet core. You moved your hips, making his head drag along your hot, slick folds, but not allowing him to enter you just yet.
You did it once, twice, feeling your clit and his cock in your hands throb each time. Then Astarion had enough of you teasing him. With his hands firmly holding onto your ass he pushed you down on him until he was buried inside of you to the hilt.
He began fucking you while you still tried to get used to the sensation.
Astarion started a relentless rhythm, aiding you riding him by dragging up your hips and letting them slam into him with his hands digging into your ass. All while he thrust up into you, hitting deep every single time. He praised you, whipping you on with words almost as sweet as strawberries. And the burning warmth inside you was even greater and more deliciously numbing than a sip of neat whisky.
Oh, this wouldn’t take long. The long, lascivious build-up had made sure of that.
You felt the waves grow higher while your moans grew increasingly unhinged. Already you were bracing yourself to be dragged under as you felt Astarion’s sweet nothings dissolve into senseless groans of pleasure.
But then suddenly, you felt Astarion’s hot mouth wrap around your hard nipple again - the one he had teased before. While your orgasm was already on the horizon and rushing towards you quickly, you felt another sting of pain as the vampire’s fangs broke the sensitive skin of your breast a second time.
In the meantime, a hand had wandered up your back and you felt how Astarion wrapped strands of your hair around his fingers before starting to tug on them.
He began eagerly sucking on your boob, striving to get more of the aphrodisiac that was your blood. Meanwhile his skilled tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, swirling around it.
He kept pulling on your hair, having you bow back while riding him and Astarion kept drinking from you.
The continuous jolts this sensation sent through your already helplessly writhing body pushed you even beyond what you had expected.
With Astarion’s mouth closed around your tit and his dick hitting you particularly hard and deep you dissipated fully in his hands. The vampire pushed you far further over the edge than you'd ever thought possible.
As if drifting out of your body for a while as your orgasm shook through you violently, your core clenched around the vampire buried as deep inside of you as anyone ever was.
With an obscenely wet sound he had to let go of your nipple as Astarion came just as forcefully, balls tightening before he spilled inside of you. Your bodies worked eagerly - clenching, jerking, giving, taking - to make the most out of it.
The room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths as you both rode out the waves of your orgasm.
After, you collapsed on Astarion's lap who held you so carefully as if suddenly he felt you'd shatter under his touch. Your arms felt weak now as you wrapped them around your vampire, your legs started to tremble from the almost impossible tension they had endured before.
Your lover only carefully moved you to withdraw from you as he softened. He kept showering you with small kisses and soft reassuring mumbles while he gave you all the time you needed to safely come down from your high.
It took a long while until you were sure you were fully inside yourself again.
“I love you, Astarion,” was the sole thing you trusted your voice to utter because Astarion kept uttering sweet nothings into your ear. His hands were rubbing a comforting rhythm over your back, your chests pressed together, sticky from sweat. Your forehead was leaning on his shoulders, eyes closed.
The vampire softly laughed and patted your back: “I love you too, Tav.”
“Come on, darling, let’s get you cleaned up and into something warm,” he whispered after a few more heartbeats of comfortable, exhausted silence into your ear.
You lifted your head slowly from his shoulder, took one look at how blood was practically smeared all over Astarion’s face and only snorted. But the vampire took it only with another chuckle and began to rise with you in his arms.
He carefully sat you down on the nearby bed, quickly grabbed a cloth and warm water and cleaned you softly. Astarion took special care of where he’d bitten you, spending extra time cleaning the small bite wounds - pressing a kiss on them after.
Slowly you began talking again while Astarion took care of you and you regained your wits but felt exhaustion and blood loss catch up with you.
Astarion continued to carefully pamper you, washing every part of your body with the cloth, almost massaging you. Then quickly cleaning himself up while you were taken over by a big yawn. You were ready to sink back onto the bed and be wrapped up in your lover’s arms as you would slip into your dreams.
“You owe me a new nightgown, Astarion,” you uttered between yawns trying to stay upright - at least until your vampire was finished with the aftermath of your little evening adventure.
The vampire pointedly lifted an eyebrow at you: “But why wear a nightgown if you could just sleep naked?”
You had no power anymore to argue. So you used your remaining energy to stare angrily at your vampire until he stood up with a smirk and returned with his discarded shirt in hand.
“Alright, my dear, I’ll get you a new one,” he promised with a wink. “But for now this will have to do, I fear. I hope you can overlook it was previously owned by me, darling,” Astarion mused and handed you the shirt which you quickly threw over your head. It smelled of his usual scent: rosemary, bergamot - and whisky. Your eyes darted to where the crystal glass with the rest of Astarion’s drink had been forgotten and smiled. Then you drew a deep breath in, closing your eyes. With this you could do.
You clambered further onto the bed then, making yourself cosy as Astarion undressed to climb into bed with you
“You also owe me some strawberries,” you continued as you stretched out your arms towards your lover who you felt was taking too long to join you.
Astarion snorted as he climbed towards you and wrapped you into his arms.
“You’re awfully demanding, darling, you know that? What about my wasted drink?” he replied with a smirk in his voice as you had already closed your eyes, feeling his comforting presence wrapped around you.
“Hm yes, you can get yourself new whisky too,” you mumbled and were already drifting off to sleep.
“Alright then, my sweet,” Astarion answered as he heard your breath deepen already. “A nightgown, whisky, strawberries and whatever else your heart desires, my darling Tav.”
~~~ If you enjoyed this you can support me by reblogging this! You can also support me on Kofi (pinned post on my profile)! ~~~ Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @miss-rebel-without-applause
#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion x reader#astarion ancunin#bg3#astarion bg3#fanfiction#baldur's gate 3#bg3 spoilers#astarion x mc
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Hi RJ, I deeply deeply love your art, your style is amazing and your Astarion is one of my favourite renditions. Thank you so much.
I would like to ask you a rather specific question about your process, if you’re alright with that.
What thought process goes behind choosing a color for your lights and shadows? How do you do it?
I think you’re a master in creating a mood with light and the colors you choose really make DU Drow look like himself (true drow skin, just like i imagined it before ever picking up non-table top version of anything d&d!!) and gives your astarion this gremlin-like soft ugliness lol
Anyway, take care and thank you for any tips xx
Thank you so much! Colorful art is kind of a "new" thing for me, I used to do mostly black & white for comics and such. When I got into BG3 and decided to wanted to draw all these silly ideas out, I realized I was gonna have to venture back into it - It's far too colorful a world to get away with grays and inks alone.
What I'm saying is that I'm still very much learning! I'm glad you guys like my art but I definitely feel like my grasp on color isn't all it could be. I just do what I think looks good and makes sense with the setting!
First of all I think it's important to note that I usually have several different layers of shadow and light. FOR EXAMPLE:
AND THEN FOR LIGHTS... Each text color is a different layer, and that's not even all of them 😂
And the reason for keeping them separate is this: when first painting them on, I make a rough guess on the color, AND THEN-
Yup. I just fuck around with this until I'm happy.
Usually this lands me on (very muted) blueish or purple-y tones for shadows on a multiply layer, with the "base" shadow and for the lights it can be all matter of colors depending on necessity. You can also select your flats and individually change these colors per-surface. You learn what you like as you go! This isn't even a rock solid formula, I still experiment a lot and depending on the piece, the process can be both a lot simpler or a lot more complex than this.
A rule of thumb to start with is that natural light will usually constitute of gray shadows and very, very soft-yellow light - if there is even a need for any depending on your base colors/style. Night settings usually necessitate a slight blue hue on both shadows and light... However, this is art baby, do whatever makes you go "oh that's sick" when you look at it.
As for DU drow's skin, it is nothing but a mix of a grayish/brown base, shadow, and a reflective light! That's what sets him apart from the way I color light-skinned characters; light, when bouncing off his skin, usually (but not always) has a gem-like blue color. You can have all kinds of variations of this combo to give the skin on darker characters more depth.
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IN MY VEINS
SUMMARY: After disobeying Astarion's request, you find yourself in an interesting position.
PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader
WORD COUNT: 2,501
WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, shameless knife kink, blood drinking, finger sucking, fingering, orgasm denial, begging, basically just the most depraved thing my mind could think of apparently. Also big ascended Astarion vibes??? But not actually because I cannot ascend him, sorry.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, I guess I'll see y'all in hell for this one. Also in case you've missed it, this is definitely NOT apart of the Lover's Folly universe.
MASTERLIST
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All at once you feel a cold blade and a hot hand, both of them targeting your throat with quickened calculation. Slightly lower than the blade, the hand shifts tightly against your skin, prompting a low groan of surprise to push through your lips, causing the voice behind you to speak.
“What do you think you're doing here?”
Lightly it flutters against your ear. Sounding like a mixture of whiskey and honey, it piques an interest within your mind that almost immediately forces you to do a double take, attempting to look at Astarion’s face, wondering if that usual scowl of his is on full display.
“Just came to say hi.”
He quietly snorts before moving his torso against your back, pulling you closer. “Hi.”
Swallowing hard, you force your teeth to hit your bottom lip, suppressing the urge to groan again when he pushes the blade closer.
“What no hi back?”
In response, you let out a plume of air and try to angle your neck away from the knife, only to be met with rough hands that pull you back in, pricking your skin ever so slightly. As it happens, you close your eyes, releasing your lips from your teeth to let out a soft hi Astarion. One that has him chuckling in your ear without warning.
“Hello, darling.” Gently, he places a quick kiss to your temple then loosens his hold ever so slightly, allowing you to breathe and remember the small slice now present across your neck.
“I’m sure the gang will love to see your handiwork in the morning,” you joke, but Astarion doesn’t laugh. Instead, he just continues to kiss your temple, gently dragging his teeth across your skin as he lowers his mouth, moving to the edge of your jaw.
It leaves you breathless where you stand —frozen from the feeling of different temperatures exploring your outsides. On one end, his hands feel surprisingly warm; big and soft but rough in their ministrations as he clutches the front of your throat. However, on the other, there’s the threatening reminder of the knife. How one wrong move could result in the laceration of your poor esophagus.
You have to force yourself not to protest at the position you find yourself in. Stuck beneath his hold; your back pressed firmly against his front with little room for movement, all you can do is stare forward and hope he’s quick. That his hunger for flesh can be sated before the lust kicks in.
Having been on the road together for so long, you’ve experienced both sides of such a spectrum. Happily feeding his fill, you’ve offered over blood and sex in various ways and combinations. And if you’re honest you’re favourite is when he eats and then fucks you.
“I thought I told you to stay put while I’m hunting.”
His teeth move to nibble at your ear, an action that has you rearing slightly back, remembering his command. The way he cupped your chin as you sat inside his tent, frowning at the prospect of having to wait. Back then, you had every intention of listening. Of patiently waiting with bated breath as he hunted for dinner before returning to you to claim desert. But then you grew bored. Restless at the hands of time itself and decided quickly that defiance was the proper answer.
“You were taking too long.”
It comes out like a whine, making you slightly cringe, hearing the desperation in your voice. Realizing just how sickly hopeless he makes you feel over the simplest things.
“And now I’m going to take even longer, aren’t I?”
You can practically feel the grin that graces his lips. The way it pulls up on either end, revealing two pointed canines ready to strike. You can’t see them but you know they’re itching for flesh, his tongue moving along their points as he stares down at your pulsing neck, wondering if he should drink you now or later or perhaps at all.
Deep down, you know he doesn’t have much restraint for the latter. On more than one occasion he’s expressed that the taste of you is infectious. A delight so utterly consuming he often thinks about keeping you even after this is all over.
You’ve never admitted it but there’s a part of you that wants that too. To allow him the comfort of always feeling fed. As the days go on, you tend to dwell on the idea more often than not, imagining a life where you'd be bound by his hand, forever forced to serve his hunger and lust.
It’s a tempting future. One that has you standing with anticipation, feeling Astarion lightly kick the base of your calves, motioning for you to move.
Slowly, you step through the clearing, straining your eyes to look at the ground below for signs of obstruction. Considering one misstep could mean your end, you try your best not to move while simultaneously showing no signs of struggling —wanting to look brave.
“You’re lucky I wasn’t in the middle of something.”
His voice is distracting. The way it hits your face in heavy, angered puffs makes you blink and step a little far, resulting in the buckling of your leg, prompting him to humorously hum and steady your frame.
“Be careful, my dear. Wouldn’t want you slipping on my blade, now would we?”
Immediately, you let out a nervous laugh and continue as if nothing happened, moving until you’re in the middle of a grouping of trees that seclude you from the rest of the world.
Once there, Astarion’s grasp slips away, your throat feeling instantly soothed by the amount of air you’re suddenly able to pull in, even if with the knife still present.
“Sorry for bothering you —just missed you is all,” you tell him, hearing him chuckle under his breath, telling you he knows.
“You always miss me,” he teases then, circling around to finally face you at the same time his blade trails up your skin, nicking your chin with a quick flick of his wrist, resulting in the tiniest cut.
For a moment it stings but then it’s soothed by the pressing of his thumb, reaching forward to swipe away the bit of blood that collects before forcing it towards your closed mouth. “Open.”
Your stomach twists with reluctance but regardless you do as he says, feeling the pad move to the back of your throat and slowly slide down, pulling your bottom lip down in the process.
“Ah, so you are still capable of obedience, my mistake.” Raising his brow, his thumb continues its descent, your lip bouncing back into place as his other fingers move to grip your chin, pulling you in —feeling his blade slip between your torsos without warning, the tip pressing against your ribcage. “Or perhaps your mistake?”
A short gasp falls between you as you struggle not to move further. Against your skin, the blade sits snugly at your centre, threatening to sink if you so much as shiver.
Across his face, Astarion adorns a wicked grin that has you secretly cursing his name for denying you his touch, especially when you know he wants it just as much.
“Now, are you going to be good or are we going to continue to have this little—“ he stops to clench his jaw, poking through the leathers of your vest so that you can taste a bit of pain that may or may not come, “—problem.”
Without hesitation you give him a nod, signalling your immediate obedience just as he pulls back the knife, and yanks you forward by your belt loops.
“Good. Cause I rather like you, despite the attitude.”
You’re tempted to laugh but refuse to so much as breathe as you move your hands cautiously to his chest, testing out the waters.
Thankfully they’re not as choppy as before. Instead, they’re slow and steady, allowing you to grip the collar of his shirt and grin, carefully pulling him down to press your outstretched neck against his teeth.
“I’m sorry for leaving.”
His tongue laps at your flesh almost instantly. Then, following behind, his lips suction themselves into the crook, making you inhale deeply, tightening the hold you have on his head. Feeling that bloom of contentment resurface once you hear the dropping of his knife and feel the softness of his touch start to roam.
It lasts only for a couple of seconds before you’re led towards the ground, back shoved forcibly against the dirt. It knocks the wind right out of you, prompting a choked-out gasp to sound just before he drags his teeth along the outside of your artery, but you hardly care. Every sensation after that comes and goes in quick succession, sending you into that familiar space of servitude that has you clutching the roots of his hair, trying to coast.
At first, the pain of his teeth descending into your veins takes over. Two pinpricks that remind you of the knives he often uses to keep you in line. Every inch of their movement makes you choke on your own spit, the sudden force of it pushing through each layer making you cry. Then you feel his tongue again. The way it ebbs and flows across the freshly made wound, sucking down every drop that’s presented.
At that point, the pain begins to subside a little. Replacing it, a newfound euphoria floats around your head with an almost cold emptiness, resulting in a slackness that has you barely holding onto Astarion’s hair as you softly moan.
Which makes him laugh against your throat. The reverb of his verbal torment only making things worse when you feel that final lick, watching as he comes back up for air. Your eyes are barely open then as you sleepily reach up and brush away a bit of blood from his cheek, feeling it collect at the tips before he’s fully popping your finger into his mouth. Then all you can focus on is the movement of his tongue again, how it swirls along your skin, teasing your mind with thoughts of it moving elsewhere.
After that, it’s all you can think about. Even after he’s relinquished your hand to rest against his cheek. Your thoughts fill with visions of him pressed between your thighs, sinking his tongue into your cunt. Drinking you up like the starving man you know him to be. Allowing his greed to take over in the form of a pleasure you know you don’t deserve.
That doesn’t stop you from trying to earn it though.
“Astarion.” Your hand drags him gently down again, focusing on the blood that still coats his lips. Smelling the iron tang of your life’s liquid tainted across his skin. “Can you—“
He already knows what you’re asking before you can finish. In the time you’ve been together, he’s tended to your every need just as you’ve done to him, so he’s already well aware of your desires. Of the desperation that coats your features when he begins to slip down carefully, already making work of his hands.
Before you know it you’re naked from the hips down, the cool air wafting along your skin before he settles in, laying on the forest floor with your thighs atop his shoulders. Then the warmth of his breath coasts along your cunt, causing you to twitch.
“So pretty,” he coos, a small laugh following suit once he feels the tightness of your thighs, wrapping around the sides of his head. Gently, he then readjusts his hand to the press against your entrance, ever so gently swiping up and down with two of his fingers. “And wet.”
You snort, quietly, feeling a bit embarrassed despite how many times you’ve done this. “Only for you, love.”
“Of course. No other man could render you so useless.” His fingers curl so that it’s his knuckles that are grazing you, pushing you slightly apart as he moves them up and down. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already—“
His fingers twist, his thumb pressing against your clit, sending your back upwards.
Your reaction makes him chuckle and return to his previous ministrations, this time even slower than before, forcing you to groan, knowing it’s your own fault. If you had just listened you wouldn’t have to deal with the teasing. The endless game you know is just beginning, feeling the way he languidly moves, grinning all the while.
“Is something the matter, darling?”
His breath is ghosting the spot you want him to fuck. His fingers are moving but not at all at the pace you need them to be, and frankly, you’re desperate. A mess of regret and lust all mixed together, rising throughout your chest.
“Astarion, please.”
You’re not above begging. You’ve done it loads of times before but considering your current lack patience, it’s hard not to think about the barely there veil of composure he knows he’s able to exploit in the most delicious of ways.
“I’m sorry, I can’t quite hear you, love. It’s a bit noisy down here with all the… wetness.”
You resist the urge to groan at his terrible joke, feeling a finger dip between your folds for just a moment before it’s gone again. “Please.”
“Please? Oh, my darling, whatever could you be pleasing me about?” He raises his head to grin, causing you to notice that your blood is still very much coated on his lips, drying as the seconds pass.
“I swear to g—“
Before you can defy further, he tuts menacingly, staring you down, forcing your mouth to close. “Don’t make me grab the knife.”
Immediately, you swallow your words and just nod your head, allowing yourself a moment to recuperate just as he chuckles and, without warning, presses his mouth to your clit, sending you closer to the edge.
It only lasts a second but it’s enough to have you fully committing, your voice loud and proud, verbally repeating your wants and needs without breath. Telling him how much you want him to touch you. To draw his tongue up and down your folds as he buries his face deep inside.
By the end of your spiel, you’re almost breathless and staring, your chest heaving up and down at the prospect of him finally giving in. Quickly, your eyes wander, exploring his features as his tongue pokes out to lick his bottom lip, forcing you to bite your own, wondering if he’ll do it. If he’ll finally grant you the release you so desperately need.
Looking between you and the one place you want him to focus his attention on, you see him smirk and sink three fingers in, pushing with little regard for the force that works against him.
“Do you truly think you’ve earned such a gift?” he asks, allowing his lips to split to reveal his bloodied teeth before they plunge themselves into the plush of your inner thigh, forcing you to cry as he denies you of your pleasure time and time again.
-
TAGLIST: @poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@mavix@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard
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#in my veins#astarion#astarion bg3#astarion x female reader#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion smut#summer writes
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"I'll be your mirror"
"I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. What you see."
You open your mind to Astarion, letting him see himself through the memories you've shared together since you met. You focus hardest on your favourite features of his, showing him his charming smile lines, the softness of his cupids bow, the way his silver hair curls around his pointy ears, those piercing sultry eyes, and the two subtle moles that adorn his left cheek.
"That's... That's me!" He stares at you wide eyed with disbelief, but you sense a certain sadness in his tone. His hands instinctively reach up to his own cheeks and remain there for a couple of seconds before the left trails down his neck to caress the two healed wounds punctured into his skin.
"I look so familiar, yet if I walked past myself in the city I wouldn't know it was me. That face... The red eyes, the fangs, I've never seen them and it's quite unsettling. You'd think after two hundred years I'd get used to the idea."
"Aside from the new additions, is it what you remember?"
"I.. I don't know." His voice catches. "I tried to hang on to the memories, to keep myself feeling, well, me. It's like when someone dies, after so long your memory fails you and their features become a blur, no matter how much you want to remember them. I don't even remember what colour those eyes were before they turned red."
He furrows his brow while his arms drop to his sides. A defeated sigh escapes his lips.
"Well, you've nothing to worry about. You've got a very good face."
His shoulders roll back and he lifts his chin, assuming his usual self-assured stance. "Oh darling, I knew I looked good. It's nice to have a reminder of how good." He winks, flashing a cheeky fanged smile.
Despite his wit, you can hear the gratitude in his voice while he takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, my love."
You nudge the shattered mirror on the floor with your foot. "You won't be needing that anymore. I will be your mirror whenever you desire."
#i wish we had an option for this in game#i haven't written in years but my heart was aching#astarion#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#astarion x you#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x durge#bg3 astarion#bg3#astarion bg3#astarion fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#astarion fanfiction#baldurs gate 3 astarion#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction#bg3 fanfic
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Late Night Desires PART 2! ✨💗🌙
Astarion x Fem!Chubby!Reader x Halsin
(Reader is AFAB and is referred to with she/her pronouns and terms like "good girl". )
AN: Thank you all SO much for all the wonderful comments and likes on part 1! And a super-duper big thank you to everyone that voted in the poll! 😁 Don't worry, I intend on writing more for these dudes, so if your favourite poll option didn't win, look lout for it in a future fic! I hope part 2 is to your likings! This is super-horny, super-filthy, and super-delicious... Just like our favourite bloodsucking twink and bear daddy~ Enjoy!
Lying back on the soft grass, you bit your lip as you watched the two men above you appreciate each other's bodies with their hands, lips locked in a passionate kiss. Astarion’s soft, pale hands exploring the swells of Halsin’s muscles, and Halsin's huge hands sliding down the slender curve of Astarion's waist.
You were still feeling the gentle waves of residual pleasure wash over you from your previous orgasm, sweat cooling on your skin in the midnight air, but you could feel yourself getting excited again watching the two men. You dropped a hand between your thick thighs and whimpered as you brushed your oversensitive pussy, soft and wet and relaxed from Halsin's expert fingering. Your noise alerted the two elves and they parted from their kiss, looking down at you.
“Poor little thing,” Astarion cooed with sarcastic pity, “needing more already, are you?”
You trailed your gaze down Halsin’s body, over his broad chest, down his stomach that was mouthwatering layers of muscle and fat, down the hair-dusted treasure trail where it disappeared into his leather leggings which looked to be on the verge of bursting at the seams thanks to the very obvious erection the druid was sporting.
“I am, but I’m not the only one,” you said with a smile and extended your leg, using it to brush over Halsin’s covered cock. The druid let out a quiet groan at the treatment and you made your desire known, “I… I want to take both of you, with my mouth, and with my…”
“A wonderful idea,” Halsin praised and leaned over you, dragging the pad of his thumb over your soft lips, “I'd love a chance to feel your sweet mouth, little one.”
With his considerable strength, Halsin helped you flip over onto your stomach, letting out a pleased rumble at the view, “What a treat… So supple and round,” he remarked, moving to your front, “like a decadent dessert for us.”
“Isn’t she the sweetest?” Astarion purred and took a handful of your thick ass, fingernails sinking into your soft skin and making you whimper at the light, pleasurable pain, “Mm… she’s still leaking back here.” You whimpered as Astarion’s hand came down to cup your pussy. You gasped harshly as he laid a firm smack over it, making blood rush to your face in embarrassment at the feeling and the lewd, wet noise it made alongside Astarion’s accompanying laughter.
Halsin took your face in his hand and made you look up at him. He smiled at your docile, doe-eyed expression, “Are you ready?” You nodded and you could see his eyes darken with lust, “Do you think you can be a good girl and take all of me?” Again, you nodded, more eagerly this time, the praise tickling your brain and making you squish your thighs together. You licked your lips and smiled up at Halsin.
“Such a needy thing, isn’t she?” Astarion teased, and you could hear him stroking himself again, getting himself hard again, “I’m glad you decided to join us, Halsin, perhaps together, we’ll finally be able to satisfy her.”
You rolled your eyes playfully and looked over your shoulder at your vampiric lover, “Oh, right, I’m the insatiable one…” you teased right back and Halsin laughed heartily.
“I have a good feeling we’ll all end the night satisfied, little one, now please look back this way,” he gently guided your face back towards him, and your eyes widened as you saw he had lowered his leggings, letting his manhood free from its leather confines at last, “Do you like what you see?”
You moaned at the sight and could hear Astarion groan from behind you as well. It was at least nine inches of thick, hard cock, with a soft bush of hair at the base and two heavy-looking balls that seemed to be sloshing with potent seed. You felt your mouth water and you swallowed the drool accumulating in your mouth before you boldly leaned forward and kissed it, feeling the thick vein along the bottom throb at the affection. Halsin’s hand cradled your cheek as though you were made of glass, “I will try to be gentle, but you are making it quite difficult to hold back…” he warned and lined his cock up with your pretty, pouty lips.
You could feel your arousal growing once more as you slowly took Halsin’s length into your mouth. You felt the bulbous head slide past your tongue, his foreskin sliding past your lips. You moaned around his length at the musky, masculine smell coming from his loins, and you felt a dribble of your slick slide down your inner thighs.
“Very good, darling,” Astarion praised softly and you moaned around Halsin’s cock as you felt Astarion line up his own sizable cock with your drooling pussy, “now get ready,” he quickly slammed home, his narrow hips colliding with your cushy ass with a loud smack, and you cried out around Halsin’s thick length. You heard Astarion shudder out a moan behind you, “So fucking hot and wet, you’re simply divine, darling…”
You felt your mind grow fuzzy, thoughts turning into pleads for ‘more, harder, faster!’ Halsin’s slow, careful drag of his cock over your tongue to bump against the back of your throat contrasted Astarion’s greedy, fast slams into your cunt, your body jiggling with the movement.
“Such a perfect girl,” Halsin sighed as you worked your tongue along his frenulum, “taking the both of us so well~”
Astarion’s hands sank into the plush fat of your waist, holding you steady as his hips drilled into you, “Nnh, yes, such a perfect little pet, with such a delicious body… tell us who this body belongs to, darling~” he purred.
Halsin withdrew his cock long enough for you to gasp in a breath and cry out “You! It belongs to you! Astarionnnh~Hah-Halsin!!” Your eyes rolled back as Halsin stuffed your mouth once more, this time sliding all the way into your throat, his huge hands holding your jaw as you did your best not to gag on the huge cock. You could taste his salty precum smearing on your tongue. Delicious.
“You’re so good… so good,” Halsin growled, giving himself over to his pleasure, “Gods, I’m close…”
You moaned around him, eager to get a taste of his cum, when Astarion thrust inside you as deep as he could go, grinding, /grinding/ against your sweet spot and making you whine around the length stuffing your throat. Astarion landed a hard smack on your ass and you whimpered, hearing him grunt.
“Do you want to switch? You did want to breed her, after all.” he teased breathily.
Halsin nodded tightly and you felt your jaw go slack as he withdrew his cock. You saw it, dripping with your saliva and his delicious precum, twitching hard. You whined as Astarion pulled out of you slowly and you felt his hand pet your back soothingly, “Don’t worry, love, you won’t be empty for long~”
The two men switched positions, you smiled seeing how creamy Astarion’s cock had become as he fucked you. Slick evidence of your arousal was glistening on his cock, making it shine in the moonlight. Astarion’s hand wove into your hair and you leaned forward, licking his cock from base to tip.
“Dirty girl,” he rasped with a grin, “tasting yourself on my cock?”
You hummed an affirmative, looking up into his beautiful red eyes as you continued cleaning him. You felt Halsin’s hands spread you open and your breathing hitched, feeling the druid’s cock prod the back of your thighs.
“She’s so wet,” he remarked, “are you ready for me?”
Astarion let you go long enough for you to look back at Halsin. You could see him stroking his cock, staring at your twitching pussy with an almost intoxicated look.
“Yes, Halsin!” You panted, shaking your hips and making your ass jiggle for him, “I want you to fuck me, too!”
Astarion moaned and urged you on, “And then what, pet?”
You whimpered needily, wanting Halsin’s cock to stuff you full, “Y-your cum… I want you to cum inside me, Halsin, please!”
“Very good, darling,” Astarion praised and the both of you watched as Halsin’s face gained a look of absolute rapture as he sunk into you. You choked on a loud moan as you felt his massive manhood slip into your wet pussy, dragging along your juicy, twitching walls. You felt a droplet of drool leak out of your mouth.
“Silvanus preserve me,” Halsin groaned, long and loud, “you feel so good, so tight…” he hissed, stilling when he was only half-way in.
Astarion turned you back to face him, and he traced his thumb over your mouth, collecting the drop of drool you let slip on the pad of his thumb before he pushed it back in your mouth. He sneered down at you, but you could see the love in those crimson eyes, “/Messy/ girl, you’re already falling to pieces, aren’t you?” He pressed his leaking cockhead back to your lips, “Suck.”
With bleary eyes, you obeyed, moaning around Astarion’s cock as Halsin continued to press into you. You whined as the druid finally bottomed out; you felt his heavy balls pressing tightly to your oversensitive little clit, you felt his huge hands bracing himself on your squishy waist, but most distracting and pleasurable of all, you felt his flaring cockhead kiss your cervix, his girth pressing tightly against your walls! You flexed around him, begging Halsin to fuck you stupid while your mouth was occupied.
Soon you were rocked back and forth, the men settling on a pattern that rocked you back on the druid’s massive cock, then forwards so Astarion could fuck your throat. They made sure neither your mouth or pussy was empty at a time. You clutched the grass beneath you like a lifeline, you felt like you were losing your higher brain functions. Nothing else mattered in this beautiful moment other than the pleasure you felt, and the pleasure your lovers were taking from you, greedily fucking your sweet little holes like their lives depended on it.
You heard Halsin let out a deep groan and his hands migrated from your waist to your hanging belly, holding you tight, his own warm belly and chest pressing into your back as he took you in a more bestial position. The thought of Halsin losing control as he pounded you, losing his own grip on propriety and fucking you like a wild animal, made you scream around Astarion’s length and the vampire withdrew from you briefly and cupped your jaw as you whined long and loud, announcing your second orgasm of the night. Halsin fucked you through it, rasping and grunting filthy praise all the while.
“Perfect girl, cum on my cock, such a good girl. Surely you can do it again for me, yes?”
You nodded helplessly as you convulsed around his pistoning cock, drool freely dripping from your parted lips, “Uh huh!” you could only whine in reply.
With a long index finger and thumb, Astarion squished your chubby cheeks together, making you pout. You heard him click his tongue down at you, “What a greedy girl we have~ Already cumming again?” he used his other hand to guide his cock to your mouth, lightly slapping your cushiony lips with his angry red cockhead, “help me cum and we’ll see to that third orgasm you need.”
Haslin let out a breathy laugh from behind you, groping your soft ass as he slowed his pace, letting you recover a bit, “Third, fourth… however many she wishes!”
“You’re already spoiling her!” Astarion whined, but you could hear his smile, even when you closed your eyes to obediently take his cock back onto your tongue, “Though she does beg to be spoiled, doesn’t she? To be pampered and fucked full all day long. Thaaat’s a good pet~” he cooed to you as his fingers wound into your soft tresses.
With a nod from you, the two men resumed their steady pace. Astarion in, Halsin out. Halsin in, Astrarion out… The noises you three were making filled the air around you; your sweet, muffled whines mixed with Astarion’s low voice spitting vile taunts mixed with sincere, divine praise, and Halsin’s rough, almost animalistic growls and grunts as he became more and more desperate. The symphony of your voices was accompanied by the filthy, wet noises of Astarion fucking your sloppy mouth, and Halsin drilling your gushing, oversensitive pussy. You felt your breasts and stomach swinging under you with every movement, felt Halsin’s broad hips slapping your cushy ass with every deep thrust he gave, dragging his heavy cock along your sweet spot before it squeezed against your cervix. You felt his heavy balls kiss your hard little clit before he dropped a hand under you to circle it, making your eyes roll back. You wondered if you would cum again before the men did?
You didn’t have long to ponder that before you heard Astarion hiss out a strained warning, “Fuck, darling, I’m going to cum,” he pulled your hair back hard and you whined in pleasurable pain. You looked up blearily into Astarion’s gorgeous red eyes that were burning with intense lust, “I’m going to shoot straight down your throat, you will swallow every last drop,” he ordered, withdrawing for a moment so you could breathe, “then you’ll thank me for the meal. Understand?” he grinned sharply as you nodded, his smile nearing on crazed, and he licked his lips before plunging down your throat.
Your eyes rolled back in your head, Halsin continuing to pound you while you felt Astarion release pump after pump of hot, bitter cum right down your throat. The vein on the underside of his manhood throbbed against your tongue. The vampire’s head rolled back and he let out a long, beautiful moan as he fed you. Halsin slowed down his pace for a moment, letting you swallow the thick fluid as AStarion withdrew his spent cock.
Good, obedient girl that you were, you smiled up at him hazily and licked your lips, “Thank you for the meal, Astarion~” you panted, showing him your empty mouth.
“Perfect pet,” Astarion praised and caressed your beautiful, soft face, catching his breath, “Now, let dear Halsin finish you off!” he nodded back at Halsin and you cried as the druid started up at a punishing pace.
You writhed beneath him, sweat dripping onto the grass under you as your toes curled in the night air. Both you and Halsin were beyond the point of words, just crying and moaning and grunting and screaming as pleasure overtook you. Halsin took greedy handfuls of your plush fat, using it as an anchor to pull you back on his cock, drilling deeper and deeper, hitting spots inside you never touched before. It was all too much! Too much! The feeling of that massive cock fucking you with intent to breed, Halsin’s strong arms holding you in place while Astarion’s hands now held you as if you were a delicate, priceless gem, the taste of Astarion’s cum at the back of your throat. You couldn’t hold back your voice, whiny and far-gone.
“Gonna cum gonna cum gonna cum- Halsin! HALSIIIN!” You screamed into the night as your body bent, thrashing as orgasm overtook you. Your vision went white as Halsin growled behind you.
“Gods, yes! Cum on this cock!” He railed you through it, body on top of yours, nearly pressing you into the dirt as you squirted around his cock, “take my seed, take all of my- oh fuck-!”
You felt yourself spasm in your lovers’ hold, cumming again, gentler, as you felt Halsin empty a torrent of hot, sticky cum into your womb. Halsin gasped for breath as he gave a few final thrusts, as if ensuring every drop of his seed was safely planted in you. He slowly pulled out and you whined at the sudden loss, and you held a hand over your well-used pussy to make sure nothing leaked out.
Halsin laid back on the grass, and Astarion guided your boneless body to lay next to him. You immediately curled around Halsin, one of his strong arms wrapping protectively around your shoulders. Astarion joined his other side, also being pulled to cuddle on top of the druid.
You sighed blissfully. Your sweat had cooled in the night air, but you were warmed by the men near you, and you could tell the feeling was more than mutual. The moon and stars shone above you, providing light so you could see your lovers’ satisfied smiles.
Astarion fluffed his hair, which had gotten more than a bit tousled during your fun, “Well, Halsin, I sincerely hope you enjoyed yourself as much as we did,” he propped his chin up on one of Halsin’s pecs and gave him a coy smile, “I would very much like to do this again~”
Haslin let out a quiet laugh and his chest rumbled with it, “If the both of you would be willing to have me again, I would love that.”
You nuzzled into Halsin’s neck and pressed a warm kiss to his sticky, sweat-lined skin, “Mmh~ I’d love that. There’s so much I’d love to try with you two.”
Astarion grinned and reached over, tasking your hand in his own, “Really, darling~? Do tell us, then. What could possibly be on your mind?” Halsin and Astarion looked down at you, curious with a faint spark of renewed lust.
You shook your head, “I’ll tell you next time,” you let out a yawn as fatigue creeped up on you, “but… don’t let me stop you two from fooling around if you’re not spent yet.” you added with a playful smile.
Halsin pinched your cheek and you giggled, “Naughty little thing,” he teased, but he cast a glance at Astarion, “Though… if you wanted, Astarion…?” he left the question hang.
Astarion huffed and hid his blushing face on the other side of Halsin’s neck, “And you call me insatiable!? I need my beauty rest!”
Halsin laughed and pulled you and Astarion closer, “Well then, beauties, why don’t we rest? We can regroup with the others in the morning.”
You and Astarion agreed, and snuggled up to the cuddly druid until the sun eventually bathed your bodies in it’s warm embrace. Though you had to admit, now you would prefer the embrace of your vampire and your druid any day.
~💞~
AN2: Oh!! Taglist! I'm gonna tag everyone who liked to the taglist post I made PLUS everyone who commented about part two on the first part lmao~
@bamblepee @nova-starion @rosaliemizzrym @cross-stitch-grandma @serendipitous-fernweh @winnieshitposts-blog @audreonne @missusbarnes-rogers @darkprincemara @iwannabealocalcryptid @flowerfoxsstuff @teramjna @huuvu @somewhereonliknow @exophelia @absinthe-adonis @aquarivsrot
#bg3 astarion#chubby reader#baldur's gate 3#bg3 halsin#fat reader#smut#baldur's gate 3 smut#Pajama Writes#halsin x reader#astarion x reader#halsin x astarion#female reader
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I have had a thought.
I was playing bg3, making a sorcerer tav and I saw one of the options was draconic bloodline and it gives your scales on your face.
I thought it was really cool and I was wondering if maybe you could write something about how companions (mainly astarion and halsin) would react to tav having scales. Like imagine when they first met tav covered their face and then boom! Handsome man with dragon scales.
What do you think about it? TOODLES
Draconic sorceror is literally one of my favourite classes and I love to think what the companions would think of the scales (they would all love them)
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Astarion:
When you first met Astarion, you were prepared for the usual reactions: curious stares, uneasy glances, or the rare, but always tiresome, gasp of surprise. After all, dragon scales covering your face were not something most people encountered in their daily lives. The faint, iridescent sheen that danced across your scales in the light often drew attention, and not always the good kind.
But Astarion’s reaction was different. When his eyes first landed on you, there was no trace of fear or discomfort—only fascination. His gaze lingered on your face, his lips curving into a sly smile as he approached you with that effortless grace of his.
“My, my,” he had murmured, his voice low and smooth as silk. “Aren’t you a sight to behold? I’ve seen many things in my time, but nothing quite like you.”
You remember the way he had reached out, as if asking for permission to touch, his fingers hovering just above your skin. When you had nodded, slightly surprised but intrigued, he had traced the contours of your scales with a delicate touch, as though they were made of the finest glass.
“Beautiful,” Astarion had whispered, almost to himself. His eyes had been filled with something akin to awe, and you had felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with your draconic blood. “Absolutely captivating.”
As your relationship deepened -and you became able to trust his honeyed words once more, you found that Astarion’s fascination with your scales only grew. He loved to explore them with his hands, his lips, and his words. On quiet nights, after the day’s battles and struggles were behind you, he would often lie beside you, his eyes fixed on your face with an intensity that made your heart race.
One such evening, you were lying together in your tent, the firelight casting flickering shadows across the walls. The camp was quiet, the others having settled in for the night, leaving you and Astarion in the comforting cocoon of each other’s company.
Astarion’s head rested on your chest, his fingers lazily tracing the lines of your scales. His touch was light, almost reverent, as if he were committing every inch of you to memory. He lifted his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips.
“Have I told you how much I adore these?” he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper as his fingers continued their journey across your face.
“Once or twice,” you replied with a smile, your own voice tinged with amusement. But the truth was, hearing him say it never got old. There was something deeply comforting in the way Astarion admired this part of you that others had often feared or found unsettling.
Astarion chuckled, the sound low and warm, before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the edge of your jaw where the scales began. His lips were soft, cool against the warmth of your skin, and he took his time, moving slowly along the line of your scales, kissing each one with care.
You closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, a deep sense of peace settling in your chest. His kisses traveled up your cheek, his breath warm against your skin as he continued his slow exploration.
“You are truly magnificent,” he murmured against your temple, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “Every time I look at you, I find something new to fall in love with.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to gently run your fingers through his silver hair, the strands slipping like silk between your fingers.
“I’m glad you think so,” you replied, your voice full of emotion. “Because I can’t imagine my life without you.”
Astarion pulled back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes shining with a mixture of affection and something deeper, something almost possessive.
“You won’t have to,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I’m not going anywhere, my dearest dragon.”
He leaned in to kiss you fully on the lips, his mouth warm and insistent against yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, a silent promise that echoed the words he had just spoken. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the tent.
“Now, let’s see if I can find any more scales to admire,” Astarion teased, his playful grin returning as his fingers resumed their exploration, trailing down your neck and across your shoulders. You laughed softly, the sound filled with both amusement and contentment.
“Take your time,” you whispered, your voice laced with affection. “I’m not going anywhere either.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Halsin:
When you first met Halsin, you could feel his gaze on you the moment you walked into the camp. As a draconic sorcerer, you were no stranger to stares—people often found your dragon scales captivating or intimidating. The scales that adorned your face were a visible mark of your draconic heritage, shimmering with an iridescent hue that caught the light in ways that made them almost seem alive. But Halsin’s gaze wasn’t one of fear or unease. No, his eyes were filled with something deeper, something that made your breath catch in your throat.
Halsin was a man of nature, someone who revered the natural world in all its forms. When he looked at you, it was as though he was seeing a rare and beautiful creature, something that had been crafted by the hands of the gods themselves. His brown eyes, warm and earthy, followed you with a mixture of admiration and a hint of something more—a longing that he tried to suppress, not wanting to come on too strong.
It wasn’t long before the two of you grew closer, your connection deepening with each passing day. Halsin’s reverence for nature extended to his reverence for you, and as your relationship became more established, he no longer held back his admiration for your unique features.
One evening, you were sitting together by the campfire, the warmth of the flames casting a soft glow across the camp. Halsin sat beside you, his large frame a comforting presence. He reached out, his hand hovering near your face, and you could see the hesitance in his eyes, as if he was still unsure whether you were comfortable with such an intimate gesture.
“May I?” he asked, his voice low and full of respect.
You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Of course, Halsin.”
His hand, large and calloused from years of working with the earth, gently cupped the side of your face. His thumb brushed against the scales that covered your cheek, and a shiver ran down your spine at the tenderness of his touch. Halsin’s eyes were locked onto yours, his expression one of pure adoration.
“Your scales,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe, “are truly magnificent. I’ve seen many wonders in nature, but none as captivating as you.”
You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your heart swelling with affection for the druid who had come to mean so much to you. Halsin’s hand moved slowly, his fingers tracing the contours of your scales as though he were mapping every detail, committing it to memory. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he believed you to be the finest creature nature had ever produced.
“Do you know,” Halsin continued, his voice barely more than a whisper, “that every time I look at you, I am reminded of the power and beauty of the natural world? Your scales are a testament to that—a blend of strength and grace, as all things in nature should be.”
You couldn’t help the flush that rose to your cheeks, though you knew it would be barely noticeable against your scales. Halsin’s words had a way of cutting through any insecurities you might have had, filling you with a sense of pride in who you were and what you represented.
“I’ve always thought of my scales as a reminder of where I come from,” you admitted, your voice soft as you gazed into Halsin’s eyes. “But you make me feel like they’re something more, something to be proud of.”
Halsin smiled then, a warm and gentle expression that made your heart skip a beat. “They are a gift, as are you,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek once more. “A gift from the dragons to the world, and I am honored to be in your presence.”
He leaned in then, his lips brushing against your scales in a series of soft, reverent kisses. Each one sent a thrill through you, a reminder of the deep connection you shared with this man who saw you not just as a sorcerer, but as something truly extraordinary.
As he continued to kiss along the line of your scales, you closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you. Halsin’s touch was grounding, his presence a balm to your soul. He treated you with a respect that went beyond mere affection—it was as though he truly believed you to be the embodiment of nature’s finest work.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes met yours, and you could see the depth of his feelings reflected in them.
“You are a wonder,” he said softly, his hand still resting on your cheek. “And I will never tire of telling you so.”
You smiled, leaning into his touch, your heart full to bursting with the love and admiration you felt for this man who had so completely captivated you in return. “And I will never tire of hearing it,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth.
Halsin’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, a tender, lingering kiss that spoke of all the things he couldn’t put into words. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the night.
“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice full of a quiet plea. “Always.”
“Always,” you echoed, your voice full of promise. And as you sat there together, the fire crackling softly beside you, you knew that there was nowhere else you would rather be.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Aww some wholesome stuff with Astarion and Halsin, love it. Hope you guys enjoyed it too! - Seluney xox
If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 tav#baldurs gate tav#astarion#astarion ancunin#spawn astarion x reader#spawn astarion#ascended astarion x dark urge#astarion x m!reader#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x m!tav#halsin x reader#bg3 halsin#halsin#halsin silverbough#halsin bg3#bg3 halsin silverbough
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Something real
I thought I’d play around with an Astarion POV and this is what happened.
Connected with my other headcanon fics, would take place after this one, but before the end of this one. You don’t have to read them for this to make sense though. (But you totally should!)
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV
Comfort, fluff, budding love, banter, humour, Act 1 spoilers, non-explicit, light angst, probably too much swearing
Approximately 2,000 words.
AO3
You were lying alone by the fire, waiting for her to join you, trying once again to untangle the mess this woman made in your head.
What exactly were you, to each other?
Were you just temporary travelling companions having meaningless sex for stress relief?
Or were you lovers in the more literal sense of that word?
And is that what you wanted..? To be someone’s, whom you could call your own? To have something real..?
It should have been simple, except the lines kept shifting and blurring. And needless to say, this wasn’t at all what you had initially intended.
All you knew was, this deliciously ambiguous time at the end of your evenings, when you just talked – this was your favourite time of day.
You were restless with anticipation, now that everyone else had finally gone to sleep or was shuffling around in their tents.
Except she was nowhere to be seen.
You could always slip into her tent, she might even have been waiting for you there now – but then you'd most likely wind up putting on the ‘seductive lusty lover’ mask, and as fun as that was, it’s not what you wanted right now.
You were getting impatient.
You wondered just how undignified and out of character it would be to simply go to her tent and lure her out on some pretense, like the stars being particularly bright, or some similar horseshit. You glanced at the sky. The stars weren’t even visible.
Fuck. ...Well, she’d just laugh at that anyway.
But lo and behold, there she was at last, plundered bottle of wine in hand. You bit your tongue to avoid addressing her with any of your habitual epithets, for which she’d rebuked you on numerous occasions, but she went ahead and did it for you herself anyway:
“Here I am! The wind beneath your wings, the rose among your thorns! The fire in your furnace, the... uh... help me out here, will you?”
“The biting canines in my buttock.”
“There we go! A touch predictable, but no less eloquent for it.”
She sat down, right next to your head, stretching her legs out towards the fire, and gave you a searching and expectant look, not saying anything.
You raised a quizzical eyebrow back at her.
“Well come on, scooch up,” she said with a playful smile on her lips.
You lifted slightly on your elbows and laid your head in her lap.
This is new.
“Can I offer you something to drink?” she asked, waving a wrist, and then the wine in the other hand suggestively at you.
“Not tonight, dear,” you chuckled. “I had quite a successful boar hunt while the rest of you were playing hero in the foothills.”
“Suit yourself.” She took a drink straight from the bottle and stared off into the fire, her other hand absentmindedly running through your hair. You resisted the urge to lean further into her touch.
“What’s on your mind?” you asked after the silence went on a touch too long.
“I would like you to explain something to me.” she said quietly.
You instinctively tensed, your mind racing, wondering what you could have possibly done or let slip.
“...Why in the fuck do you lot listen to and take directions from me? Do none of you realize I’m just a shit-talking clown and have no idea what I’m doing?” the tone of her voice was flat.
...Ah. That.
“This ‘clown’ led us unscathed through a subversive operation in a goblin camp. Mostly via shit-talking. You even convinced one of them to lick your boot!” you shook your head incredulously. “Give yourself credit where it’s due. Do you think anyone else here could have pulled that off?”
I probably could have. Wouldn’t. But could have.
She took a swig from the bottle, considering your question. “Well you definitely could have done the same. You’d just choose not to. ...why are you laughing?”
“Never mind that. Would you like me to take over for you, darling?”
“Good heavens, no!” she grimaced in mock horror. “Just stay at my side, as my moral compass.”
“Your moral compass?”
“When in doubt, I ask myself ‘What would Astarion do?’, and do the opposite. Usually that’s good enough to keep everyone happy and keep bloodshed to a minimum.”
You’re not wrong.
“But gods it’s been exhausting...” she was sombre again. “They all want something, and they all think their problem is the most urgent. ‘We must go to the creche – no, we must go to Moonrise – no, but my heart will explode – no, but I and everything around me will explode’” she was getting riled up, gesticulating with the bottle in her hand. You were worried it would fly out of her grip. She paused to collect herself.
“At least your demands are too insane to entertain in the first place,” she continued with a weary grin. “‘Embrace the tadpole, take over a cult, fight squirrels, commit genocide’” - she did her best to mimic your manner of speaking, then rolled her eyes and took another swig from the bottle.
“Never know where a little thinking outside the box might lead you, dear.” I just want my freedom, whatever it takes. ...And that squirrel was looking at you funny. “And you? What do you want?”
“A hot bath, new lute strings, and a cat to cuddle,” she answered without hesitation.
You couldn’t think of anything better than to emit a very convincing meow.
It must have taken her by surprise - she glanced down at you, eyes wide, before bursting out laughing and scratching you behind the ear.
You hated to admit it, but you were very pleased with yourself, making her laugh like that.
“My pointy-eared feline predator,” she murmured, looking into your eyes and smiling, as she slowly and delicately ran her finger along the edge of your ear, right to the tip, which felt... divine, actually.
This... this was too intimate for someone you just had meaningless sex with, right?
You heard some rustling and footsteps nearby, too casual to be an intruder, probably just someone walking off to relieve themselves.
She jerked her hand away from you, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, and actually made a motion as if to get up, before you stopped her with a gentle hand on her wrist, still lying with your head in her lap.
“Hey... Hold on... Now you explain something to me. Earlier today, you burst into camp covered in hyena entrails, yelled ‘My star!’, threw yourself on me, legs and arms and all, like some deranged monkey, and made me spin you around, kissing you. ...But this is what embarrasses you?”
“That was putting on a silly act,” she said sheepishly. “And this is...” she faltered, looking for the right words.
Real..?
“Not intended for anyone else’s eyes.”
Real.
"Well everyone can direct their eyes elsewhere, then,” you responded, unable to contain a smile.
It’s real.
...Ahah!
“Oh, and you’re absolutely adorable, by the way,” you added.
She flicked you lightly on the nose and looked away. Was she blushing?
“Anyway. It’s Gale that worries me the most.”
Fucking Gale.
“He said the last artifact he consumed hardly did anything. He doesn’t know how much longer he can contain it. He’s inconsolable.” she continued.
“Perhaps we should all stop worrying and embrace the orb explosion. At least that will mean we won’t have to deal with anything else, ever.” you suggested. This was helpful, right?
“I wish I could do something to help, or at least get his mind off it for a while.”
Of course you do, you bleeding heart.
“And how might you ‘get his mind off it’, exactly?”
“I think we should seduce him,” she looked you straight in the eyes and said in a deadpan manner.
Oh, sliding off a serious topic straight back into fuckery with a straight face, are we? I know that game very well.
“Darling, even without the orb, he would literally explode if you held eye contact with him a second too long. He’s been pining for you since you pulled him out of that rock.” You waved a dismissive hand in Gale’s general direction. “The kindest thing you can do for him is give all your undivided attention to me, so he never has a glimmer of hope.”
Bloody Gale with his manicured beard, puppydog eyes and cooking skills...
“Well, while we’re on the topic, I still think we should seduce someone, to spice camp life up a bit. How about Lae’zel?” she continued.
“Lae’zel would skewer both of us if we approached her.”
...and his warm hands...
“Shadowheart?”
“...You know, I’m pretty sure Lae’zel would skewer us for that, too. Perhaps all three of us, on the same blade.”
...and his ability to find kind and empathetic words in any situation. ...Shame about the orb though.
“What about...” she grinned, “daddy Halsin?”
You exchanged a meaningful look.
Ha! Well there’s a curious thought. I wonder if he could contain himself, or if he would turn into a bear. How... dangerous.
“Let’s revisit that thought later.” you said pensively.
“Karlach is impossible, of course...” she continued. “That leaves Wyll.”
“Oh please,” you chortled. “Even if he wasn’t depressed over the whole... demonic horns and abducted parent conundrum. He strikes me as the ‘wait until marriage’ type. And he’d want to do the seducing himself.”
“I’m not so sure about the marriage part. He would keep it proper and gentlemanly though.” she thoughtfully tapped her lower lip with a finger. “Multiple extravagant dates to impress his sweetheart before making any moves, the whole shabang. You wouldn’t want him to try to sweep you off your feet?”
“Just me? No no, we are in this together.” you remarked. “And he could certainly afford to woo us both at once, being the son of a duke.”
“Weeks of wining and dining us, waiting for the fires of ‘true love’ to fully ignite...” she said contemplatively, gazing into the fire.
“Smothering us with red roses, romantic moonlit carriage rides and ballroom dancing...” you copied her tone.
“Until finally railing you on a grand piano one day, while I whipped him with a switch,” she said with a devilish grin.
“You absolute uncouth filth!” it was your turn to be taken off-guard as you shook with laughter.
You incredible, ridiculous, mad thing... I would spend another year locked alone and hungry in a tomb, if it meant keeping you alive and safe.
Something in your chest twisted.
Did I really just think that?
Yes, yes I did.
You needed to stop and consider what just came into your head. And give yourself a good slap in the face. But for now, more than anything, you desperately needed to switch your brain off.
You sat up and kissed her, pulling her into an embrace.
“You crazy idiot, what am I going to do with you?” you whispered, briefly touching your forehead to hers.
“Something nasty, I hope,” she answered with a cheeky smile. But there was more warmth than lust in her eyes.
“My tent or yours?” you asked softly, trailing a finger down a bare arm.
“Do you have vials of boar blood everywhere?”
“Yes. Do you have everything you’ve collected, ever, everywhere?”
“...Yes.”
Hoarder. I would give you a whole palace to decorate, just to see what you would do with it.
Sigh... “I guess I could accommodate you for a short while.”
Please stay all night.
On a sudden whim, you swept her up in your arms as you got up, carrying her to your tent.
What in the hells was I thinking?
“Oh!” she gasped, surprised. “My... I don’t suppose you’ve got a grand piano in there?”
“We’ll have to make do with my trunk, I’m afraid.”
“And they say romance is dead.”
None of this was going according to plan.
Fuck the plan.
You felt like a cretin and a fraud as you carried her off. But you’d make it right. She deserved something better. Something real.
And so did you, godsdamnit.
I’ll tell her... Just not today.
~~~~~
Next in series - Are you mine?
This work is part of a series - here is the master list
AO3
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♡ halsin x astarion headcanons ♡
Halsin thinks Astarion is utterly beautiful and that's how it begins; through his fascination with a pale elf
and let me say; Halsin is not shy, he will tell Astarion how he feels about him rather quickly, he will be adoring him, showering him compliments and though Astarion may not always show it, he secretly enjoys these
but what Astarion is the most fond of is Halsin's words of devotion, his little assurances that Astarion is cherished and loved
of course he often heard words like these, but it was all a lie, soft words and behind those was lust. But Halsin is not like this, he can't be
Astarion feels good in Halsin's presence. he admires him even, his strong body and he gaze at it unabashed.
sometimes he likes to tease Halsin about his abundant hair (so unusual for an elf), but at the same you can hear a pang of fascination in his voice
Halsin is aware of Astarion troubled past, though Astarion not say much on that matters; Halsin just knows. He can see it, sense it and knows Astarion needs a lot of reassurance, even if he's not communicating it very well
so they play a long game, but Halsin is willing to wait
with kind words and soft touches Astarion slowly opens up, show vulnerability, which is not easy for someone like him
at nights, where there's only them Astarion loves being in Halsin's robust arms, it gives him peace
Halsin caresses his face and he's leaning into his hand like a kitten hungry of affection (which makes halsin's heart melt even more)
sometimes Astarion is snappy, is mean, sometimes he's frustrated and spit his words just to hurt and get a reaction, but Halsin's a true stoic at heart and you can't get him mad like this. he knows Astarion don't want to push him really, he's just scared and lost
Halsin can see through Astarion’s snarky remarks and responding with gentleness (and sometimes sarcasm as well, he can be witty when he wants to)
There is not denying the fact that Halsin is calm and his inner calmness has a soothing affect on Astarion. he slowly learns to accept and live freely
and as for Astarion, he shows his love in small endearing ways I feel
he often surprised Halsin with random kisses, enjoying the simplicity of a kiss being just a kiss
sometimes he sits on Halsin's lap, being in the moment, enjoying his warmth and presence
Halsin allows Astarion to do anything that pleases him basically, he let's Astarion set boundaries in their relationship and he's just enjoying tender moments with his pale lover, no matter what they are
about blood; I think drinking Halsin's blood more often than not ends up in some intimate way, as I can't imagine at lest one of them not getting a boner during the process
Astarion drinks Halsin's blood with such care and eagerness, not letting a drop go to waste and it's hottt
and talking about hot; I feel like they like it rough and intense
like hair pulling, body bruising, wet kind of sex
Astarion often prefers to ride Halsin, enjoying the control and Halsin doesn't mind; if something he thinks Astarion looks breathtaking above him, his milky skin glistening with sweat
his big hands guiding his hips and caressing his body
Halsin want to look into Astarion eyes a lot "let me see those eyes"
and when he comes inside him, he grunts and his hands squeeze Astarion tender flesh, his hips almost quiver
when Astarion is close to climax, he guides Halsin’s big, rough (but skilled!) hand to his own member, whimpering deliciously when he comes
after sex however it's all soft and cozy, Halsin treats Astarion with utmost care and love, cleaning him up and showering him with affectionate words
he kisses Astarion all over his beautiful body, making him feel cherished (as he should!)
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
and here it is, my favourite ship from the game (apart delulu me x halsin of course) ˙ᵕ˙
you can find more of my works about bg3 (especially halsin) ♡here♡
#baldurs gate 3#halsin x astarion#bg3 headcanons#bg3#bg3 romance#bg3 imagine#bg3 astarion#bg3 halsin#baldur's gate halsin#halsin silverbough#astarion ancunin#astarion headcanons#halsin headcanons#astarion x halsin#bg3 smut#bg3 fluff#bg3 shipping#halstarion#bloodhoney
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