#tav x spawn astarion

[heylittleriotact]

Open Invitation - Twenty-Three (Nothing Bad Happens)

Content warning: This chapter contains explicit descriptions of violence/blood/gore/character death.

In which:

Nobody feels good about the previous night’s events

The gang meets a goddess

Nothing bad happens at all definitely don’t bring tissues

Excerpt:

“Just a moment,” Astarion said, getting up from the rock he’d been sitting on. “Our dream visitor is living inside the artefact? In here?”

Echo looked up at him. Her contained rage didn’t lessen the dullness of her eyes, and he was forced to avert his gaze - looking at her meant confronting the reality of how exhausted she was and feeling like he was responsible for it, and he stubbornly refused to accept that responsibility.

“Oh, our dream visitor not only lives in it, she claims she stole it from Vlaakith, and that she can completely destroy her legacy with what she knows about her. So apparently I have competition now in the business of destroying legacies, and she continues to dance around the truth of who she is with infuriating grace. So d’you want to know what really pisses me off?” She didn’t wait for an answer to the clearly rhetorical question before turning back to Lae’zel. “We’re going to pop back out of the godsforsaken prism and right into the créche, where the Inquisitor and all of his chums are waiting for us - and then they’re going to fucking bump us off under the justification of some absurd reasoning of how we’ve spurned ‘Vlaakith’s sacred bidding’ and I will have stabbed that annoying bitch for nothing!”

Pairing: Tav (High Elf Feylock) x Astarion

Rating: Explicit

Themes: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Cycle Breaking, Happy Ending (but not without a lot of pain first), very involved archfey patron.

Disclaimer: Complex trauma delving with direct and implied reference to various forms of abuse, including rape/sexual assault, as well as implied self-harm, including suicidal thoughts/behaviour. Explicit violence. Smuuut.

[beesneedswords]

Is This Goodbye or Hello Again

Spawn Astarion ending 🪷

Gn reader, but name given Gidja (God of the Moon/ Aboriginal Origin).

Masterlist

Astarion sits on a small patch of dirt, a small stone in front of him reading Gidja Farore 1334-1787. He places a bundle of autumncrocus atop the stone. He presses his lips to the cold rock before getting up. As he steps away his eyes never leave the grey boulder in front of him. It had been months, almost a year, since their passing and he still feels angry. They could've lived together, forever, but they had to stop him from completing the ritual. Tears threaten to leave his eyes and he finally decides to turn away.

The two of them were able to build a sort of community for the other spawn with the help of the macynoid colony. Astarion and Gidja lived in the arcane tower, while others lived around them. They started a small potion business to make money for them all to survive, mostly so Gidja could eat.

"How could I become so reliant on someone after two hundred years?!" He screams, "I told myself never to get too close!" Astarion turns back to the stone, eyes filled with fury, "How did you sneak into my heart and make me love you?"

Astarion crumples to the ground in sobs. Hot tears run down his perfectly pale face. He buries his face in his hands, trying to control the mess he's become. His body shakes with the sorrows flowing through him. Astarion sits for minutes, maybe hours, trying to control his grief.

When he finally runs out of tears he stands and stuffs his hands in his pockets. Every day he visits them, more anger and despair enters his body. He wanted them to be buried next to his headstone in Baldur's Gate, but no one was able to help him. He also thinks that is a good thing, he is still able to visit them. The funeral was beautiful, just what they would've wanted. Any friends and family they had left. Halsin, really being the only one still alive, and just barely. Halsin attempted to help Astarion cope, but he couldn't do much.

The other spawn have taken notice of Astarion's unstable state, taking note of his mentions of going into the sun to join his love.

“I'll join you soon.” He whispers to the dormit stone.

He stumbles back and goes back to the arcane tower. He's finally finished his preparations to leave. Astarion told Petras about his plans, and his brother agreed to take care of all the others. He grabs the backpack from the stiff mattress he hasn't laid on in months and stuffs it full of blood jars and clothes. He pulls on his armor in case of trouble and grabs the swords he'd been holding onto for almost three hundred years.

Astarion leaves the tower and makes his way up through the Underdark. Saying his goodbyes to the macynoid. Once he reaches the end of their colony he sees Petras and Daylria. They both give him a sad smile, knowing his end goal.

“We brought this for you.” Daylria says holding out a ring. The ring was nothing special, a gold band and gem, but Astarion recognized it. They'd found a skeleton couple laying in bed together with two rings. One was buried with Gidja. Petras and Daylria had scratched a new date for him, only the year, but the year Gidja and Astarion met.

Petra closes his hand around Astarion's, around the ring, “We'd done the same to theirs. We've arranged for a Gurr to bury you when… you've passed.”

“No,” Astarion says angrily, ripping his hand away from his brother, “I want to be buried here with them.”

“Alright, alright.” Petras says, “We can arrange it.”

Astarion nods, his posture rigid. He makes his way back up and through the old Selune temple. Even after all this time it has still remained empty. When he finally emerges into the temple he relives the battles with the Absolute cultists. He sees all the goblin skeletons, garments now torn and weathered, and the weapons rusted and disintegrating. The massive statues have been chipped and rounded from the falling ceiling allowing rain in. Astarion weaves in and out of the unrecognizable rubble.

The moonlight flows through the holes in the roof. Astarion stops under one, basking in the only sunlight he can live in. He reaches the ruined doors and attempts to push them open, but the hinges are rusted shut. He tries for hours to open them, but he never does. He screams, the grief and anger finally overwhelming his body. He throws a sword across the small room.

Astarion turns to the room where they killed Gut, he sees the once white moonlight becoming a soft yellow. This is his chance. He runs to one of the spots, standing just outside it. He watches the sun rise through the rubble, waiting for the sun to be up high enough. He doesn't want to suffer anymore, he wants something quick.

Once the sun has finally reached it's peak above the temple, Astarion steps into the light. He thinks of the many years he had with Gidja. Their face, the way their skin felt, how they always made him smile. The sun burns and blisters his skin, but he can't feel the pain anymore. He throws his arms out to his sides. Astarion smiles, feeling his fingers begin to crust and fall apart. He closes his eyes ignoring the sensation on his body turning to dust.

“I will be with you now, my love.” He says just before his body crumples. Some of the ashes blow away in the wind, but his heart remains. Petras and Daylria take him, that night, back to their settlement. They hold a small funeral and bury him with Gidja, their hearts together for the rest of time.

[iicaru2]

astarion’s character development is incredible to me because of the sheer amount of detail and accuracy. he doesn’t change entirely as a person after he kills cazador— he mentions himself that he keeps thinking about it, even though it’s all over. which makes sense, since 200+ years of trauma isn’t going to go away after a night.

but after killing cazador, and giving up ascension, he’s so much lighter. the usual harshness he has in his tone of voice is dulled, if not entirely absent in certain dialogues. he still has a long way to go in terms of healing, but he’s finally secure enough to start that process. he’s still him, but a weight has been taken off his shoulders, so he’s finally able to live without constant hyper-vigilance, looking over his shoulder for danger.

even the way that he refers to cazador changes: in almost every instance prior to completing his personal quest, he speaks cazador’s name with hatred. viciously. afterwards, he says his name like it’s just that. a name. someone that’s gone, and inconsequential, who can’t hurt him anymore.

i think my favorite callback is that, in the conversation you have with him after long resting, whether you romanced him or not, he thanks you for talking him out of it. now that he’s out of that hell, he’s able to see just how much continuing down that pattern of abuse would have changed and ruined him. specifically, the last line he says is “this is a gift, you know. thank you - i won’t forget it.” which is the exact same line he says after you allow him to drink your blood way back in act one.

as someone with ptsd and some pretty specific trauma, astarion means quite a lot to me as a character, so i’ll always admire just how much love was put into the way he grows over the course of the game. and, of course, this is a huge reason i can never bring myself to ascend him. he’s easily earned a spot amongst my favorite fictional characters ever and i cannot stress enough how glad i am that a story like his exists.

[ancunincurator]

There's just something about how Astarion goes from thinking of himself as someone with only one talent, that he has nothing else to offer you and, inevitably, you'll find someone better and leave.

To someone who with his whole chest, heart and soul declares out loud without any hint of doubt that of course you like him simply for who he is, why is that so hard to believe?

There's just something about Astarion's personal quest having nothing to do with the main story line. How willingly walking into a vampire den to free him takes precious time away from what you actually came to the city to do. But you care enough to do it anyway.

And then he holds the power of 7000 souls in his hands, a power he's said he will share with you, something else he finally has to offer and would be proud to give you. But instead you remind him again he has plenty to offer without it, and in that moment he knows you truly didn't bring him here out of desire for his power but for his freedom. And maybe that's the last piece that falls into place which finally makes him believe you when you say he is enough.

But I dunno.

[libbybee]

THE BENEFITS OF CARING — SA

◜pairing: astarion ⨯ fem!healer!reader ◜rating: MDNI 18+ ┊ wc: 13K ◜cw: fluff, sweet-dirty talk, wounds caring, previous sexual tension, feelings, rain, porn with some plot, first time sex, body worship, bodily fluids, piv, masturbation [F, M], blowjob, cock warming-riding, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare, morning talk.

▹ summary. one brow arched. “oh, really?” he asked sarcastically. “then perhaps you can explain why you’re straddling me like you are, love.”

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

AO3 ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ PLAYLIST ┊ IMG

‎

‘He was foolish. Reckless. Utterly stupid.’

Those words spun like a storm in your mind as you watched Astarion dash into danger. All because Gale, with one of his grandiose schemes, asked him to be a distraction—a distraction, of all things. The sheer absurdity grated on you, especially after that cocky, charming smile Astarion showed.

For all his talk of survival and his centuries-old staying alive, he seemed oblivious to the risks he took, as if he actually believed he was invincible. That careless swagger, that excitement in his eyes—it frustrated you to no end. Why does he have to be like this?

You were the only one in the camp capable of tending to wounds after Shadowheart decided to go off on her own because of a disagreement. And he knew it all too well.

He’d charged straight ahead of a group of Flaming Fists, who’d been hell-bent on killing you all after a disastrous misunderstanding. How you’d managed to escape with just minor injuries was still beyond your reach, but one thing was clear: if his recklessness didn’t kill him, you might do it yourself.

When he came to you later, sheepishly asking for a hand with his wounds, you were ready to refuse—but then he looked at you, with that pleading puppy look in his eyes that seemed to make all your frustration melt in an instant… and you just gave in.

You stepped out of your tent, dressed in your camp clothes and carrying a small bag with bandages and supplies. The moment the cold night breeze swept over your face and bare arms, you regretted your clothing.

But you headed towards Astarion’s tent. And as you crossed the camp, the faint patter of raindrops began to break the silence, with cool droplets striking the ground. You quickened your pace; the last thing you needed right now was to catch a cold.

The flap of the tent swayed gently in the breeze as you lifted your hand to brush the canvas aside and stepped in.

Inside, there was a warm setting given by some candles, and the rich scent of Astarion quickly enveloped you—hints of brandy and rosemary. And there he lay, reclining on his bedroll against some plushy pillows, with an opened book resting idly in his hands, though he wasn’t reading. His crimson eyes lifted rapidly to meet yours by the moment you entered, his brow raising slightly in surprise before a smile spread on his lips.

Astarion set his book aside with an elegant flourish, sitting a bit as his hand reached to help you enter in. “Ah, my darling... at last. I was beginning to think you’d leave me alone all nigh—” His words cut off abruptly as your palm connected sharply with his cheek.

“That’s for risking your life like a fool.” You snapped as you sat beside him on his bedroll.

He lifted a hand to his cheek and soothed the stinging sensation, shocked but faintly amused by your unexpected reaction. Before he could even part his lips to say something, you raised a finger to cut him off while dropping your bag on the bedroll with a firm thud.

“Honestly, Astarion, what in the hells were you thinking?” You demanded, already taking a cloth from your bag. You didn't even wait for him to reply and just reached for his arm, where a nasty wound marred his porcelain skin. “Running in like that without a second thought...” You murmured to yourself, furrowing your brows in worry.

Letting out a sigh, you carefully wiped the wound. “What if I hadn’t been there? Or if you’d got ki—” You shut yourself, swallowing down the knot of anxiety that had lodged in your throat since the fight ended. Memories of that night at the Tiefling’s party appeared in your mind—when, just for a moment, he’d looked at you beyond his enchanting demeanour. And how that left you feeling fragile in a way you weren’t ready to confront.

After a moment, you spoke more calmly, “You can’t keep doing this, Astarion. You can’t keep risking yourself as if you don’t matter.”

As you dabbed carefully at another cut, his face tensed in a grimace, and you couldn't hold back any longer. “I don’t care how bold you think you are, Astarion—there’s no excuse for being so imprudent. You’re not some disposable distraction, no matter what Gale or anyone else thinks.” You noticed how one of his eyebrows raised with that glint in his eyes. “And don’t even think about giving me that look.”

For once, he simply fell silent, watching how your hands moved in his arm with the cool cloth with... perhaps an affectionate expression. Then his voice dropped, gentler than you'd ever heard it. “I didn't realise you cared about me... quite this much.”

Your hands froze briefly, feeling a heat rising to your cheeks. You controlled your feelings. “Well, someone has to keep you in line, and I’m fairly certain neither of our lovely friends would be up to the task.” You clarified, somewhat exasperated, but with some gentility in your tone.

You heard a soft chuckling from him, as he was aware of the truth in your words. Gently, his hand reached out to caress yours. “It means... more than you think. To have someone caring.” As your eyes dropped to his hand and then his face, you saw past his charm for a fleeting moment, past his sly smile to the man who hadn't known kindness in far too long. “Thank you.”

Your eyes widened while your cheeks rose even more, quickly looking again to his arm as you wiped another open wound. You cleared your throat. “Just... try not to make me need to patch you up every time we get into trouble, alright? For my sanity, if nothing else.”

He gently caressed the back of your hand one last time before letting his hand fall to his lap. “Oh, and miss all the attention you give me?” He looked into your eyes, pouting a little but taking in the seriousness in your face. “Fine. I’ll be more careful, love.” His voice was laced with a teasing warmth, easing the sting of worry in your chest, making it almost worth it.

The rain began to fall harder, the deafening through of it slapping against the canvas. When you looked at his shirt, there was something about how it had dark patches of blood through that caught your attention. You could almost see the bruises starting to form and the scratches beneath the fabric.

You glanced up at him again. “Astarion, take that shirt off; I need to see what’s under it.”

He raised one of his eyebrows. “Eager, aren't we?” He smirked. “I suppose I can indulge you, darling...”

You gave him a soft smile for his tease, speaking exasperated but amused. “I’m sure you’ve got wounds under there, Astarion. Just take it off.”

His smirk widened, clearly enjoying. “Such impatience... Very well, love. You’ve earned the right to see what lies beneath.” Then he reached for the hem of his classic white shirt, the delicate fabric gathering in his hands before he tugged it over his head in one fluid move, slightly disheveling his curls.

The shirt slipped away, revealing his chest and the sharp definition of his collarbones. The flickering candlelight danced across his skin, casting shadows over the subtle contours of his physique. His movements were unhurried as he was offering you a glimpse.

As he tossed the garment aside carelessly, it landed in a heap near the edge of the bedroll. The air between you seemed to shift. His crimson eyes showed a slight hint of vulnerability that he quickly masked with a smirk.

“Better?” He drawled, his usual charm creeping back. “Is the view satisfactory, or are you planning to strip me further?”

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth blooming in your cheeks betrayed your mock tiresomeness. “Oh, stop. I’m only trying to see how severe the damage is. Not everything has to be an invitation for your theatrics.” With the cloth in hand, you pressed it gently to a scrape on his shoulder.

Trying to focus solely on the task at hand, you tried not to stare too long at the sight before you, but the way you moved closer left a sense of intimacy that you couldn't quite ignore. The quiet hum of your fingers tracing his chest and the lines of his abdomen made you feel the way his skin seemed to breathe beneath your fingertips. And you could swear that you heard almost inaudible sighs from him when your hands brushed over particularly tender sites.

The storm raged harder, hammering relentlessly against the tent as if the heavens insisted on being heard.

The wounds were worse than you thought—a mixture of gashes and dark bruises, a few of them with a touch of infection already setting in. Your eyes faltered briefly when your heart tightened at this sight as you moved from one injury to the next, cleaning them.

Astarion's gaze remained fixed on you, changing between your hands and your preoccupied expression. For once, the usual, confident, and charismatic vampire who normally danced with danger and seductiveness had taken his mask off. Showing the face of someone who, for once, truly trusted in someone else and allowed you to take care of him.

His breath caught when you reached a particularly deep gash along his abdomen, and you had to steady yourself to not flinch with him. The sound of his discomfort sent a tremor through your hands. Still, he kept his endurance and didn't flinch away from you; this only made your chest ache more.

He broke the silence with a low mutter with an odd weariness. “You should stop doing that.”

Your fingers froze, halting mid-motion. “Stop what?” You asked, but not looking up, trying to maintain your focus.

“Caring so much,” he replied quietly. “It doesn’t suit you.”

You stilled, taken aback by his words, before you finally looked up to meet his gaze. “You’re a fool.” You shot back.

He let out a soft laugh, but it wasn’t the usual mocking sound; no, it sounded with a subtle trace of gratitude, or perhaps something far more complicated for him.

“You know,” he added after a long moment, his voice lower now, “I’m not used to this. To someone looking after me.”

You let your hands rest on his waist, looking up once more. “I’m not doing this because you’re special,” you replied with a snark tone. “I’m doing it because you’re an idiot, Astarion. And if you keep getting yourself hurt like this, I might just tie you up next time to keep you out of trouble.”

His lips showed that smile of his again, though more tenderly. “Ah, my very own personal keeper. What would I do without you, darling?”

After you grabbed and secured a bandage around his waist for his deep wound, you allowed your hands to stay on his body moments longer than necessary. You could feel the enveloping air between you; the silence was tense, though neither of you moved or said anything. Astarion's pupils were dilated looking at you, and they held a certain depth that seemed to pull at you.

Your mind was still so wrapped up in the care you'd given him that you barely noticed the shift in your own position until you relaxed to adjust the posture of your body. That's when the realisation hit you like a punch to the gut—you were straddling him.

Your knees rested on either side of his hips, and you could feel the constant pressure of his pelvis against yours in a way that felt far too out of place.

A sharp breath caught in your throat, and you instinctively stiffened while a rush of hotness flooded your chest. Your mind started to race: ‘How long have we been like this? How had I not noticed this before?’ The tightness of your hips against his, the way your bodies seemed to fit together so... naturally—it was impossible to ignore.

But Astarion? He didn’t falter even for a second. His body remained relaxed beneath yours, with some sort of steady confidence, like he had no intention of acknowledging the shift in the dynamic. There was the faintest shift in his posture, a barely perceptible tightening of his grip on your thigh, but it went away in an instant.

“Getting comfortable, darling?” He spoke smoothly, with a dangerous and devilishly enticing tone. His lips curled into that signature grin of his, but this time it was different; there was no teasing edge, no light-hearted mockery. Instead, there was a subtle weight to it, as it appeared to hold more meaning than it usually did.

“I must admit, I didn’t think you’d be so forward, love.” He purred. There was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice, the quiet thrill touring his body of the intimacy at that moment.

The hand on your thigh slowly slid to your hip, allowing his fingers to linger there briefly before trailing up to your waist. You straightened up immediately, your face flushing while your pulse hammered in your chest because you had never been this close to him before—really close. Too close.

“I wasn't... trying to be forward...” Your voice tumbled, feeling a nervous tension twisting in your gut. Your words stumbled over each other, sharper than you meant them to be. “I was just trying to—”

“Trying to cure me, I know,” he interrupted, his soft chuckle rolling over you like a sensual caress. “Though, love, such a delicate position for a healer. Wouldn’t you agree?” His voice dipped, low and molten, sharpening his smile into something far more dangerous. His eyes were locked on yours, unfaltering, almost daring you to react.

Everything else blurred into insignificance. All you could hear was the erratic pounding of your own heartbeat and his breathing, far too steady for the situation.

“I...” you started, but the tightness in your throat made it difficult to say a word. You didn’t know what to say; you didn’t even know if you wanted to break the silence hanging between you. “We should probably...” The sentence fizzled out, as useless as your resolve to push away the growing tension.

Before you could even think of anything else, the heat of his touch burnt through the fabric of your pyjamas, making your skin tingle in its wake. His hand slid up your side, grazing your ribs and the curvature of your breast with his thumb before setting at your waist to grip it firmly. The way his thumb slowly began to stroke the curve of your waist only made your nervousness get worse. His touching wasn't just casual—it was as if he wanted to test your reaction.

A rush of sensations made it impossible to think clearly, your body betraying you. His posture—his other elbow propped for support—the constant pressing of his crotch against yours, his hand on your waist—it all pulled you into a current you weren’t sure you could fight.

“Go on,” he purred with the faintest hint of mockery. His gaze moved to your lips, as though he could draw out the answer with nothing but his stare. His fingers flexed slightly against your waist, the pressure sending a ripple of heat skittering through you. “What was it you were saying? Something about what we should do?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on your hands as they rested awkwardly near his chest, fingers twitching. The heat building between your thighs crept upward, spreading through your belly like a forest fire. You felt flushed and shivering, not just from the closeness but from the way he was glancing at you—like you were the only thing in the world worth his attention.

You weren't prepared for this; you hadn't anticipated that the barriers you thought were between you would collapse into nothing so abruptly.

Astarion’s voice cut through your thoughts like a blade. “Are you going to keep me here all night, love?” His tone kept low, almost a growl.

You struggled to string together coherent thoughts before saying something. “I didn't know you wanted... I didn't think...” The words stumbled out again, barely audible as your voice betrayed you.

His smirk deepened, and his crimson eyes held a predatory gleam that made your stomach twist and flutter all at once. “Don’t play coy with me, darling.” His voice was velvety enough to bury each word into your ears. “I know you’ve thought about this—about me. I can see it, feel it. You want this as much as I do.” You tried to look away to escape his gaze, but it was impossible. His eyes held you captive, burning with something raw and unapologetically ravenous.

Your eyes widened as he tugged you closer with a calculated ease that made you perfectly aligned with him—causing your pussy to rub directly on his cock. The feeling made every inch of you stand on edge, your body betraying you with a tremor you couldn’t suppress. Then he reclined back against his pillows more comfortably before his other hand glided up your thigh. “Relax, darling...” He purred lowly, his tone a sensuous command that curled around you like smoke.

You became instantly conscious of the burning sensation beneath you—the growing hardness pressing insistently against your cunt. Your thoughts whirled, panic and desire colliding in a tumult. ‘How did I end up like this?’ But the answer was painfully clear—he had led you, and you’d followed without resistance for being distracted caring for him.

“I... I wasn't planning... this.” You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but his eyes—bold and piercing—made it impossible to hold.

One brow arched. “Oh, really?” He asked sarcastically. “Then perhaps you can explain why you’re straddling me like you are, love.”

His hardening length was impossible to ignore, even through the barrier of clothes, the sensation making heat surge through you in torrents. You swallowed hard. “I… It’s only because you moved me—” You tried to protest, but Astarion pressed a finger to your lips to silence you before leaning in to kiss your neck. “Moved you, did I?” He teasingly whispered against your skin. “Then don’t even think of moving, love... you're not going anywhere.”

Those words echoed in your ears. You knew you’d been fighting with your feelings since that night with the tieflings—when you’d seen him in his tent with his wine focused entirely on you, ignoring everyone else. You’d told yourself it was just the wine, the moment, but now you could hardly keep up the pretence.

For a hesitant moment, you thought about pulling away—but then his expression softened, almost looking if his black pupils were begging for you to stay with him, to kiss him when he noticed your intentions as you stared at his lips and slowly you hovered them with yours; the distance seemed endless.

With a small effort, you leaned in and kissed his lips, and you could feel how he smiled, clearly delighted by your boldness and the way your hand curled at his nape to draw him to you. The motions of your lips were slow, unsure. But as soon as you felt his opening slightly against yours, the shyness began to fade.

His hands clamped on your hips to pull you closer until there wasn't any space for doubt or even space untouched between you, and you could feel him—all of him. The pressure of his cock perfectly aligned with your entrance provoked you to gasp against his mouth; even in the hesitation, he gave you no choice but to lean into him, to crave more and push past the uncertainty that had held you back.

He just seemed to want more, that he couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth felt as if it were burning yours. The kiss started slow and tentative, but that didn't last. His lips grew more insistent as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head and parting yours with ease to slip his tongue between your lips in a hurry. This made you pant by the initial shock of it, racing your heart. Your thoughts began to dissolve, leaving only the moment, and you simply surrendered to the sensation.

The swipes of his tongue weren’t gentle at all. He was implacable, exploring your mouth, moving deeper. His kiss wasn’t just a kiss—it was an invitation, a way to encourage you. And as you accepted, you met his tongue with your own, unconfident at first, but he gave you the courage to match his boldness. Astarion groaned softly, a deep sound that reverberated in your lips, sending an intense pulse of arousal to your pussy.

There was no going back now, and you knew it. This was it—the pull to him, the demand of his touch, and now you could feel the indescribable connection that had been building between you from the very first time your eyes had met.

His lips pulled away just enough to speak. “You’re mine tonight.” He groaned roughly as his hands drifted to the sensitive space between your inner thighs, cupping your pussy and slowly kneading it with his fingers. “And when I’m through with you, you won't even remember what it felt like to be without me.”

Your chest tightened as his words hit hard, but you found yourself barely able to even think, unable to do more than just nod as you looked down at him. Your lips parted while you took your breath, while his hand moved with a voracious elegance, dragging his fingertips along the seam where your trousers joined. The air was charged and burning before he did what he did.

With a sharp tug, Astarion tore the fabric between your thighs. The sound was violent as the seams of your trousers gave way under the force of his hands, almost merciless. The rip clearly was strategic—exposing just enough to reveal what was hidden.

But the regret rushed over you the moment the cool night air hit your exposed area. You hadn’t been wearing any panties, and now, with nothing to shield your nakedness, you felt scandalously vulnerable. You cursed yourself for all the nights you decided against wearing anything, thinking no one would notice. Now, the decision turned painfully foolish.

His eyes dropped, and his pupils dilated further at the sight of his no longer hidden treasure, curling his lips with delight. A low laugh escaped his throat. “Well, well,” he purred, distinctly pleased. “It seems you’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you? No panties? How deliciously bold.”

You mentally damned your stupidity, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. The simple choice of not wearing underwear before going to sleep now felt like an invitation, one he seemed all too eager to accept.

The shock of it left you momentarily motionless and without words, feeling the cool air kissing the exposed skin of your thighs and your core. His hand brushed over the tear he had just created, grazing his fingers very close to where your pussy was.

“I can still see that shy little spark in you, even now.” He talked again, locking onto you. The playful smirk on his lips softened as he watched the blush across your cheeks. “It's almost... adorable.”

You tilted your head slightly, trying to escape his penetrating stare, a nervous pout forming on your lower lip as your hands clutched at his shoulders for some sort of stability. But a sudden gasp escaped your lips when his middle and ring fingers slid between your folds with smooth precision, parting them easily. His fingers let your clitoris be positioned right between both; your sensitive bud responded instantly after so many winters without another’s touch, and your grip on his shoulders only grew firmer.

When they finally clamped on either side of your clit, his fingers massaged it with a slow back-and-forth motion, sending an uncontrollable shiver through your nub. Your hips instinctively moved due to his stimulation, causing a soft tremor in your pelvis as the tingling sensation built. The exact pressure he exerted made you melt further, caught in the heat of it and masking your timid instincts.

All swipes of his fingers coaxed your body to react in ways you could barely control. Astarion's smile widened as he enjoyed watching the last traces of your shyness slowly dissolve beneath his touch. Eventually joining his thumb to the dance, finally rubbing directly over the skin covering your bud before pressing down in slow circles that made your thighs tremble against his hips.

“Just like that…” He murmured approvingly. “Feels good, doesn't it?”

His fingers slid forward slightly, pressing his palm against your clit while his middle finger traced the outline of your entrance. The anticipation held you captive, instinctively arching your hips, silently urging him to end the wait. And then, with tantalising slowness, he slid one finger inside you, the feeling both stimulating and exhilarating all at once. The filling was perfect—gradual but firm—and soon, a second finger joined to push in and out without pulling them out entirely.

With each slow thrust of his fingers, his palm rubbed on the skin of your clit, adding a delicious, pleasurable dual stimulation that sent spasms through your pussy, making it impossible to stay still. The strokes were maddeningly controlled, his fingers reaching and curling deeper with every smooth push, as though he knew exactly what you needed and how to give it to you. Astarion’s gaze never left your face, his piercing crimson eyes bright with pleasure, absorbing every sigh and shiver you produced.

“How sensitive, darling...” He breathed softly as he drew closer to meet your lips with his, causing a sweet pulse to your core, intensifying your throbs.

He angled his hand just slightly to reach deeper, and you gripped him tightly. You found yourself helplessly following the increasing tempo he set, encircling his neck with your arms to pull him closer and losing one of your hands in his silky curls.

Astarion's smile turned avaricious against your mouth, sensing your walls vibrate and deliciously clench around him, drenching his hand in just a few minutes. He curled his skilled fingers inside to stimulate a sensitive spot you didn't know was there, just perfectly, his touch implacable against your clit while he fucked your cunt.

Your mouth was being claimed with an eagerness that made your blood boil—he was devouring you in the kiss. His smooth lips moved against yours, insistent and hungry, coaxing you to open for him as he gently bit your lower lip. As you complied, his tongue rapidly swept in, tasting your saliva mingling with his. It was dizzying; your senses flooded with the taste of him and the coolness of his pale skin, creating a high contrast against your hot, wetting pussy and just adding to the sensations.

A low groan gurgled in his chest as his lips pressed harder, the tips of his fangs grazing your bottom lip before pulling back slightly. Just to slam his mouth to yours again with even more fierceness after taking his breath. His fingers curled more rapidly against that delicate spot within you, utterly submerging you in the magnetic pull of his caresses and the incredible hunger in his kiss.

He pulled away, his lips brushing against yours as he did, a soft, breathless hum escaping him. “I wonder,” he began, “how long it will take for you to break, darling.” His eyes glinted as he continued. “But I’m in no rush. We’ll savour this. I will…”

Your grip on him tightened, slightly pulling his hair as your hips rocked back and forth with the pace he set, lost to the growing pleasure he built for you. His touch was relentless, almost coaxing you to the brink, but every stroke was carefully calculated, carefully slow to keep you teetering, hovering in a blissful tension that left you frustrated.

Astarion watched you with predatory attention, centred on the slightest whimper that escaped your lips, as well as that exquisite pussy between your thighs. The very sight of you brought him as much pleasure as his hand brought to you.

Your breathing grew ragged as your body instinctively sought more of the pleasure he promised. The fullness of his fingers, though they were quite close to what you needed, only left you aching for more. You could feel your desire intensifying with every subtle movement, letting your hands drift lower in his chest with the need to touch, to claim him as yours. ‘At least for tonight’.

“Astarion... more, please... I want your cock inside me.” You pleaded, looking into his eyes with desperate want. “Take off these trousers...” You added, letting your fingers trail down his abdomen to where his waistband circled just below his waist, urging him to remove the last barrier between you.

He held your gaze, his eyes smouldering as a slow, indulgent smile appeared on his face. “Oh, you’re even more delicious when you beg...” He honeyed with approval, pulling his fingers out of your pussy and watching with keen interest as you trembled at the loss, the delicate quiver of your hips only adding to the pleasure he found in your vulnerability.

Before doing so, he slowly brought his dripping fingers from your cunt to his mouth, taking great pleasure in licking them clean and savouring the sweet, intoxicating juices made by your body. A soft, pleased hum escaped him as his eyes gleamed with wicked glee as he drank in the sight of your flushed face.

Only then did his hands drop to the waistband of his trousers. He didn’t rush, of course; instead, his movements were maddeningly slow as he began to slide the fabric down. The gleam in his eyes told you everything—he was savouring every second, drawing out the moment just to test your patience, fully aware of how much it would irritate you.

But just before sliding them for once and for all down, he stopped within a second. His eyes trailed their way down to your breasts, marked against the cloth, still covered while his torso was bare since you made him take off his shirt; the contrast stirred something within him. His fingers gently trailed along the fabric of your shirt, brushing down and against the edge, before his hand slid inside to grip your waist.

He looked back up, meeting your gaze with desire and playful intent. “Darling,” he purred, “don’t you think it’s only fair that you join me in shedding the rest of my clothing?” His eyes gleamed as he showed his damned puppy-like eyes for the second time that day. “I want to feel all of you against me,” he added, his tone rich with faked sorrow as his lower lip made a soft pout. “Take it off, my love...”

Oh, this definitely made you smile, feeling a spark of mischief as you looked down at him. You could tell he hadn’t quite anticipated the thought that crossed your mind.

You let your fingers drift along his bare chest again, savouring the coolness and smoothness of his porcelain skin before cradling his cheek, taking in every detail of his expectant look.

“Well,” you leaned close, letting your lips just a few inches away from his. “After tearing my favourite trousers,” you whispered, trailing your thumb teasingly across his lower lip, “don’t you think it’s only fair that you ask me—politely—to take the shirt off?”

Astarion raised one of his brows; his smile wavered for only a moment as he considered your request. Then, his expression softened, his smirk playing again on his lips as his hands slid up your sides under your shirt. “Oh, I see,” he replied smoothly, “you want me to beg, do you?”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Yes.” You savoured every single letter that slipped from your lips. “I am dying to hear you beg, Astarion.”

A moment passed before he gave a soft chuckle, and his gaze, brimming with delight and want, locked with yours. “Please, my love.” He said lowly, needy. “Let me see those surely precious breasts you must have. I’ll be good, I promise.” He pleaded sweetly. “Take it off... just for me...”

His words only made you want to tease him more.

The diabolical glow in your eyes grew as you leaned forward, letting your thumb trace the line of his chin. You could feel the light tension in his posture, the way the red in his eyes darkened, his lips parting just a bit as he waited for... maybe a kiss? He wasn't quite sure with you. His hands on your waist tightened to pull you a bit closer, but you resisted, holding him at bay.

“Good, you say? I’d like to see that.” You tilted your head as if considering his plea. “Are you sure you’re capable of it?” Your fingers slid down his chest again, skimming over his nipples with your fingers just enough to provoke him a small shiver.

“More than capable.” He replied roughly for the restraint you demanded of him, but not being entirely sincere.

You breathed slowly as you caught his lie, but somehow, your desire for him only grew, knowing he didn’t intend to ‘be good’ with you at all.

Your hands went down to lift the hem of your shirt, but you didn’t pull it up yet. Instead, you let your fingers there. “If you want it so badly, Astarion,” you said softly, “you’ll have to ask again. Nicely.”

His expression shifted to one of purely wanting as he tightened his hands on you. “Please, my love,” he replied in a low tone. “Take it off.”

Finally, you slowly lifted your shirt to reveal your torso and the defined curves of your breasts, drawing the fabric over your head to set it aside on his bedroll and finally being completely naked to his eager stare. Astarion’s eyes glistened with a glow that spoke volumes as he devoured every detail of your flushed skin like a long-awaited treat. You couldn’t help but arrange your hair and adjust your bracelets; you felt a mix of nerves and exhilaration at his intense attention.

Astarion’s hands reached for your breasts with a speed that almost startled you, sinking his fingers into your supple flesh as he kneaded it and leaned forward. His lips found one of your nipples, capturing it along with a portion of your breast, sucking passionately before planting a warm kiss above your nipple. He repeated on its twin, savouring your body before finally looking up; the surprise etched on your face, the blush on your cheeks, and the widening of your eyes seemed to light pride in his gaze.

Astarion revelled in the comfy warmth of your flesh under his cool hands as he continued to knead and massage your breasts as thoroughly as it was slow. Trailing his lips down to run messy kisses along your sternum before returning to one of your breasts once more. He opened his mouth, homely, to get your flushed breast inside, sucking it and swirling his tongue around it, rumbling an eager hum. His hands went to your waist and your other breast to take care of it too, holding you as you leaned against him with a soft moan escaping your lips. He seemed almost like a starved child desperately seeking milk from his mother's breast.

After a long, leisurely moment, he pulled away with a final and slow brush of his tongue over your nipple; his lips glistened with saliva from his attention. A desire that seemed to consume him was burning in his eyes, and when they met yours, a slow smile spread across his face. “You know,” he murmured, “I could lose myself in you like this, so easily.” His fingers slowly contoured your waist. “But I’ll need more than just this beautiful view.” He leaned in to graze his lips on your ear and whispered, “Imagine, darling, how it’ll feel when I’m deep inside you—how I’ll make you forget everything else, until all you can think of... is me.”

Your body received a delicious tremble, an almost inaudible moan escaping your lips because of the intensity of his voice saying those words to you. Your fingers tangled in his hair to pull him closer, feeling yourself getting wetter. The simple thought of him inside you, fucking you until your legs couldn't respond any more, grew your pulse faster.

As his hands wandered lower, the ache between your thighs grew unbearable—the need to have his cock growling in your throat; you could barely stand it. Impatiently, you moved to straddle his thighs, finding with your hands his waistband.

“I need you, Astarion.” Your plea spilt out unprocessed, begging for him to end the teasing and give you what you craved. “Please take them off. I can’t wait any longer. Finish what you started.” The final word fell from your lips almost like a cry, leaving no doubt that you were beyond ready, beyond wanting. You needed him—now.

Astarion chuckled as he looked at your hands, tracing his abdomen. He laid back slightly against his soft pillows, clearly enjoying how you were so eager for him, but he didn’t move anyway. Instead, his eyes flickered to your fingers as they were about to start tugging his waistband, and his lips curled up.

“Please, Astarion.” You pleaded again. “I can't take it any more. Stop teasing me. Take them off. Please.”

He hummed, amused, with a wicked glint in his crimson eyes. “Ah, so desperate, are we?” His eyes slid downward, pausing to take in the way your pussy soaked through his fabric, already dripping as you set yourself on his thighs. “Look at that sweet little cunt of yours, dripping for me already.” As soon as he finished speaking, he let out a soft chuckle. “Can’t wait to feel me inside, I see.”

You furrowed your brows in some annoyance at his incessant chatter that only made your patience thinner. But then, his demeanour shifted nonchalantly, capturing your attention when he propped his hands up on the bedroll and lifted his pelvis fluidly, giving you room to slide his trousers out of his legs.

“Help yourself, darling.” He purred softly with that grin on his lips.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing down, captivated by his posture. When your eyes fell to his crotch, where your hands had settled either side, you saw the clear shape of his rigid cock outlined beneath the fabric, straining against the material and angled a little to one side. The thickness and length were evident, making your entrance painfully clench around nothing and heat your cheeks.

‘How didn't I look at it before?’ Your breath hitched at the graphic, raw sight of it—exquisite and so irresistibly tempting. The aching sensation in your pussy grew, not just from the visual but from the rush of desire that quickly followed. Despite yourself, your eyes went back to his face, finding that same teasing, excited expression as though he were daring you to take the next step.

As you began to slide your fingers inside the waistband of his trousers, you brushed lightly his skin, sending a shiver to your fingertips.

And then, pulling his trousers down, you slowly revealed more inches of his pelvis and his white curls, and you could feel his intense gaze smouldering into you. His cock twitched against the fabric, building your excitement until it sprang free, making you inhale sharply at the sight. Your eyes traced his exposed skin as you slid the fabric the rest of the way down his legs. A soft rustle marked their removal from his ankles, and he lay naked before you.

His erect length was blushed and visibly soft, with subtle veins running up from its base, contrasting sharply against his swollen, rosy head. The pale expanse of his skin was almost luminescent; only the tip of his cock seemed all the more vivid. And there was precum already seeping from its slit, a trail that slid down to his sac.

For a brief, delicious moment, you simply stared. The long shape with a slightly tapered head was just stunning, and it made you realise just how perfectly he would enter and fill you. You couldn’t help but let your fingers drift to your clit, stimulating lightly to ease the relentless ache building. The wet heat spread between your thighs, growing stronger as you took in every detail.

A subtle sigh left your lips, caused by the strong beating of your puffy bud against your fingers. You traced the ridges of his hips with the other hand before brushing over from the base to the tip of his cock. It was warm, soft but firm with the ridges of its veins, and the precum that gathered there only added to its silkiness.

Your mind raced with thoughts you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to process—how new this was, how thrilling and unfamiliar it felt yet so drawn by it. Astarion was nothing like the lovers you had before. You didn’t have a long list of conquests, and that made your inexperience clear. But the way he looked at you and how his moves commanded every piece of your attention drew you deeper into something you were both eager and frightened to experience.

Without thinking any longer, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, feeling its thickness as you slowly began to stroke him in sync with your own stimulation, smoothing with your thumb the head with each pass. His lips allowed a low, appreciative sigh to escape him, sending a wave of emotion through you and racing your pulse. And with one final glance up at his face, you slowly positioned yourself between his thighs to lay down and let your stomach rest on his bedroll.

As you let your lips hover near the tip of his cock, you could feel the heat radiating from him and smell the intoxicating scent of his arousal as he smelt yours. You could almost drool at the sight before you—how you see the shift in his expression—from humour to impatience. The anticipation was exhausting for both of you, but you didn’t rush. Instead, you kissed the tip tenderly, feeling the weight of him against your lips before letting your tongue slip out where his glans started to the high point. Tasting the warmth and saltiness of his cock because of his precum.

You felt the coolness of the storm kissing you and of the bedroll beneath your stomach, grounding you as your hands remained on him, steady and assured. Astarion’s thighs tensed under your touch, caught between the impulse to take control and the pleasure of simply letting you explore at your own pace.

Each time your thumb swept over his tip, his cock twitched, responding to the rhythm of your touch and your lips. You swirled your tongue around his head, licking clean the precum that had gathered there and along his length. The taste was different than you expected—rich and heady, like a Vermentino wine, lingering on your tongue in a way that was deeply intriguing.

The low sounds slipping from his lips spurred you on as you pressed messy kisses to his length and tip, tracing with your tongue the subtle lines and ridges of his shaft. His sharp intake of breath told you just how deeply he felt every small touch, and the sheer pleasure in that knowledge emboldened you further.

“Mm, look at you,” he purred, honestly surprised and pleased. “Not so shy now, are we, darling?” His words were meant to tease as always, but the note of admiration was unmistakable, making clear just how captivated he truly was.

Your eyes met his quietly before slowly lowering your mouth to take him inch by inch. The stretch of him filled your cavity as you went deeper, feeling his rigidity slide against your tongue. You let inside more of him until you felt his tip reach the back of your throat and the hair on his pelvis brushing your nose. His reaction, the involuntary twitch, and the low hum from him sent a thrill through you as you adjusted him inside your mouth, savouring the moment.

As you set a slow up-down with your head, Astarion’s lips started to make soft, broken sounds that were like a lyrical to your ears, urging you to continue. His hand reached out to rest on the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as he let out a silent growl. The anxiety in his grip was obvious, yet he kept his touch gentle, guiding without forcing and letting you take the lead, trembling under your care.

You slid your hands down his thighs, feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingers and feeling how his body responded to you. Each time you drew him deeply, your tongue caressed his lower vein, lavishing attention on every inch of him that his cock met with an appreciative palpitation.

Astarion moaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “Slow down, my love... Let me enjoy this.” He breathed as he allowed you to fully take him, his hips flexing slightly. His fingers tightened slowly in your hair, a silent encouragement for you to continue as he gave himself completely over to you.

With one hand still supported on his thigh, you drifted the other to his sac to massage it gently inside your palm. The action caused a louder moan from him, his hips jiggling involuntarily as you kept your mouth moving steady and more slowly, never breaking your rhythm. His low groans came quicker and even rougher, sounds of pleasure spilling freely now like an invitation to go on, filling the tent and dispersing the strong rain outside.

He moved his hand from your hair to your cheek and stopped you momentarily, cradling it in a surprisingly tender gesture as he glanced down at you. “Look at me while you do it, my darling...” He sighed, gently caressing you. “Feel how hard you make me...” His head fell back once more, unable to hold back a guttural growl as you continued with an intensified sucking, feeling his cock pulse and grow impossibly hard against your tongue.

With a measured squeeze, you tightened your grip on his sac, rolling it delicately with your fingers while your other hand remained anchored on his thigh. They trembled involuntarily, just like his cock, each movement drawing a delicious reaction until he could no longer keep still, his hips instinctively arching towards your mouth.

His hand returned to the back of your head, gripping tightly as your tongue traced the underside of his cock. All of him seemed to shiver under your touch, and he still allowed you to take control, guiding him into this sweet, little death.

But, after a few moments, you let his cock slip free from your lips with a slow drag, watching it emerge slick in your saliva and instantly cling to his lower belly because of its hardness. The dampness left a glistening trail between your mouth and him, breaking only as you leaned back, lifting a hand to wipe the last of the moisture from your mouth. He let out a disappointed sigh at the loss of you, then looked down to watch how you had left him all reddish-coloured with a sheen because of his precum mixed with your saliva.

Without a word, you rose on your knees and moved to straddle his hips, feeling the firm press of his thighs beneath your ass cheeks as you settled your weight onto him. His hands instinctively moved to your waist, gripping your sides in a way that felt almost impossible to avoid.

You could feel the hardness of his cock pressing between your folds—a solid, delicious presence. Each pulsate of its head against the own palpitations of your puffy bud felt incredible.

Bracing your hands against his chest, you pressed down gently and took a moment to enjoy the feel of him, tracing the lines that defined his chest with your fingers. His eyes were locked on you, watching the way your pussy just wrapped around his cock.

Gradually, you began to move your hips, grinding down your clitoris onto his glans with a slowed tempo that turned faster. The friction was amazing as you brushed against his slick skin, adding a sensuous layer of lubrication as you moved back and forth against his perfectly nestled cock. You could feel yourself drenching him wetter, mixing your juices with the slickness left from your previous oral.

His hungry gaze roamed over your pelvis, tightening his grip on your waist as he let out a rough sigh, savouring the way your pussy slid so enticingly along his shaft until you leaned forward. Repositioning your weight on one hand, you reached down to trace your fingers along his length, wrapping around it to guide it upwards. You pressed the tip on your entrance, dragging it slowly along your slit, feeling it start to pulse against your inner lips. His lower lip formed a slight pout as you continued to tease, drawing the moment out with almost cruel patience.

But with a final pass, you positioned him straight to your entrance, vacillating just on the edge, and looked at his face to watch his reaction—the way his eyes were focused on your pussy, waiting for you to cut the last bit of separation. Then, with a slow downward, you began to sink him inside, feeling the exquisite stretch his tip made as he filled you, inch by inch, making your walls instantly clench around him for the sudden fullness.

He let out a pleased moan, now holding harder your hips as you settled onto him completely, feeling so deep and stretching you deliciously wide after so many years of solitude. The warm pulse of him between your walls, every subtle movement of his length—an insistent throb—made you simply sit there for a moment. Letting yourself adjust to the sensation of him fully within you and the friction of your clit as it rubbed against his silvery pubic hair. He flicked up his eyes to meet yours with an intensity that made his eagerness clear as he waited for you to move.

You gently cupped his face and caressed his pointy ear, the other hand resting over his shoulder. You softly brought his face closer to yours, locking your eyes on his.

“Astarion...” You whispered. “Can you feel it? How incredible this is?” You gave him a dulcet smile before closing the distance, pressing your lips against his as you traced the line of his cheekbone and chest, feeling his pulse beneath your fingers.

Gently, you lifted yourself just slightly to sink back down, the exquisite friction sending a burst of pleasure through both of you. Astarion’s grip on you tensed again, tightening as his hips surged up to meet yours, letting out a low, throaty noise. Your lips remained together, deepening the kiss as your mouths moved in time with your bodies, setting a slow, constant pace where you rose and fell smoothly over him.

The sounds of your bodies intertwined moving together began to fill the surrounding little space—the slapping of skin on skin, the lewd, sensual noises of your pussy swallowing his cock over and over again blending with the muffled moans, and the relentless raindrops against the canvas.

He forcefully gripped your hips to dictate you, abruptly being the one controlling the pace as he broke the kiss to catch his breath. His lips hovered close, both hot exhales mingling as you rested your forehead against his, matching your rhythm. The tantalising climax drew closer and closer with every thrust, making everything else seem distant, the storm outside being insignificant compared to the tempest building between you.

His hands roamed over your body, tracing your spine before one circled your waist and the other gripped the back of your shoulder to pull you closer, urging you to press down against him more fully.

The deeper you sank, the more you felt him smack against your vaginal walls so passionately. You leaned forward, your hands wrapping either side of his waist and slightly digging your nails into his skin as you picked up the pace. The position shifted just enough to drive him pleasantly deeper in each downward stroke, with a perfect angle that made his tip hammer against your cervix.

Suddenly, the hand against your shoulder gripped your cheeks, pulling you down to capture your lips in another hungry kiss. His tongue tangled with yours, both tasting the other's mouth, becoming something truly addicting, as if he just seemed to want to devour you whole, and you couldn't satisfy your own craving. His hand slid to your nape as the kiss deepened, just like the rhythm of both pelvises grew faster.

Every thrust proved how he was losing himself, both of you spiralling higher and higher. He whimpered against your lips, a sound that vibrated deep in your mouth, feeling the tension coiling tighter within your lower belly, your body feeling worn out as it yearned for release.

His hands were everywhere—guiding, pulling, encouraging. You couldn’t help but moan against his lips, the pleasure overwhelming as your movements grew more frantic. He was holding you just right, pressing his open thighs up against your ass cheeks, lifting you just enough to make you feel perfectly aligned with his cock.

His lips parted from yours with a shaky groan as he looked up at you, consumed by the burning need you were becoming. At that moment, with the weight of your hips moving over his, your voice came out shaky, broken by the effort of holding yourself glued to him. “Am I... am I doing it right?”

The question left you trembling because of its vulnerability, making your pulse race as though the very act of asking had laid bare everything you hid beneath that little girl you were for him. You felt so desperate for his confirmation, for him to tell you that this was all he wanted.

For a moment, he looked as if he was caught off guard, eyes widening just a fraction before he composed himself.

Then his hands tightened his grasp on both your ass cheeks with determination. He pressed your hips down more strongly, making his cock burry inside you to the hilt and making your lips crush against his pelvis. “Do you feel that?” He kept pressing you down harder, grinding his hips up to meet yours. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, and it’s perfect. Move just like that—don’t stop.” The words slipped out raw and unfiltered, as if he couldn’t hold them back.

The way he said that broke whatever fragile restraint you’d managed to hold onto, unleashing a fierce, unstoppable heat within you. The only thing that existed now was him—all of him—buried balls deep inside you, turning every nerve in almost an animalistic way.

An uncontrollable need surged through you, overtaking all thoughts, as your hips immediately started to move impulsively, slamming down against his. Your body was just demanding to take everything from him, driven by a thirst he had created that couldn’t be denied. The ache of his cock stretching your entrance open and filling you that much was the divine sensation of him, the incredible pleasure of his flawless body moving exactly in time with and inside yours.

You were in pursuit of more—more of him, more of this satisfying connection. You let out a series of desperate moans, each one of them spurring you both deeper into your carnal urges, neither of you able to stop. The immediateness of it overtook you both. Your breathing was ragged as the intense pressure built, feeling him fully as he lifted his hips to force his cock impossibly inside you, aligning you just right, so deep that you could feel it in your very bones. The edge of your release was so close.

His hands dug into your ass, pulling you more forcefully against him to guide your frantic pace and stoke the fire on your clitoris as his pelvis writhed beneath it. “Just a little more...” He growled, strained, like a man on the edge of breaking. “I’m so close, love…” His words were almost a pleading cry, a raw reflection of the need that overtook him because of you.

You could feel it, see it—his control slipping away, his body trembling beneath yours as his hands gripped your hips now to urge you on, both bodies acting just like animals in heat do with an almost agonising intensity that could leave your womb aching for days. You both moved harder and faster, slapping together with an unbreakable pace. The pressure in your core was unbearable now, so close to snapping that it made your legs shake in both of the sides of his hips with the effort of holding on.

Suddenly, one of his hands slid between your bodies, finding your clitoris to circle his thumb over the painfully swollen nub with expert knowledge. Just like if he was already aware of how to trigger your sensitive spots to push you to the heavens. The friction was impossible to bear in the best, perfect possible way, making you cry in pleasure, unable to control the whimpers that tore from your throat.

You couldn’t hold back any more. His touch, the pressure, the movements of his body—it all became too much. The tension inside you snapped, and with a loud and uncontrolled moan, your walls tightly clenched and pulsated around him, your climax crashing over you in pure, consuming pleasure. Hitting you so hard that you felt like you were floating, holding on to him with the tremors of your hips.

But Astarion didn’t stop. He never ceased the maddening stimulation on your clit or fucking your cunt, coaxing another renovated sensation from you, pushing you past the point of stimulation. You tried to pull away to catch your breath, but his hands clamped down, forcing you to stay in the moment, allowing him to draw even more from you. He was relentless as the need to overstimulate you took control.

“Don’t stop, not now.” He gasped, his voice breaking as he thrust up into you harder, his thumb continuing to rub and circle your bud, trying to force your body into another climax. “I need you, my love. Please…”

The words were the spark that made you give in with a desperate cry as ecstasy crashed over you, smashing everything. You felt him pulsating and releasing with a ragged, almost feral growl, leaving his sweet lips, his body quivering beneath yours as he exploded into you, the rush of his climax pushing you to the edge. The sensation of his warm semen spurting against your cervix and filling you sent you into your second release of the night, the new pressure in your body finally exploding in waves of sheer. The powerful sensations of both of you reaching that peak at the same time made your vision blur.

Every spurt of his release throbbed deep within your womb, drawing low, tired moans from your lips as his cock continued its task to fill you, spreading his seed inside you with each pulse of the head. You pressed your hips down, grinding to take him impossibly deeper as your labia were already crushed against his damp pelvis, letting you feel every twitch and tremor between your aching walls. He groaned softly as he tightened his grip on your hips, and you fucked his cock instinctively in answer to coax out every last shudder from him.

His hands guided your hips to keep you pressed down hard as his cock stroked every sensitive inch of your walls, filling you in a way that made some of his cum slowly spill out from your pussy. Your bodies met again and again, making him feel unable to resist the pull of you as you moved perfectly up and down, simply feeling lost in you as you milked him.

Then, you both collapsed together, sweaty bodies shaking with the intensity of your simultaneous culmination and the aftershocks of your climaxes, leaving you both drained. Your breaths came intermittently, laboured, and it felt as though the camp outside had momentarily ceased to exist. The air between you was impregnated with the smell of sex and your scents, but there was also something tender about the way your bodies were embracing each other that made you feel... nice.

Astarion’s hands moved with a strange gentleness now, gliding up your back with soothing strokes in the cosiness of the moment. His lips pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, his breath still unsteady with a warmness that contrasted the freshness of your lovemaking and the way his cock kept pulsating while softening within you.

He dragged you against him. “Are you alright, darling?” His voice abruptly soft, touched with... care, concern; an unknown tenderness that caught you by surprise.

You nodded against his shoulder. “Yes…” you murmured, fluttering closed as exhaustion settled in and the comfort of his presence lulled you, feeling his quick heartbeat beneath your ear. “Just... give me a second.”

A sweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips, looking at you with adoration as he brushed a damp lock of hair away from your face, fingers running gently over your neck. “I’ll admit, I didn't think I’d be the one left wanting more… but here I am.” He said quietly. “That, my love, was truly something else for someone so lovely.” He pressed another sweet kiss to your cheek, remaining just a little before pulling away.

You let out a shaky laugh, the closeness between you both grounding your still-tingling nerves. Lifting your head slightly and reopening your eyes, you met his gaze with a warmth that made your heart swell. “You know,” you started, “I might just have to keep you around a little longer. You’ve made it hard for me to want anyone else, Astarion.” You reached to cradle his cheek as your hidden confession floated in the air between you.

He leaned into your touch, his hand hovering over yours in a loving gesture. “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?” Astarion said, feigning frustration, though his eyes softened with a rare sincerity in his voice. “I had plans, you know. But it seems I’m not allowed to have anything for myself any more.” He let out a mock sigh. “Guess I’m yours, darling. For now. Don’t get too comfortable with it.”

You smiled softly, tilting your head. “Oh, how tragic,” you teased with mock frustration as well. “I didn’t realise you had such grand plans, Astarion. How terribly cruel of me to steal you away from them.” Your fingers gently traced the edge of his ear, a smirk playing on your lips. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll learn to live with it. Just try not to get too comfortable, either, darling.”

Astarion let out a soft chuckle, his fingers leaving your hand to cup your cheek tenderly. “Well, well, what a vile little thing you are,” he said with a playful smirk, grazing your cheekbone with his thumb. “Using that sweet face of yours to get your way... You really do enjoy this, don’t you?” His laugh was light, almost like a caress, before he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss that left you aware of all the emotions he couldn’t express using words.

He held the kiss for a moment to savour your lips before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he basked in the shared closeness.

After that, he slowly adjusted your position so that you lay more comfortably against him. Once settled, he pulled a soft blanket over you both, wrapping his arms around you snugly.

“Rest now, my love.” He murmured softly. You felt his words settle over you like a soft lullaby, and you snuggled closer to place yourself against him, wrapping your arm gently around his waist.

There, in his embrace, you let yourself fully relax in the quiet comfort of the moment with the rain outside. The feeling of his skin against yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the gentle sweep of his fingers through your hair and your arm—it was everything you needed, a perfect, tender end to the passion from minutes ago.

With a contented sigh, you pressed a soft kiss against his chest before your eyelids started to grow heavy as you drifted into a peaceful calm in his arms.

As the hours passed, the heat of the night slowly faded, leaving you both tangled in each other’s embrace. You both drifted into sleep, your bodies still flushed and sweaty from the intensity of your passion that night. Astarion’s arm was wrapped around you, pulling you closer. The odd warmth of his body against yours was comforting.

As the soft light of dawn filtered through the tent, the storm was now nothing more than a distant memory, and a sudden weight pressed down on you.

Your mind, still slow to fully wake, started to be flooded with vivid recollections—the sex, the words shared, the undeniable connection you felt...

A sharp pang of awareness hit you as you became acutely aware of every quiet sound. 'Had I really just done that?' The question lingered in your mind, though it wasn’t that you regretted it—not with him, not when everything felt so unexpectedly right. But still, a knot tightened in your throat. You’d never been this irresponsible before, never allowed this kind of situation with someone you’d only known for a couple of months.

You slowly pulled yourself from Astarion's embrace. The warmth of his body left a mark on your skin nonetheless. As you sat up, the blanket tangled around your hips, and a sudden rush of cool air hit your naked chest, causing an uninvited shiver to you that woke you a little more.

Your eyes drifted to him, still peacefully asleep beside you. His bare chest rose and fell in slowly, and his expression was soft and relaxed in the morning, a sharp contrast to the intensity of your previous night.

While you stood there, tracing with your eyes his form, the weight of what had just happened was still pressing heavily above your shoulders. Embarrassment crept in, not just for the passion you’d shared but for the place you were in—his tent, in camp, with your friends only a few meters away. The unsettling thought wormed its way into your mind: what if they’d heard you?

Your eyes flicked towards the opening of the tent, a bead of cold sweat rolling down the back of your neck. You pressed your palm to your forehead, the reality sinking in. What if they had? The embarrassment felt like it was growing, and you had to swallow back the rising anxiety carving in your chest.

The thoughts swirled and twisted in your mind. Reaching for your shirt, you slowly sat up a bit more; you felt a sting pain in your muscles from the night’s activities. Your fingers fumbled clumsily to the fabric as the weight of your thoughts made everything feel more difficult. You tried to dress as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb the fragile calm of his slumber.

The texture felt harsh against your sensitive skin, while the cool morning air grazed over the parts of you exposed and between your thighs as you raised the shirt over your head to dress it.

Just as you finally managed to pull it into place, you caught a soft shift beside you. Astarion’s eyes fluttered open, his vision still cloudy with sleep, but his attention immediately locked onto you. He didn’t speak right away; his focus was on the way you moved.

He curved his lips into a small, lazy smile. There was a softness in his expression now that you didn't see before. “Good morning... sneaking off already?” He sighed with the remnants of sleep in his tone. He looked down to where your fingers grabbed the fabric of your shirt, then back to your face, his smile growing wider. His hand reached out to grab your arm, pulling you back towards him gently. “Didn't peg you as the type to leave me after our first time, darling...”

The way he still wanted you close stirred something within you—a warmth despite the storm of emotions inside you. You couldn’t help but smile softly at the thought. “I wasn’t going anywhere...” You replied quietly.

Astarion’s hand moved to your waist, his touch fierce yet tender as he pulled you closer, guiding you to lay back completely against his body. His chest pressed against your back as he nestled his chin in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses there. You could feel the weight of him, enveloping you in a way that was both comforting and deeply intimate.

His arm wrapped securely around your waist, drawing you even nearer as he gently adjusted his position, making sure you were comfortable. You could feel the tension in your body melt as his movements spoke of quiet care, though the nervousness inside you didn’t entirely dissipate.

He must have sensed the shift in your mood. “Is everything alright?” Astarion murmured softly, concerned. His lips brushed over your ear as he spoke, a gentle kiss to your cheek that seemed to reassure you, though you couldn’t quite shake the lingering anxiety that clung to you.

“I... I just—” You broke off. “What if they heard us, Astarion?”

“We’re safe, darling,” he murmured, his voice a soothing caress that chased away the remnants of your worry. “No one knows a thing. The storm was our shield last night.”

Astarion’s hand lingered at your waist as he shifted his weight, guiding you gently. And with a slight motion, he turned you to lie on your back and face him fully. His gaze locked onto yours, his crimson eyes glimmering with something unspoken. He propped himself on an elbow beside you, sliding his other hand from your waist to cradle your cheek.

Seeing the faint worry lingering in your eyes, he offered a small, tender smile. “You know, love,” he began, “this is different. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t. I never imagined I’d feel like this—like I’d actually want this... someone.” His thumb brushed softly over your cheekbone, as if the gesture alone could convey what words struggled to express. “Last night wasn’t just indulgence, not with you. It was... real.”

The way he looked at you then was as though he’d laid down his armour, revealing a part of himself you’d only glimpsed. “I’ve spent centuries taking what I was told to, living by someone else’s twisted desires. Wanting something—someone—for myself? I’d almost forgotten what that even felt like.” He hesitated. “But here we are... and being with you, feeling this... it’s more than I ever dared to hope for.”

Your breath caught, and the sincerity in his voice made your chest feel both heavy and light at once. You swallowed, a warmth blossoming where your anxiety had been. “I want you to know that I meant every word,” he whispered against your ear.

As he drew back, his fingers entwined with yours, and he gave you a small smile, one filled with that rare sincerity he reserved just for you. “So, let’s not let the world outside intrude on this, hmm?” His eyes gleamed with a quiet plea. “Not yet.”

The words hung in the warm morning light, soothing the unease within you. Astarion shifted slightly again to recline back onto the soft bedroll, pulling you with him. You instinctively wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him close.

But as your fingers traced along his side, you brushed against something you forgot. A faint crease formed between your brows as you looked down. There was the bandage you had tied the night before, stained with a faint bloom of red where his wound lay concealed. A quiet ache of worry unfurled in your chest as your hand rested against the edge of the bandage.

Without thinking, your fingers traced lightly over his abdomen, avoiding the more sensitive area near the bandage. “Astarion,” you called softly with a new urgency. “Are you... alright? I might’ve moved too much last night.”

Astarion’s eyes opened a bit more as he recognised the genuine concern in your voice. “Oh, my love,” he purred with a smirk on his lips as he glanced down to where your hand rested on his stomach. “If anyone could survive your... enthusiasm, it would be me.” His tone softened as he covered your hand with his.

You bit your lip, the persistent worry stirring as you recalled the intensity of the night before. “Still, I should've been more careful with you,” you replied with a faint blush warming your cheeks. “I didn’t even think about it last night... I just... wanted you.”

He shifted slightly, pulling you closer until your foreheads touched, his lips barely brushing yours as he spoke again. “Believe me, last night... was everything I never knew I needed,” he said, with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You've given me a moment of calmness I never thought I’d experience again.”

Your hand pressed lightly against his chest; he let out a quiet, contented sigh. His own hand drifted down to rest against your waist, drawing you even closer.

He brushed his lips softly against the tip of your nose, placing a sweet kiss there before he spoke. “The truth is, I’m not used to someone worrying over me. I’ve learnt to dismiss my wounds and to push through the pain alone. You make me feel seen, darling…”

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back just enough to catch your gaze, reaching with his hand your cheek to rub his thumb along your cheekbone in a gentle, absent-minded swipe. Your heart softened as you wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself melt. You nestled closer to him, the soft heat of his body a constant pull as your fingers traced lightly over his skin, careful not to touch the bandage.

Astarion’s fingers moved in slow strokes along your back, his touch lingering at the small of your waist. The quiet way his body urged you nearer made your pulse race in a way that was both comforting and thrilling. You could feel the passion of the night still lingering in the air between you, a magnetic pull that only seemed to deepen the longer you were in his presence.

“You know,” he murmured lowly, his velvety voice wrapping around your thoughts. He leaned in, his lips brushing over yours as he closed his eyes briefly. “I find myself wanting more.”

A small shiver of anticipation ran through you. He moved slightly, shifting his body to bring you closer, his hand sliding down your side until he could grab one of your buttocks. It stirred something inside of you—something that made it hard to breathe, hard to think.

You pressed your lips to his to give him a soft kiss before pulling back to meet his eyes. The intensity in his look made you ache with longing. “Astarion, are you sure you’re alright?” You asked softly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He froze for a moment, his eyes narrowing with something dark and intense, and then he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and sensual, tasting of the night and everything you’d shared. His mouth moved against yours with a quiet eagerness, and you let yourself melt into him, your hand sliding to his waist, feeling the bandage beneath your palm.

But you pulled back slightly, concern flitting through your mind again. Astarion’s eyes glimmered, his expression a blend of amusement and something achingly vulnerable. “Darling,” he replied, his voice a rough, affectionate murmur. “I can handle anything you give me.”

You leaned into him, grazing your lips with his as you spoke, “I just want to make sure you're alright... I don’t want to push—” Without letting you finish, he leaned forward to kiss your lips again to silence you. His mouth moved against yours with a quiet desperation, a demand for attention.

Astarion’s hands slowly roamed your sides as he shifted, positioning himself above you on the bedroll. You could feel the warmth of his body radiating into yours, his thighs pressed tightly against yours.

Your hands moved instinctively, sliding around his waist, bracing yourself against his lower back, feeling the curve of his muscles tense under your touch. The kiss deepened, slow and calm, as if he tasted every inch of you, pushing any lingering uncertainty away.

One of his hands moved to catch your hand and entwine his fingers with yours before pressing your hand down against the pillow. His other hand found your other wrist, lifting it gently above your head and pinning it there, his grip firm yet laced with a sensual care that only deepened your wanting of him. His thighs pressing tighter against yours.

Astarion’s breath was shallow against your lips as he finally broke the kiss to meet your gaze, his pupils wide with a need that mirrored your own, his mouth curving into a wicked smile as he held you in place. The subtle weight of him, combined with the feeling of his fingers interlocked with yours, created an undeniable sense of belonging, a wordless claim that ignited every nerve.

“Don’t worry about me,” he murmured roughly because of his desire, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Just stay here. With me. That’s all I need.”

‎

[annikvs]

Resentment. An underlying anger.

[mistercrowbar]

Sometimes a family is two dads, the alien baby they forgot in their inventory, and 7000 vampire spawn unleashed into the Underdark.

[avenananana]

...and especially thank you for reading ^^

Masterlist

[oonalovesastarionssimpleplan]

thats what The Leg Thing Mod on Nexus looks

[vancunin]

Oh, that hair.

[mercymaker]

✓ If the player is romancing Astarion, and he stayed a spawn.

[moonselune]

omg i need to see the eye color changing prompt with the boys!!!

awh helllllllls yeah

Gale:

Gale’s voice carried the rhythmic cadence of a practiced scholar — smooth, articulate, and rich with detail. He paced before the hearth of your shared study space in camp, gesturing animatedly with one hand while the other cradled a thick tome, opened to a page saturated with arcane runes and marginalia. He was speaking passionately — something about the unstable ley lines just outside Baldur’s Gate and how they might affect elemental casting in prolonged combat.

You sat across from him on a low bench, chin propped lazily in one hand, eyes locked on him with the veneer of attention.

“—so if the ambient weave reacts to a surge in primal energy, the spell will require more control, not less,” he was saying, glancing up from the book. “Which is why discipline is paramount. Concentration is—are you even listening, my dear?”

Your eyes — the telltale, ever-changing windows into your moods — had shifted from a neutral silver to a dull, uninspired grey. It was subtle at first, but Gale caught it immediately, narrowing his eyes in a mock-stern frown. The boredom radiating from your expression was almost theatrical.

“You’re bored,” he accused, exasperated but amused. “Honestly, I thought this was one of my more engaging lectures.”

“I am listening,” you defended, voice tinged with a smile. “I just happen to think your pacing is more hypnotic than the weave right now.”

Gale gave you a look. The kind that professors likely reserved for unruly apprentices. “Then concentrate. This is fundamental magical theory.”

The moment he said it — that particular tone of strictness in his voice — you felt the flutter. A warmth in your chest, a faint quiver in your throat. And Gale saw it too: the faint flicker of pink flaring behind your irises, brief but unmistakable against the grey.

He paused.

“Oh,” he said slowly, one brow lifting as the corner of his mouth curved into the beginnings of a knowing smirk. “Oh, I see what’s happening.”

Your posture straightened instinctively, a touch of defensiveness already creeping into your voice. “What?”

“That look in your eye,” he murmured, setting the book down on the table with exaggerated care. “It wasn't boredom at all. Well, perhaps partially. But that pink… was that infatuation?” He leaned closer, peering at your eyes like a jeweler inspecting a particularly revealing gemstone. “No—lust. You like it when I lecture you.”

You rolled your eyes — they flashed briefly to yellow (alerted), then right back to that traitorous pink.

“I like your voice,” you said.

“Mmhmm. And you like when I use it to tell you what to do.”

He was insufferably smug now, folding his arms as he loomed closer, absolutely relishing the turn in the conversation. “You’re blushing,” he added with glee, even though your eyes were doing far more talking than your face. “Tell me — when I told you to concentrate just now, what exactly did you picture?”

You made a vague attempt at playing it cool. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

Gale crouched beside your seat, fingers brushing lightly against your knee.

“Should I start assigning homework?” he purred. “Mark up your spellwork with red ink? Give you grades?”

You snorted, but the laughter caught in your throat as your eyes brightened — pure, unashamed pink now.

“I knew it,” he said triumphantly, grinning like a cat with cream. “Well. I suppose next time you feign boredom during a lesson, I’ll know exactly what’s going on in that mischievous mind of yours.”

You leaned in, your smile sharp. “Just be careful, Gale. If you're going to play the teacher, don’t be surprised when the student misbehaves.”

His breath hitched slightly, the air between you thick with suggestion. Then Gale exhaled, shaking his head in fond disbelief. “Gods, I adore you.”

And for a heartbeat, your eyes went a soft, glowing pink — no flicker, no confusion. Just love.

Astarion:

The Absolute camp was a mess of crude barricades, filth, and torch-lit patrols. You, Astarion, and the others had been sneaking around for what felt like hours—avoiding goblin guards and looking for a way through without drawing attention.

Everything had been going smoothly. Until it wasn’t.

There was a wet squelch. A startled yelp. Then a crash followed by the unmistakable, gut-turning slop of something unpleasant.

You froze behind a half-rotted cart, peeking over to see Astarion flailing in a pit—no, a worg pen, by the smell of it—and coated in brownish muck that left very little to the imagination.

He scrambled to his feet, hands held out stiffly, his usual elegance obliterated by whatever vile substance now clung to him.

"Oh gods—what is this?! What is this?!" he wailed, slipping again and catching himself on the side of the pen. His fingers came away coated. He gagged.

Lae'zel grimaced. Shadowheart muttered something about karma. You stifled a laugh behind your hand.

Once the coast was clear, the group regrouped outside the pen. Astarion stumbled toward you, arms out as if begging for a hug—or maybe a cleansing ritual.

"This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me," he said, his voice rising to a near-hysterical pitch. "Do you know what I’ve just wallowed in?! And of course it would be me who falls into the pit of literal shit—worg shit, no less!"

You coughed, covering your mouth. Not because of the smell—though that certainly didn’t help—but because you were biting back laughter so hard your ribs hurt.

But your eyes betrayed you.

Bright yellow.

Alert. Amused.

Astarion stopped mid-rant.

He narrowed his eyes, peering at you with dramatic offense. "Are your eyes—are you—laughing?"

"What? No!" you said quickly. "No, of course not!"

He pointed, scandalized. "They’re yellow."

"They always go yellow when I’m… thinking fast!" you lied, though your smile was now twitching at the corners of your mouth. "Just processing."

"Processing?! Processing what—the depth of my suffering?!"

You opened your mouth to try again, but just then, a breeze blew through the camp. Astarion turned slightly, and the full scent hit you. Acrid, musky, overwhelmingly earthy.

Your stomach turned.

Your eyes flashed green.

His jaw dropped. He took a slow step back, as if you'd slapped him.

"Green?! Green?!" he screeched, hands flailing. "You’re disgusted by me now?!"

"No! I mean, not you—just… the, uh, situation!"

"You can’t lie to me! You’re literally incapable of hiding it! I fall into one revolting cesspit and suddenly I’m some sort of tragic, stinking creature of the night?"

"Astarion, come on—"

"I had style. I had dignity!"

"You still do!" you insisted, chuckling now. You couldn’t stop yourself.

"Then why are your eyes screaming ‘get away from me, foul beast’?!"

You stepped forward, trying to soothe him, still biting back laughter. "Because my eyes are dramatic. Just like you."

He blinked. Then, slowly—reluctantly—a smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Well. I suppose we do have that in common."

"You want a hug or a bath first?"

Astarion sniffed himself, face crumpling in horror. "Absolutely the bath. And you are helping. And scrubbing. All of it."

"Not until you stop smelling like a goblin’s outhouse."

He narrowed his eyes. "Now they’re green and yellow."

"Welcome to the complex range of human emotion."

He huffed, turned dramatically on his heel—and immediately slipped a little in something squelchy. He caught himself with a hiss. You burst into open laughter.

"How dare you," he called over his shoulder, voice full of mock betrayal. "You’ll pay for this. With buckets of rosewater and scented oils."

"Anything to make this memory bearable?"

"Anything to make me forget the texture," he said, shuddering.

You just laughed harder. And your eyes kept glowing yellow. And just a bit green. And maybe—just maybe—a flicker of pink when he scowled and muttered something about how he "used to be beautiful."

Wyll:

"You always try to fix things on your own. Like you don’t need anyone."

Wyll’s voice wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t raised. But it landed—gentle, yes, but direct in a way that cut past armor. You blinked, caught off guard by how much it stung. There was no malice in him. Just observation. Frustration, maybe. Concern. But it still lodged itself deep in your chest like a splinter of something too true, too raw.

You looked away, pretending to adjust your sleeve, buying yourself a moment. A prickle worked its way up your throat, the kind that wasn’t quite tears but lived in the same neighborhood. You didn't say anything, but your eyes betrayed you—as they always did.

The pale silver shimmer that had been there moments ago dulled and darkened into a quiet, deep blue.

Wyll saw it instantly. Of course he did. His expression fell in slow motion, like watching a man drop a sword he never meant to draw.

"No," he said softly, stepping closer. "No, gods, I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t trying to upset you."

You shook your head quickly, smiling with a practiced ease that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Wyll, it’s okay. Honestly. I know you didn’t."

"But I did." He looked down at his hands, as if surprised they hadn’t somehow physically harmed you. “I see it. You’re hurting.

"It’s not a big deal," you insisted, trying to wave it away with a light laugh. "You’re not wrong anyway. I do tend to take everything on myself. It’s a fair observation."

"You’re doing it again," Wyll said, his voice quieter now, like he was afraid any louder and the moment would shatter. "Playing it down. Like it doesn’t matter. Like you don’t matter."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he kept going, voice colored with that particular strain of guilt only someone with a good heart could wear.

"I hate that I put that look in your eyes. I hate that I spoke without thinking how it might feel to you."

Your smile tugged at the corners again, shaky but real this time. He was being ridiculous. Kind. So Wyll. And somehow that made it worse—not in a painful way, but in the way where kindness becomes a mirror, and you can’t avoid your own hurt even when you want to.

You crossed your arms loosely, trying to make yourself look smaller without seeming like you were withdrawing. "It just caught me off guard, that’s all. It’s not about you. I’m fine."

"But you’re not. You’re blue." He pointed toward your eyes, voice a blend of exasperation and heartbreak. “That shade of blue—I've only seen it a handful of times. It’s the one where I know I’ve truly put my foot in it."

You tried not to laugh, pressing your lips together. He leaned in closer, eyes narrowing with melodramatic gravity. “It’s the ‘Wyll Ravengard is a damned fool and now must suffer the weight of his own words for eternity’ shade.”

You lost it. A laugh cracked through your chest—soft at first, then full-bodied, shoulders shaking slightly. You damned him for knowing just how to undo you.

"Wyll," you gasped through the grin, "you’re making this so much worse."

"Good!" he cried, throwing the back of his hand to his forehead. “I deserve it! Let the punishment commence! Let me wallow in shame and regret.”

"You’re turning my minor emotional blip into a Volo tragedy," you said, still laughing.

Wyll clutched his heart with both hands, eyes wide. "Minor? My love, your eyes were a thunderstorm of sorrow. A tempest in cerulean!"

"Okay, that’s a stretch—"

"A tempest, I say!"

He leaned forward again, trying to peek into your eyes for any lingering traces of blue. They had lightened already, more silver now, with a faint blush of pink rising along the edges.

He noticed. Of course he did. His voice softened immediately. “There it is,” he said, his smile warm and sincere. “A little pink. Thank the gods.”

"Great. Now you’re tracking my feelings like they’re weather patterns."

"They are,” he said with a small smile. “And I never want to be caught without shelter again."

You rolled your eyes, but your smile stayed. He reached out and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing just beneath your eye as if he could soothe the color away with a touch.

“I’ll be more careful,” he murmured. “With how I speak to you. What I assume. I never want to see that shade again. Not because of me.”

Your heart twisted with warmth—and guilt—and affection all tangled together.

"I am fine," you whispered. "Truly. I just felt something for a second, and then it passed. You didn’t do anything wrong."

Wyll smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple, lingering there.

"Still," he murmured, lips against your skin, "I’ll write a sonnet about it. Title it An Apology in Blue. It’ll be very dramatic. Everyone will weep."

You snorted, grabbing the front of his shirt and tugging him close.

"If you rhyme 'sorry' with 'morning glory' again, I swear—"

"Perish the thought, my beloved!" he grinned, eyes sparkling. "I’ve grown as a poet."

"And a partner."

He leaned his forehead to yours. "Because of you."

Your eyes were pink now. Bright. Full. And finally, finally, he let himself smile like he’d been forgiven. Because he had.

Halsin:

It had been a long day winding through the lower quarters of Baldur’s Gate — the kind of day that hung heavy with the scent of soot, warm bread, and the salt tang drifting in from the harbor. You had wandered down narrow alleys and under creaking balconies, brushing past silk-draped merchants and fishmongers with salt on their fingers. The city buzzed, sprawling and alive, a contrast to the stillness of the woods you’d grown used to. You were used to movement, noise — but not this. Not her.

You turned the corner, trailing just slightly behind Halsin, when a voice rang out with too much familiarity and far too much warmth.

“Well,” she drawled, arms crossed as she leaned against the archway of a tavern, "if it isn’t the bear himself."

Halsin froze. You could see the recognition bloom in him before he even turned to face her, his spine straightening like a struck chord. A slow smile crept over his face — not the kind he gave to just anyone, but one softened with nostalgia, with old laughter and shared memories.

“Neryssa,” he said, and your stomach sank.

She was tall, dressed in leathers that had clearly seen battle, her hair woven into a braid that gleamed in the sunlight. She looked like the kind of woman who had once kissed Halsin in the rain, or fought beside him bare-shouldered and bloodstained. She looked like someone who still thought she had a piece of him — and worse, maybe she did.

They stepped into each other’s space like it was the most natural thing in the world. She clapped a hand to his shoulder, and he chuckled — low and fond, like a memory made flesh.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” she said, her voice teasing.

“You have,” Halsin replied, his tone rich and warm, eyes roving her figure with a familiarity that tightened your jaw.

You were still. Perfectly still. Like a statue carved into the shadow of a stall. Your arms hung loosely at your sides, your mouth curled into an expression of mild amusement. You watched with cool detachment — or so you hoped.

But your eyes betrayed you.

The dull silver of your usual neutrality bled away almost instantly, overtaken by a red so deep it bordered on violent. It shimmered like heat across metal, too bright, too stark — the color of betrayal and fury barely kept in check. And beneath it, a bitter, nauseated green twisted at the edges of your irises — not at Neryssa, no, but at Halsin. At his oblivious smile. At the way his voice dipped when he said her name. At how he still looked at her like she was a poem he’d once written.

And worst of all — he didn’t even notice.

Halsin kept talking — about old campaigns, the time they’d held the line at Deepmere, how she’d once saved his life with a spear through the ribs. His voice was animated, golden with nostalgia. And you — you stood just a few paces away, nodding, smiling, burning from the inside out.

It wasn’t until Astarion wandered up beside you, eyes glinting with mischief and absolutely no mercy, that anything shifted.

“Well,” he said, too casually, “you are quite the stormcloud today.”

You blinked.

“Excuse me?” you said, your voice level, measured.

He tilted his head, tapping a finger thoughtfully against his lip. “I’m just saying… if looks could kill, poor Halsin would be mulch by now.”

Halsin finally turned to look at you. And for the first time, really looked.

His words caught in his throat as his eyes met yours. Not the calm silver he was used to. Not the flicker of pink he adored seeing when he kissed you. But a violent, molten red threaded through with something darker, something ancient. A kind of wrath he’d never seen before — not from you.

He opened his mouth.

You raised a hand, a placating smile still glued to your lips. “Don’t,” you said gently. “I’m fine.”

He stared at you a moment longer.

Then slowly, he turned back to Neryssa and bid her farewell — a few kind words, a lingering smile, and then you were walking, his long strides silent beside you, and the air between you crackled with what had gone unspoken.

Later, much later, when the fire at camp had burned low and the others had turned in, Halsin found you standing beneath a tree, alone. You didn’t look at him. Not at first.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, voice rough with something almost ashamed. “I didn’t even realize I had.”

You let the silence stretch. The wind whispered through the leaves above, and an owl hooted in the far distance — the world so perfectly serene, it made your seething contrast even more unbearable.

“I know,” you said at last. “That’s the problem.”

He stepped forward cautiously, as if unsure if he was still welcome in your space. “She was part of my past. But she’s not my present. That’s you.”

“She didn’t make me angry,” you said, finally looking at him. “You did.”

Your voice didn’t tremble. It was too steady. Too cold. It was the kind of voice that came after the storm, when the damage had already been done and the water was still rising.

“I stood there listening to you speak to her like she still had a claim to you,” you continued, eyes flashing red again — not quite as violently, but still enough to make him flinch. “You made me feel… like I was watching someone I love forget me in real time.”

Halsin groaned softly and dragged both hands over his face. “Gods, I am so sorry,” he whispered, anguish in every syllable. “I was thoughtless. I didn’t mean it that way, but of course that doesn’t matter. I never wanted to make you feel small. Or less than. And the fact that I did—” His voice cracked slightly. “I don’t know how to make it right. But tell me. Please tell me what to do, and I will do it.”

He looked utterly devastated.

You let your arms fall slowly, tension easing in minute degrees. Your eyes, still simmering with anger, began to dull into something softer — steel grey, maybe. Not forgiveness, but the absence of pure fury. A temporary truce.

“You could start,” you said quietly, “by never speaking to an ex like that again in front of me. Or at all, if you can help it.”

“Done,” he said instantly.

“And maybe,” you added, after a pause, “remember that I am not so invulnerable as I look.”

He took another step closer, carefully, until your hands were nearly brushing.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known,” he said softly, reverently. “But I will never mistake your strength for invulnerability again.”

Finally, you sighed — long, quiet, bone-deep — and let yourself lean forward, pressing your brow gently against his chest. He let out a breath of his own, one that sounded like pure relief, and wrapped his arms around you with careful reverence.

“I’m still mad at you,” you murmured.

“I know,” he said.

“We're sleeping with clothes on tonight.”

“I deserve that.”

You let him hold you anyway. Not because everything was fine — but because he was trying. Because he had looked you in the eyes and seen you. And for now, that was enough.

I originally wrote 'you are sleeping outside the tent tonight' for halsin but realised he would like that lmao. Hope you guys enjoyed this! -Seluney xox

[khywren]

Denouement

pairing: Astarion/f!reader rating: 18+ MDNI word count: 3.1k tags/warnings: smut, emotional sex, piv sex, fingering, soft spawn Astarion

summary: Bergamot and rosemary ensnare your senses, and your eyes flutter closed. Here in his arms, you are safe. Home. “I think I'm ready to try again,” Astarion says after a moment, pulling you close. “Just you. Just us.” ────────── In which Astarion is ready to explore intimacy with you once again.

a/n: based on this little drabble from the other week! the title is derived from a literary device where all the threads of a story finally come together - the a-ha moment, if you will. i thought it was rather fitting for this piece, given the circumstances. :)

AO3 ┊ masterlist

It's well past sundown when you join Astarion in your shared bedroom. You find him in his usual spot, needle and thread in hand as he busies himself with a bit of embroidery. Deft fingers weave the needle through the fabric, defining the outline of what looks to be the petals of a rose. Lost in his work, he seems not to notice your arrival.

You've already dressed for bed. The sleeves of his old camp shirt nearly fall past your fingertips, and although the garment doesn't quite swallow you, it's still loose enough to be comfortable in the lingering summer heat. 

Astarion had made plenty of sarcastic remarks when you had insisted on keeping it, teasing you about being overly sentimental. Perhaps there was some truth to that, but the first time he had laid eyes on you when you came to bed wearing little else but that same shirt, laces loose enough to expose the tantalizing swell of your breasts beneath the fabric, it had been all the vindication you needed. 

You wear it now out of habit more than anything, ensuring that you remain enveloped in his scent even during those rare times his arms aren't wrapped snugly around you in the middle of the night.

As you pad quietly across the floorboards, Astarion looks up, gaze sweeping across the room before finally settling on you. He's looking at you like he did that first time, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and you catch his throat bob as he swallows thickly. 

His eyes never leave you, even as he sets his work aside on the nightstand. It's hard to know what he's thinking, and for a moment you almost wish you still had your tadpoles so you could peer into his mind.

Hand outstretched, he beckons you to him.

Few things about Astarion surprise you anymore, but there's something different about the way he laces your fingers between his own and tugs you down into his lap, something possessive that catalyzes a shiver of excitement within you. Gooseflesh blooms in its wake, and you settle comfortably on top of his thighs.

His fingers caress your jaw and glide through the soft hair at the nape of your neck, guiding your lips down to meet his own. The kiss is insistent but soft, a gentle tug on your roots prompting you to open your mouth for him. Astarion eagerly slips his tongue inside, humming contentedly into your mouth as he kisses you breathless.

When he remembers that you need to breathe, he reluctantly lets you pull away. He's waiting for the moment you let him have you once more, his impatience evident in the way he furrows his brow and slots his mouth back over yours when he feels you've taken long enough.

You laugh against the press of his lips.

“Astarion, what's gotten into you?”

He silences your protests with another barrage of kisses, tearing his mouth away from yours only to pepper more of them across the curve of your jaw as he traces a searing path towards your ear. You're fond of the way his fangs graze your skin, the gentle nips he gives you as he turns his attention to your earlobe.

Your breath hitches, your body becoming pliant in his arms as he clamps his free hand around your waist. Caged within your ribs, your heart drums its staccato beat.

“I've been thinking,” he murmurs against your ear between kisses, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That sounds awfully dangerous.” Your hands find their way into his shirt, bunching tightly in the fabric. It's the only thing anchoring you, the mischievous little inflection in his tone yet another spark that threatens to kindle a roaring inferno of desire within you.

When he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are the fire that finally sets you alight, blazing red embers that simmer with need. You feel warm, almost deliriously so, as the heat that had been pooling low in your stomach begins to ebb throughout the rest of your body.

“Oh,” he drawls, grinning through his fangs. “You've no idea, darling.”

You match his smirk, earning first a quiet gasp and then a satisfied sigh when you surge forward to kiss him once more. The grip he has on you tightens, fingertips digging into the plush part of your thighs as his hand slips beneath your shirt.

“Should I be concerned?” you tease.

“It’s nothing quite that scandalous, I'm afraid,” he remarks with a click of his tongue, breath almost warm as it fans across your lips.

Head cocked to the side, you sit back on your calves and study his face. He's been acting strange, but you can find nothing in his expression that might explain his behavior.

Astarion seems to sense your unanswered question when he says, “What? I'm quite serious, darling.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes incredulously.

“Then what do you call all of this?”

Astarion's lips are cool as he presses them against the column of your throat, enjoying the warmth of your skin and the feeling of your blood pulsing just beneath the surface. He groans quietly, and you feel the way the noise rumbles in his throat.

“Consider it a thought experiment.”

You aren't quite certain what he means by that, but when both of his hands settle firmly on the curve of your waist and he lifts his head to rest his brow against yours, your mind is immediately swept clear of all coherent thought.

Bergamot and rosemary ensnare your senses, and your eyes flutter closed. Here in his arms, you are safe. Home.

“I think I'm ready to try again,” Astarion says after a moment, pulling you close. “Just you. Just us.”

You remember the drow twins. Astarion had seemed so eager then, too, but it had all been too much, too soon. Later that same evening, he had buried his face into the crook of your arm to conceal his disappointment, and you had soothed him with a gentle hand through his hair, reassuring him that everything was fine.

That had been the last time either of you had been intimate with each other. You knew what he had needed was time, and you had more than enough to spare.

His body is responsive enough, that much you can concede. You can feel it in the way he tenses beneath you, and the hardening ridge of his cock beneath his trousers.

And yet…

You take his face in your hands, thumbs resting on the apples of his cheeks. Tipping his chin upwards, you search his eyes, but he does not balk under your scrutiny. You find them clear and bright. Present. The flicker of lamplight catches the myriad shades of red, reflecting brilliantly as an affectionate smile slowly spreads across his face. He lays a single hand over one of yours, squeezing gently.

“Okay,” you breathe, pressing a tender kiss to his brow. “Okay.”

The words have only just left your mouth before Astarion’s hand is on your back, supporting your weight as he flips the both of you over and eases you back onto the mattress beneath him. An errant wave of your hand extinguishes the lantern beside the bed, leaving the pair of you swathed in silvery moonlight.

In his haste to remove his shirt, Astarion gets caught somewhere in the tangle of his sleeves, and you giggle as he tosses it away with a huff of embarrassment.

You anticipate some sort of sarcastic quip from him, but his mouth is too busy lavishing you with open-mouthed kisses, anywhere and everywhere your skin is exposed to him. His hands, too, are ever-eager, bracingly cold against your bare stomach as he hikes your borrowed shirt up and over your shoulders. 

You sit up just enough for him to remove it, tossed aside as haphazardly as his own. The moment his hands are free, he resumes his exploration of your body, fingers mapping out every inch of you as they glide over your torso and the expanse of your thighs. Every time he reaches somewhere particularly sensitive, you feel him grin against you, mentally cataloging the information for future use. Every soft sigh, every wanton moan, all of them are music to his ears, a symphony for him alone.

“Stunning,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, drawing a low moan from your lips as he palms your bare breast. “You are simply… gods. ”

Astarion pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the taut bud between them. You whimper and writhe beneath him, breaths shallow as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your hands fumble for purchase in his hair, fingers threading through his soft curls and dragging his face close enough to kiss him again.

He captures every wanton noise you make for him as he kneads and teases your breasts, enjoying the ease with which a single swipe of his thumb stiffens your nipples into pert little peaks.

“Astarion…” you whine, high-pitched and needy. You meet his eyes again, vision hazy through half-closed lids. “I…”

“Shh,” he hushes you, coaxing your thighs open with the knee he slides between your legs. “I know. Patience, love.”

Astarion rewards you with the hand that trails over your stomach, purposely featherlight as he builds the anticipation growing within your core. You know what he means to do, and the thought alone has your heart hammering wildly.

You help him kick off your underwear after he tugs them down your thighs, exposing your aching center. You are slick with desire for him, quite certain you might just unravel completely the instant he touches you.

His fingertips dance over the inside of your thigh, trailing up, up, up. You throw your arms around his neck, breath caught in your throat.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, yes…”

Your body sings in ecstasy as Astarion's fingers drag a torturously slow path along your center, gathering the arousal that's pooled between your slick folds. The sensation is enough that your back bows off the mattress at the same time you dig your nails into his shoulders, throat raw as you cry out for him.

Astarion watches you with all the reverence of a devout worshiper, transfixed by the way you respond so beautifully to his touch.

“Is this what you wanted, sweet girl?” he asks, tracing his fingers in lazy circles around your oversensitive clit. Your hips buck against him of their own accord, pushing you even further into the open palm of his hand.

“Yes,” you say again, the only word your addled mind can grasp. “Yes, that feels – ohhhh… ”

Your voice breaks into a choked sob when Astarion presses two fingers against your entrance, slowly working you open as they slide inside your tight, wet heat. Your walls flutter around him, pulsing as he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a slow, delicious pace.

“Astarion, please…” you whimper, “make me come.”

Astarion uses his free hand to sweep an errant lock of hair from your face, tucking it affectionately behind your ear. His fingers linger on your face, tenderly tipping your chin up before he captures your lips in a brief yet passionate kiss.

��I will, my love,” he promises. “All in good time.” His expression shifts, not quite stern, but his face loses some of its softness when he asks, “Do you want my fingers or my cock?”

Astarion's face fits so nicely in your hands as you reach up to cradle it in your palms, and he has nowhere to look but into your eyes, a tempest of lust, love, and longing.

“Your cock,” you tell him. “I want to come on your cock.”

Something akin to pride flits across his face, a smile of pure satisfaction curling the edges of his mouth as Astarion reaches to unlace his trousers. They disappear with his underwear over the edge of the bed, his cock springing free as a relieved sigh slips past his lips.

“Thank the gods,” he groans, sliding a hand through his hair to tame his unkempt curls and sweep them back. “I can be patient when the need arises, but even I have my limits.”

You laugh and part your legs wide to accommodate him as he settles between them, one hand working his cock as he readies himself for you.

Even in the dim light, his eyes seem to glimmer like inset gems, his gaze trained on your face as he takes in the sight of you beneath him.

Astarion splays a hand on your waist to steady himself, guiding his cock between your legs. He slicks himself with your arousal, rocking his hips against you in slow, rhythmic motions.

He isn't even inside you yet, but he already has you whimpering, the friction igniting every nerve ending in your body.

Your eyes trail down the length of your stomach, unable to keep yourself from staring as he thrusts lazily against you. The blunt head of his cock grinds against your clit, sending wave after wave of arousal pulsing through you.

“Eyes on me, darling,” Astarion says.

You obey without thinking. By the time your gaze finds his, your face is flushed, mouth open as your breaths come in ragged little pants.

An easy smile spreads over his face, and the hand on your waist moves to gently cup your cheek.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

There is nothing but adoration in his voice, and you laugh softly when you tell him, “Yes, plenty of times. But never like this.”

“You are,” he reiterates, smoothing the pad of his thumb over your skin.

“Especially like this. My beautiful girl.”

Your cheeks burn, but Astarion doesn't give you enough time to feel self-conscious for very long before he begins to push inside you, slowly burying himself inside your waiting warmth with a few shallow thrusts. Your body molds to his completely, and it's as if the two of you were made for one another.

He feels so good inside you – so perfect, so complete. He can feel it too, almost lost within the mounting pleasure that knits his brows together and compels his mouth to fall slack.

Astarion doesn't move at first, content enough to simply be , eyes crinkling with the smile on his face as you take his hands in your own, interlacing your fingers.

There are no words to convey his thoughts properly, so he chooses instead to show you the only way he can. He pulls almost completely out of you, agonizingly slow as he drags his cock along your walls. 

When you give him what he wants, a low, breathy moan, he rolls his hips forward again, pushing himself deep inside. He sets a slow, purposeful pace, bottoming out with every languid thrust as your hips meet flush. It's amazing how even like this, he can build the tension inside you, every one of his movements perfectly calculated to bring you both incredible pleasure.

You can tell he's holding back, that he wants to lose himself in you completely. But you know that it's about so much more. It's about listening to the persistent beating of your heart, the way your hands feel as he holds them between your bodies and gazes into your eyes.

It’s about finally reclaiming the pieces of himself he once thought lost for good, a thousand nameless faces that did nothing but take and take and take until there was nothing left for him to give.

And you – you asked for nothing, letting him set whatever boundaries he needed.

It would be impossible for him to do anything but love you. And he does. More than anything, he adores you.

You use your grip on his hands to tug him closer to you, arms slipping around his back as he presses his chest to yours. Astarion’s thrusts gradually become less controlled, hips rolling into you with growing need as he savors the feel of you beneath him – so warm, so alive, so…

“Mine,” he affirms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Mine, mine, mine.”

His arms bracket either side of your head, one hand cradling the base of your skull as he holds you close, like so much flotsam set adrift in the roiling ocean.

“Yes, Astarion,” you tell him. “Always, always…”

Astarion moves to adjust his position between your legs, angling himself just so that every snap of his hips thrusts his cock against that sensitive spot inside you. You cry out his name, little crescent moons adorning his back everywhere you've dug your fingers into his skin.

“I – I’m going to – Astarion –”

“Yes, my love,” he groans into your ear, lifting his head just enough to see the way your face contorts with pleasure each time he thrusts himself inside you. “Come for me, let me feel you come undone.”

His hand is between your thighs once more, expertly circling your clit with the pad of his index finger. Your toes curl into the mattress, pupils blown as you find yourself swept up in the intensity of his crimson eyes.

One, two, three thrusts more is all it takes before you shatter, back arched as you cry out for him. Your walls pulse around his cock as you tumble headfirst into euphoria, clinging to him desperately as he fucks you through it, elevating the intensity of your orgasm.

Only then does Astarion let himself go, grunting as he pistons into you, unable to deny himself this simple pleasure any longer. You feel the moment he reaches his own peak, spilling himself inside you with a stuttering groan as he clumsily kisses you over and over again.

He doesn't pull out immediately, selfishly indulging in your body’s warmth. You are a tangle of limbs as he finally falls to the mattress beside you, immediately pulling your body back against him with the arm he wraps firmly around you. 

Astarion gazes up at you, mouthing your name so softly, as if he's afraid it might break under the weight of his devotion.

“I love you.”

He says it again and again, his heart aching as you gather him in your arms and press a kiss against his mouth. 

“I love you too,” you murmur against his lips, sighing as you feel the wide grin that spreads over his face. 

You drift off with his head pillowed on your chest, comforted by the drumming of your heart and the hand you entangle with his own. By the time you wake, he's still nestled up against you, blissfully unaware of how beautiful he is as he slumbers peacefully in your embrace.

You smile fondly at him, content to let him rest for as long as he likes. Truth be told, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

[devnmon]

undoing heat

Summary: Astarion feeds from you the first time and finds himself aroused. What he doesn't know is if you feel the same.

warnings: porn with plot and A LOT of feelings, blood drinking during sex, vampire feeding, grinding, needy, touch starved astarion, piv sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, bj, oral (r!receiving), fingering

a/n: listen. i could’ve made this nice and short but you all know me. can never be normal about This Guy ever. so have fun chowing down on the absolute meal of a fic i’ve cooked up for you all. enjoy mwah (also big big kiss on the forehead to my lovely moots @clericblood n @tillysketch n @bodythieves for all their pre reading n helpful editing they did. i love u <3 )

word count: 12.6k

A vampire feeding from one’s neck is intimate.

It becomes a degree hotter when it’s Astarion doing so.

—

Cold.

For many years, all Astarion had felt was an absence. One that could never be filled.

But warmth… that was something he’d longed for.

Beams of light from the sun, an embrace, a fire crackling before him. All these aspects of life he imagined would never be within his grasp again. Replication of any such gratification was far fetched. A myth, something he would never truly see again.

Then, the tadpoles, the mind flayer ship, and you.

Since the abduction, he’d been in a state less desirable and more disoriented than ever. Weakened from lack of blood— or the deprivation of it. For the first time in two centuries, he had a chance to find something different. 

Astarion has since lost track of the last time he’s had the sun on his skin and been able to freely roam under its blessing light. Vampiric ways of undead life never granted him such a thing.

Once he met you, everything changed.

The many fights that stood ahead of him along with a merry band of companions compiled by fate itself meant that kobolds and boars would no longer suffice. Thus came the shame of wanting to taste that crimson liquid running hot right under your skin.

Catching him staring at your neck was the first hint of his vampirism, the red eyes and fangs moreso a quite literal dead giveaway. He thought himself clever trying to keep that part of himself hidden. But you knew better. 

The first time he fed on you was very special, not only for him, but you as well. To even have the trust in him after you caught the elf trying to steal a nip from your neck while you slept opened his eyes to what kind person you truly were.

Willing to share a part of your life force so he could become stronger, that did a number on him drastically. It warmed his heart the same way it was physically; a spark in the dark, a flickering that soon burned to a roar.

Astarion is lucky in more ways than one to have someone willing to give him blood for no reason other than you wanted to. To find him- a vampire- worthy of something so personal, built an undeserving ache in his chest. 

You could’ve mistaken him for a cougar that hadn’t eaten in days by the way he was zoning out. His eyes dropped to the rapid pulsing of your jugular, so lidded he was almost drooling at the sight. 

Thanks to you, Astarion’s sanguine hunger had been satisfied for the first time in two centuries. Not only that, but the warmth it granted him, down his throat and in the tips of his fingers was so gratifying it had almost made him cry. 

At first surge over his tongue, it traveled through his system faster than light. Eventually coating his teeth, dripping down the sides of his mouth, transiting through every vein to warm his frigid body. 

Tasting it – mortal blood for the first time brought a tear to his eye the second it spread selfishly across his tongue. Each time it soared over his taste buds filled him more than the last, all his strength devoted to reining in the hunger most of all.

He had no words for how consuming it became, only satiating to the selfish desire of getting lost in it. For a split second he was there, floating in an ever so perfect ecstasy, falling deeper and deeper into its embrace. 

Your blood fulfills what he’s tried to do for years with animals. To be his first… he can’t believe you’ve offered yourself to him in such a way.

He’s buzzing as your blood – as you course through him.

Succulent, warm and thick, he forces himself to back off before getting lost in your taste.

“Ah! That- that was amazing.” His words are breathless from the taste of you, almost slurring against the warm slide down his throat. 

You watch as he stands, the sound he makes swallowing a depraved one. He almost looks about ready to lean in for another drink, eyes widening for a moment before focusing on you again. 

“My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel… happy.” 

Happy he was, the blood going straight to his head… and other parts of him. 

One drop hadn’t made it past his lips, swiping it away on his finger. You stare up at him while he stands, weakened from the loss of blood and open wounds on your neck. Afraid the image of him savoring your blood would make your knees falter, you remain sat. 

Even with his pale complexion, he was beaming— glowing in the moonlight. An exceptionally good look on him.

“I look forward to seeing you fight, Astarion.” 

“With you by my side, it shouldn't take long at all.” he says with a wink, curtsying as he continues, “Now if you’ll excuse me, you’re invigorating, but I need something more filling.” 

As he turns toward the outskirts of camp, he pauses and turns back, sincerity filling his wine colored eyes when he speaks again.

“This is a gift you know, I won’t forget it.”

–

Immediately after draining a small animal, he’d noticed the lack of what mortal blood gave him; a rush so intoxicating. How long he’d survived in this world while missing out on such a thing, he would never know. 

Astarion gets overwhelmingly drunk off it all, a sensation he’s never gotten the privilege of exploring. To put it lightly, the man was overly sensitive and even the slightest touch across his chest sent his cock throbbing.

He’s not sure the last time he’s felt this type of arousal, not even sure of the last time he’s welcomed it. But he is aware of how much he wants to run his hands all over your body with his fangs in your neck. It makes him feel dirty, thinking of you in that way when all you’d done was give him a drink from your vein. 

He dotes on the image of you squirming under his touch a bit too long. Perhaps it was the blood talking, but accepting the image of you with your hands on his waist or anywhere else on his body makes a shiver run through him. For the first time it’s not out of frigidness, but one so invigorating he finds his eyes closed in sheer enjoyment. 

Astarion is warm all over, moreso from your blood he’s drank rather than the animals that helped satiate his hunger for the night. Thinking about the red liquid dripping from your neck when he pulled away– gods, the image was enough to make his vision hazy. He wasn’t aware of the raging hard on he’d gained from drinking something as luscious as your essence. It had never happened before when feeding on animals, but clearly this type was different. 

Was all mortal blood this potent? Would Astarion find the same hypnotisable taste in any of his other companions? Or was it you that was already affecting him in more ways than one that drinking your blood magnified? 

Either way, there was no containing it for the moment. What was he to do otherwise, walk into camp with a raging hard on? No, the embarrassment if someone– if you saw– might literally kill him. Better to sort it out in privacy while he still had some. 

Astarion freed his erection, dumbfounded at its warmth in his hand. Granted, he had not indulged in this sort of pleasure since… forever, it seems. The first full stroke down his length, he almost moaned too loudly, fingers gripping at the ruffles of his shirt, bottom lip caught between his pearlescent teeth. 

He was a sight, if you could’ve seen him then. Beads of sweat on his forehead, fangs glowing in the moonlight, cheeks pinked up just the slightest with how much he’s yearned for this sensation again. The elf’s high peaks quite fast, breath quickening as he attempted to stay quiet. 

Though he tries to picture anything else, the only image floating around behind his eyes is one of you. Your natural scent of sweetness, that pulsing jugular of yours, the kind hand you outreach towards all who need it. An inch further, just imagining your lips on his, is what brings him over the edge. 

 He’s not sure whether to feel relief or guilt when he spills over in his hand with a shudder. Once he steadies himself and cleans up, he’s quick to walk off as if nothing had occurred. How his mind and body ached upon his walk back into camp, observing you all tucked away in your separate corners of camp for the night. 

Astarion would just have to push down his guilt and hope to the gods it wouldn’t bother him in the days to come. 

–

Most nights afterwards were spent getting a control on the high your blood put him on. His first time though– had his body tingling in every possible way. Mortals truly underestimate the power that crimson liquid has over his kind. Astarion did not choose to spend two centuries draining animals. When the opportunity presented itself to him, truth be told he was a little nervous as to how he’d react. 

Your blood ran through his veins like lightning. Warming. Shockingly filling for once in his life. It’s up in his gums, behind his eyes, in the very essence of his being.

That night he realized how lucky he is for fate to have brought you to him. For you to trust him not to kill you upon his first taste of it. He’s elated, relieved, and knows for the first time, that he truly has someone who trusts him for the person he is. Not the vampire he happens to be.

He’s quite doting when he checks on you the next morning— a gesture that warms not only your heart, but your cheeks as well. You’ve never heard of his kind to be so concerned towards where their source of blood came from. A regular vampire would have taken what they wanted without care. 

But then again, he wasn’t so regular, was he?

“Good morning. How do you feel?”

Astarion’s eyes seemed to dart across your entire figure, looking for any sign of your current state. 

“I’m fine, I just feel a little woozy.”

“It’ll pass. I’m so glad last night didn’t end badly. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, though. Your blood was… so filling.”

“End badly? Wait… have you never fed on a human before?"

“Well, yes… We needn’t get into the gritty details as to why right now. I’ve had this condition for two centuries, but truth be told? You were my first.”

The vampire almost presented bashful when admitting this to you, as if it were a secret he’d never spoken aloud. 

“Wow, I’m not sure whether to be surprised or impressed to still be standing.” 

"I fed on animals for the better part of two centuries. Rats, cats, boars, kobolds... anything and everything except mortals. Since drinking from you, I feel at my best for the first time in my life. Apologies again, I should have told you about what I am.”

“If you needed blood, all you had to do was ask.” 

“I- Really?” 

You nodded. 

“I’ll let you have my blood. But only if I come to you first. Alright?”

“Of course, you needn’t say any more. Thank you.”

“Like you said, blood makes you strong. We’re going to need that on the road ahead, wherever it takes us. Have you got my back?”

“Always, my dear. Lead on.” 

–

It took an enormous amount of strength for him to resist his bloodlust turning to a feeding frenzy, even when he was consuming animals. But the ecstasy that came with mortal blood, especially for the first time, was more overtaking than he thought.

Apparently it had awoken another feral part of him. He’d savor your taste, reminisce about it whilst alone at night. Not only did it go to his head, but it focused him like nothing else. So much so that he can’t think of anything except you. Any attempt to keep his eyes off your jugular resulted in something much too overwhelming entering his system. Thus, when he wasn’t out on the road with you, his nose was stuffed in a book to keep his mind focused on the task at hand. 

Many more nights passed with you suffering a woozy morning as if you’d drank one too many glasses of wine. Luckily, a certain druid had joined your party with just the spell to cure you of the disadvantages your bloodlessness came with. 

Astarion noted the way you immediately trailed over to Halsin’s tent in camp the mornings after he fed, almost letting jealousy creep over his shoulder. Once he found you were only doing so to keep a level head on the road, that pinch of guilt became harder to push away. Not just its surge as if he was taking advantage of you, but the notion of something more stirring inside him when he tasted your blood. 

Was it only that you deserved more than what he was asking of you? Or perhaps the appreciation that at least one person in his life cared about how he was doing after so long of being disregarded in that manner? 

When a particularly rough battle left you all drenched in blood and limping back to camp, Astarion was hesitant to reply enthusiastically about feeding on you that night. He’d done so for the better part of all the past nights since his first time. 

You only stared at him, reluctantly confused that he said no. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m using you just for your blood. You’ve been kind to give me anything thus far. I’m grateful for it but… you don’t deserve me taking something so personal as that without anything in return.” 

“So, you don’t want to feed from me anymore?” 

If it weren’t for him being so godsdamned caring and sweet towards you right now, he would’ve picked up the hint of disappointment in your voice. 

“No– gods, no. I wouldn’t be here today without your generosity,” Astarion places his hand on your shoulder, “I’ve just… grown fond of you, and it would be wrong for me to continue taking advantage of how kind you are for my personal benefit. I want you to know I mean that and, well, you deserve something more for what you do for me.” 

His hand leaves your shoulder, the warmth of your body already infecting his ability to think straight while his gaze averts to your neck. 

“Astarion… I wouldn’t be giving you my blood if you didn’t need it. It makes me glad to have you by my side through all of this. If I have to bug Halsin every morning to cure me with a spell, then that’s a sacrifice I’ll make for you. Besides…” You trail off, noticing his eyes have left your face and are now locked on your neck. “Astarion!” 

“Wh-What? I’m sorry… It's been such a long day. What were you saying?” His hand scratches the back of his head nervously. 

“I was saying that what I do for you isn’t because I pity you or some other reason you may have thought up. You’re not forcing me to do anything I don’t want. But, if you’re sure about this, I won’t stop you from hunting for animals tonight. If that’s what you really want.” 

“Well, I don’t want to drink from animals. Their fur gets stuck in my teeth and it tastes awful. Your blood is much more filling,” he states, ignoring the way his chest heats up, “But today has beaten all of us down a peg and I think your neck could use the break. Wouldn’t want a bruise to tarnish your skin. Gods forbid. I’d never forgive myself. What I’m saying is I don’t have to feed from you every night, even though you generously offer it to me.” 

“If you insist… you know where to find me if you change your mind.” You replied, sighing lightly. 

“Indeed I do, darling. See you in the morning.” He bids you farewell with a wave and stalks off into the forest, the usual swagger in his walk making it even harder for your eyes to turn away. The way his tongue curls around the words he speaks throws your mind into a frenzy, wondering what it would be like with his tongue curled around something of yours. 

Astarion had been lucky enough to drink from you the past couple weeks on the road, dissatisfied at how much more hungry he felt after two small creatures. 

Gods, how much more is it going to take to be full again?”

About three animals for him to have the same fullness when drinking from you, but nothing compared to the warmth of your body. That was something he knew could never be replicated, you radiating a forge’s level of heat below him. Though perhaps it was only because he’d been deprived of such for so long. 

Resting against the log of a tree, he took a moment to catch his breath before the blood he'd ingested traveled south. Even when he wasn’t drinking from your neck, his mind went to you nonstop. Innocent thoughts like ones by your side during battle turned to reminiscing about how your body reacted to him when his mouth was against your neck. 

He wasn’t aware of it at first, too caught up in the less than satisfying taste spreading across his tongue. As the nights continued with him feeding from you, Astarion became more aware of your heartbeat pounding significantly faster whenever he neared you in proximity, how your breath shuddered upon his fangs in your neck. Of course you were nervous, what else was he to expect? To welcome some red eyed, pale skinned creature jamming its fangs into your jugular nearly every night without dismay?

Astarion tried his best not to ponder how your blood tasted, rich and succulent when flowing across his tongue, on his lips, down his throat. Unfortunately for him, the more he tried to push those thoughts away, the more you’d wriggle your way into his brain. He had missed his nightly taste of it, how much more full he became after a few sips rather than having to kill a few helpless small animals to even get close to how you made him feel. 

Your scent, your blood, you. 

Once again growing hard under his trousers to the point of frustration, pulling himself out in the cool air. It’s so unsatisfying to feel warmth under his skin that wasn’t from you. Not in the one simple way that got him high faster than light. Especially not when your blood shot through him, lingering at best and he couldn’t take how less buzzed he felt without it. 

Was he an addict for your blood, or just obsessed with you?

It all combined in his frenzy of getting himself off, hoping and praying he wouldn’t moan too loudly when he came. 

Vision hazy and body growing warmer, he stroked himself at a slow pace, relishing in every moment of the electrifying thrill. Every pass down his length makes him grow harder and much more inclined to indulge in thoughts he’d been pushing away. Swallowing the thought of you on your knees for him, his cock in your mouth. He wonders just how warm you are, whether it’s your tongue along the veins of his shaft or your heat sucking him in. 

Gods– he shudders at the vision apparating in his mind. 

Astarion’s hips stutter relentlessly as he comes in his hand, cleaning the warm liquid off with a rag before heading back into camp for the night. His gaze caught your figure before he shut his eyes, relishing in the luck of your presence. 

He woke the next morning drenched in guilt at remembering what he’d done the night before. Taking your blood, selfish as it was, for his own benefit. Then to run off to the woods of all places and deal with the complicated feelings arising because of it?

How fucked was that, he thought. 

How dare he get aroused at the thought of you squirming under his touch with his lips pressed against your neck. Fangs under your skin, sucking out the very liquid that kept you alive. 

That thick, rich, liquid. Running along your veins and pumping through your heart, keeping you standing before him. Quite literally your life’s essence, and he was the only individual out of all the others in your life to have a taste for it. 

It was foreign to him, this pull towards you traveling over his entire body. A thing he wouldn’t have given a second thought to before this whole mess. Now with the control over his own actions, things were much different. He felt if he was ever going to do something right for once, it would be with you. 

Time passed whilst keeping up your little routine; he would only feed from you when you told him so, attempting to rein in his obsession with how you tasted. He was sure the fangs in your neck was a less than desirable experience, which had him shuffling off awkwardly afterwards most times. Truth be told, he didn’t want you to see how floaty and giggly your blood made him, better to keep up his stoic vampire appearance than let you see how drunk he got off your blood, to keep that mask of his up than let himself catch feelings. 

That same mask was becoming heavier with each moment he lingered too long on you inside his head. The only question was, would its slipping result in something catastrophic? Or life changing? 

–

On the road ahead with that certain vampire at your side proved plentiful, finding yourself walking near him more often than not. Astarion became the first person you turned to when in need of a second opinion, reassurance, or for when you just wanted to be in his presence until your eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. You find comfort in his voice softening when you’re troubled, talking his pointed ears off about your past and if you’re truly capable of leading this group. 

“Your self doubts… They’re nothing to what you’ve gotten us through so far. You can do it, even if you think you can’t. And I’ll be here to make sure you get through.” 

He’d pushed your hair out of your eyes and made sure you were thoroughly hydrated after crying so much into his shoulder about it all. You thanked him with the promise to wash your tears out of his shirt the next morning, overly fatigued from all your sobbing. He shushed you while stroking your hair, only telling you to let yourself rest for the night. 

Upon waking the following morning, your head ached from the lack of hydration, finding yourself curled up into his chest, softly breathing as he slept. To avoid any awkward conversations, you managed to slip away before he woke. 

From the darker moments to the happier ones, Astarion was there for all of them. Finding the nicest wine for the celebrations you rarely had at camp, saving the best bottle for him as a gift. For his endless support of your endeavors, having your back in all the fights, and stealing you things without anyone noticing. 

All the softer times in passing, glancing towards him when he wasn’t looking, were when your eyes lingered. Beyond just his physical attributes, which were distracting enough, you felt a warmth in your chest getting up every day, knowing he’d be by your side. How you ached to see him smile or laugh as often as he was using those daggers he’s quite skilled with. His true beauty, the moments of happiness he found with you. Something about him looking as if he’d taken the place of the sun with the way he beamed. 

–

Choosing you to feed from rather than any of your other companions was special. It meant a great deal to you that it was your blood he was drinking- not Wyll’s or Gale’s- yours. 

His protective nature became much too obvious, as he’d place himself in front of you whenever someone stepped too close or became hostile towards you. Growling a threat towards said person always had your mind going someplace different, along with being thankful he stepped in to de-escalate the situation. 

Meanwhile everything Astarion does for you is out of his own growing affections. Ones he’s kept pushing further into himself. He wants to worship the ground you walk on for everything you’ve done for him. Not only do you make all the hard decisions and bond with others around you as easy as breathing, but to do so with your head held high, taking all the hits whether physical or mental. He adores you with all his being. 

From feeding him to supporting his endeavors with a smile, it’s the mental gymnastics he’s doing to keep himself sane that have been a pain in his ass. Getting off in the woods every night without fail has made the resentment of guilt a lump in the back of his throat. The filth that washes over him as he’s realized the desire to have you doesn’t just extend to your blood. Astarion wants to take in every inch of your body, its warmth with his fangs in your neck, how intimately his lips press to your skin while he sucks.

To extend your blood’s warmth to him, understanding how your body responds when he puts his hands in the right place. On your waist, between your legs, down your torso, around the lengths of your hair. Holding you softly while he drinks, the little death being shared between you two. His dreams are filled with his imagining of how you’d sound squirming and whimpering below him, waking up from how vivid they become at times. 

Soon as he’s come with you on his mind again, it’s back to keeping his feelings undercover. 

That is until one night, observing Gale let you taste the camp stew he was in the process of whipping up one night. An aching ball forming in his stomach at the sight of you indulging the wizard. Your batting eyelashes when you looked up at him as your lips dragged over the spoon. Sickness filled him, unlike anything he’d felt before. It made the bile in his stomach begin to churn, slowly shoving its way up his throat with distaste. 

Your actions were innocent on the surface, but he knew Gale had been in relations with a goddess. 

Seriously, the wizard? Who couldn’t shut up for more than five minutes even if his life depended on it? He probably doesn’t know how to be with a mortal after so long. Too caught up on that astral plane nonsense. At least I don’t need to project and want to be a god to get off.

He couldn’t be the object of your affections, surely… 

Whatever his intentions were with you, innocent or not, they would have to stop before he got too confident. Before you slipped right through his dexterous fingers to that fool. Of all the things he’s failed to stop from happening, he had to make sure this didn’t happen the most. All Astarion knew was that he was desperate to be close to you more than ever. 

His voice grinds the vampire’s gears from across camp, like nails on a chalkboard. Why was his laugh so boisterous? Ever heard of subtlety, Gale? 

He doesn’t deserve your kindness, doesn't deserve your opinion on his fucking stew. 

But himself? The gentle vampire who has only ever been by your side, stepped in front of you when people got a bit too threatening? Much better than a human who couldn’t even go five minutes without talking about properties of the weave or something along those lines. Astarion always tuned those tangents out for his own sanity. He’d much rather laser focus on something like your sweet voice. 

Perhaps it was irrational to think he was the only one deserving of your time, but there was nothing else consuming his mind. To even think about someone as talkative as that wizard was trying to insert himself into your close circle when he’s been there from the beginning? He had to stifle the laugh in the back of his throat. 

Just give me a reason, wizard. 

Astarion huffed to himself and walked away from the sight before he did something unsavory he wouldn’t forgive himself for. 

Camp had settled down for the evening, everyone quietly going about their nightly activities. Peeking his head out of the red clothed tent, Astarion glanced over to see that Gale had retreated into his and wasn’t coming out until the next morning. 

Perfect timing for him to visit you for his nightly feed, but the nudging concern of the plethora of words he wanted to get out to you tonight wasn’t fit for the confines of your tent. 

The heat that flushed through his chest upon nearing your tent made him take a deep breath, to which he regretted the moment it was too loud for his liking. 

“Astarion? Is that you?” 

Your sweet, muffled voice sounded out from inside, and before he could even reach out to open the flap, you’d stepped out into the night to greet him. 

“Well, good evening to you too.” he answered, “Eager for my arrival? Or were you expecting someone else?” 

He grinned cheekily, making you smile in return. Who else would you be expecting this routinely?

“We’ve been traveling together for how long now? I always know to expect you over anyone else. If it wasn’t you, I’d be worried.” You move to the side to grant him entry to your tent, but he stands still. 

“Actually, would you mind taking a walk with me? I’ve got to get out of this camp for a while.” 

You agree, letting Astarion lead you down a path to quite a lovely view, one he’s frequented as a moment of peace before heading back to camp from his hunts. 

He stops short and from how closely you were walking behind him you bumped into his back, breathing in his scent of bergamot and brandy for a moment before backing away. When he turns towards you, a soft chuckle left his chest.

“I… have something to tell you, and I wanted to not be in camp when I said it.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“Wrong? No, I–” he sighs, “There’s just something I need to get off my chest.” 

You looked up at him with those kind eyes, already feeling the heat in his stomach, churning his insides into goop. He took your silence as his cue. 

“Your blood, which you’ve been kind enough to grant me, helps me focus, yes. But you have an entirely more powerful effect on me. You’re selfless, kind and generous to those around you. Even to me, when I might not have deserved it.”

“Oh, Astarion…” 

He puts his hand up to stop you, so much more he has to say.

“You’re, well, everything to me.” 

The vampire’s voice breathily skirts over the word, as if it’s the first time he’s admitted it to himself. 

“You… you’re a vision. Everyone’s favorite, clearly. The one they all run to when there’s problems they can’t solve on their own. I… adore you for it. For being resilient even when the world may not have been so kind to you in return. You deserve every good thing that’s happened so far.” 

“No, I… I’m just doing what anyone else would have.” 

“Do you really think that? That me or— gods forbid, Lae’zel would’ve made the same choices?” 

“I… don’t know.” 

“For a fact, we wouldn’t. I don’t say things like this if they aren’t true, darling. I’m not a man of many words… unlike someone we both know. But that’s not the point. What is, is this. I’m fond of you in more ways than one, and I’m tired of keeping it bottled up. It’s become suffocating ever since this routine became regular for us. I’ve not been sure how to go about telling you all of it, but if I didn’t sooner or later, someone else would take the places I desire to be in. All I know is that whenever you’re not around, I worry, and I think about you constantly.” 

He looks relieved upon letting his words settle in the air, wringing his hands together nervously. You’re silent before you take a step closer to him, brushing a curl behind his ear and cupping his cheek. 

The stoic, unbothered vampire persona he’d been putting on had slowly worn away upon spending more time with you. It warmed his heart to see you not turn a blind eye to those in need of help, after he’d done so many a time. From reluctantly going along with whatever you said, to taking pride in being part of the ones who brought joy to less fortunate people, he found himself for the first time in two centuries, glad he had found such a soul. 

“You’re so…” you sigh, “I’ve been thinking about you too. So much.. I wish you had said something sooner. Then I wouldn’t have spent so many nights wondering if you felt the same. Worrying that I served no other purpose to you. But now…” you trail off, his rubies catching the light, as if they were filled with stars. The rest of your words escaped you, except, “Oh, just kiss me, you damn fool.” 

Astarion’s eyelashes fluttered, softening at your words, immediately feeling welcome to step closer. His cold palm cups your cheek as you’ve done to his, bringing you in close to touch your lips with his. One kiss sets him on fire, then another, and he’s pressing further against your mouth. It was almost as if he’d been waiting twice as long to do this with you, as you’ve been eager to do it with him. Your arms wrap around his waist, pulling him into your chest; his natural coolness fills the air between you. 

His hands, anxious as they are, softly place themselves onto your waist for the first time. Your lips are warm against his, your everything is warm against him. Intimately and gentle over all.

You pull back from him breathlessly, gods are his lips ever so addicting. Some of his saliva is left on your bottom lip as you do, but it’s not unwelcome. Nothing about him is. 

Your foreheads rest against each other, both of you grinning in the moonlight. There’s a light pink tinge to the tips of his ears, Astarion feels weightless in the grasp of your arms. 

“Somehow you’ve managed your way into my heart. I wouldn’t want anyone else intertwined so deep. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Astarion. You mean the world to me.” Your words coat his skin like honey, sticking to him as they echo in his mind. 

“You’re such a gift. One of the things in this world I treasure more than anything. Above any gold or trinket I could ever steal.” His thumb caresses the apple of your cheek, your skin tingling under his touch. Astarion could feel the heat in your cheeks from his simple but sweet contact. 

“Gods, you’ve always been good with words. Not like anyone I’ve ever met before.” 

“None of your past lovers have had such great hair either, I know…” He turns to the side, showing off his profile and the silvery curls adorning his head. 

You giggle. Of course he would take a sincere moment to talk about how pretty he was. “Well yes, that, and none have been at my side as diligently as you without second thought.” 

“You don’t have to. You make it so easy to show up for you and be by your side… that I don’t even have to try.” 

“My sweet star,” you cupped his face now with your palm, “No one as loyal has ever been in my life before. I’m so grateful to have you.” 

Astarion’s pearlescent fangs glistened in the moonlight as he grinned, pulling you in for another kiss. You could feel the vibration of his groan on your mouth as he leaned in further, a firm grip on your waist now. He was almost in disbelief of the luck he’d come about, yet here he is, combining his lips with yours and getting to relish in the warmth of your mouth for the first time without that lump in the back of his throat. 

You pull back, breathlessly, a string of saliva connecting the two of you before you speak again.

“Wait, do you…” you swallow his taste down, “still want to feed from me tonight?” 

“How could I say no…” he replies, “Your blood is so very tasteful. Decadent.. Almost as good as my favorite wine.” 

“You don’t need to flatter me, you already own my heart.” You roll your eyes dramatically, but your cheeks reddening just proves how much it actually meant to you. 

“Even better in that case, now I can watch you blush without worrying if you feel the same.” 

Leading him with your hand in his, the two of you made your way back to camp, taking your sweet time giggling and kissing him while you walked. As you laid down in your tent, Astarion’s hands trailed up your torso, sensitive ears tuned in to your heart rate picking up its pace. The canvas of your neck was too pretty not to kiss, which he took liberty in doing now shamelessly. Each press of his lips against the flow of your blood under your skin only made his hunger grow, but he hadn’t wanted to bite you yet. No, he’d take his time, painting his way across softly. 

Upon his third kiss, you began to giggle again, such perfect music to his ears. Not knowing what came over him, his lips attached to your neck again, desperately. Kissing and sucking and nipping ever so lightly with his teeth, that you whined. 

“Astarion… you whispered, “You need to feed.” 

“I know, my love. But, everyone needs to know you’re mine.” He purred, the tone in his voice making it clear he was not above marking you up. 

You giggled again, “Okay, well when you’re done, it’s my turn.” 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time…” he flirted, eyes lidded as he looked down upon you. 

So you let him continue, marking your neck up with several bruises, before pulling back and gazing at his masterpiece. 

“Gods, I tried to be gentle… but I might have gotten carried away a bit. You know how I get around you.” 

“Oh, shut it and come here.” As if the two of you couldn’t get closer in proximity, Astarion leaned down to give you access to his neck. You decided on leaving the area with his scars alone, but wrapped your hands around his nape for even more contact. When his body reacted to your soft kisses, his thumbs pressed circles into your waist, breathing became heavier. His forehead dropped onto your shoulder as you continued, sucking and laving on his skin with your tongue, almost rasping with how his hunger surged. He could smell your hot blood just beneath the surface, singing in your veins. His mouth opened, scraping the tops of his fangs against your skin with a light scratch. 

“Do it…” you whispered, hearing the growl in his breathing. Without another word, Astarion sunk his fangs into the spot they frequented. What surged over his tongue was decadent, sweet, so thick and familiar that it danced across his tongue with every swallow. 

“That’s a good vampire…” One of your hands reached up to stroke the back of his hair, its soft curls sliding through your fingers with ease. A very prominent whine vibrated through the skin of your neck. 

Meanwhile the hands on your waist never stopped their soft rubbing up and down as he fed. Within his palms stirred a warmth, something he had been itching to do upon his first feed, it became so overwhelming. That sea of ecstasy he wanted to set adrift in seemed so much nearer now. With you, it would never cease. 

He released your neck with a gasp, blood dripping down his lips. Before he could clean himself up, your other hand reached up to swipe it away and let him lick it off your thumb. As he did so, you could’ve sworn his eyes glowed for a second. 

“Thank you, my love. For always feeding me so diligently.” Astarion drops a kiss on your cheek, moving himself to lay next to you.

“How else are you supposed to be big and strong for our battles, hm?” 

“Certainly not without your beloved blood, that’s what I know. Now, let’s get some rest. Today’s been long enough, no use in making it longer. Although I could stare at you forever…” 

“Oh, shush. Goodnight, Astarion.” 

“Goodnight, love.” 

He pulled you in close to his chest, so you’d fall asleep in his arms, listening to every heartbeat. 

Morning came with warm coffee and fresh bread that Gale had picked up before anyone woke. He offered you some along with a nice jam spread he’d made. Before he started along another spiel of talking his head off just to be near you, you moved your hair to the side, exposing your neck littered with red splotches from the night before. The wizard, rendered speechless, was even more surprised when Astarion made his way over and slinked his arm around your waist with a kiss to your temple. He then rushed off, almost dropping his own cup and getting to whatever business he’d be up to in camp. 

Across the many days that passed, from the goblin camp, eventually to Baldur’s Gate, your relationship with Astarion became so much more. He was devoted and kind, everything you expected him to be, not just spitting flirtations at you without care. The man knew which names you preferred to be called, ones he knew would have you bending to his every whim. 

You didn’t have enough gold to purchase a new knife for him? There he was, whispering into your ear, Darling, the store manager is slowly going over all the different potions with another customer. She won’t even notice its disappearance. 

So when you slipped the knife into your pack, he knew he’d gotten what he wanted. Perhaps not the best use of your time, but he took a little joy in corrupting your usual honest self. As a treat to lighten your conscience though, he’d had a necklace engraved from the same shop with his initials. It looked so delicate around your neck, the shine of its metal mirroring the glimmer in your eye. 

The soft mattresses of Elfsong Tavern were a blessing; not only did Astarion persuade the barkeep to give you the rooms for free, but the top floor was also all private. Everyone finally got their own space, save for the ones who decided to pair up together. 

He would feed from you almost nightly again, save for a few days here and there. Taking his time to kiss your neck, helping clean you up afterwards after he was done. Always using his lithe fingers to rub a healing salve into where he’d bitten. Though it became a guilty pleasure for him to see your eyes closed when he did so, ending up indulging in each other’s lips more often than not. Along the way, your desire for him simmered under your skin, desperate hands traveling across the expanses of his back, across the ridges of his scars ever so gently. 

One night you quite literally began grinding up against him, his thigh pressed under yours for a little tease. It was even before he started to feed, that you couldn’t resist him any longer. Your kissing quickly became more feverish, dotting your lips across his face and his neck with wild abandon. It was when you flipped Astarion over to straddle his lap that he caught the ravenous look in your eye. 

“What’s gotten into you?” He inquired, hands finding their place on your waist. 

“Astarion, has it occurred to you that we haven’t had sex?” You asked in reply, hastily moving your hair out of your face. 

“Well, of course it has. I just never wanted you to feel obligated to, if that wasn’t something you were ready for.” 

“I wasn’t… not at first. But I trust you much more now than I ever did, and… I don’t think I can hold back anymore. I want to do this with you.”

“You do?” 

“I dream every night about how it would be to feel you in that way. To cry your name in pleasure as I…” You trailed off, already recognizing the growing arousal for him stirring. 

“Oh… I see my love. This is something you’ve thought about for a while, isn’t it?” 

Astarion’s voice borders on genuine concern and his purr-like tone, almost as if he’d been thinking about it as well.

“I’ve thought about it and thought about it to the point where I can’t take the fantasies anymore. I have to have you…” Your voice dripped with desperation, as he noted your scent pricked with desire. 

His eyes go lidded, wrecking the image of that sweet vampire persona you’ve come to know and love in a second’s time. 

“I’d love nothing more. But if you get uncomfortable, we can stop whenever you’d like. Promise.” 

“I promise. I love you, Astarion.” 

“And I love you, too. My precious darling.” 

Your lips attached to his again, ever fervent than before. You so proudly moaned into his mouth, tasting his tongue swirling around yours. His breathing became heavier, growling into your mouth as his hands slid down to the soft padding of your ass and gripped firmly. The wet sounds of your lips moving together so perfectly sparked the filthiest of desires in his brain. 

Pulling apart from him with a gasp, you swallowed before thinking again. 

“Wait, there’s one more thing I have to tell you.” 

“What is it, pet?” 

“That night when you fed on me, it… did something to me. Something I didn’t understand at first, but now I do. It turned me on… and I liked it.” Astarion noted the scent of your lust as you spoke, and the way your heartbeat jumped. 

“Oh, you filthy devil. And I thought you were nervous about me feeding from you… When really it was turning you on… making you crave me, hm?” 

“I... yes.” 

Astarion bit his lip, dragging his eyes down your torso slowly before meeting your eye again. 

“And…?” 

“And… I would love nothing more than to honor you with my blood once more while we make love.” 

Astarion’s fangs make an appearance when he smiles oh so wide, eyes glowing with how much he is relishing in this moment. 

“You’re serious?” 

“Astarion, take whatever you want from me. take my love, my blood, my body. I trust you. Wholly.”

"You have no idea how much those words mean to me, thank you.” 

He pressed his lips to yours passionately, before pulling away to speak again. 

“May I confess something, this time, love?” 

“Of course.” 

“I felt the same when I fed from you.”

“You…” 

“Well darling, I can’t lie, I watch your blood slide along your veins whenever I’m close to you. It’s just part of my vampiric nature, but I can’t help it. Not when you’re this addicting,” 

“Tell me more…” your hands cupped his cheeks, playing with the stray curls that threatened to fall in front of his face. 

“From the first bite… it was such an aphrodisiac, and I couldn’t resist what power it had over me. It felt so wrong at the time, when we weren’t together. To think of you like that, I mean. The blood… took on a life of its own inside me. But now that we’re together… it seems right to tell you.” 

“That’s… gods. I don’t blame you at all. I would’ve done the same if I were in your place.” Immediately after your admittance, your cheeks pinked up right quick. 

“Oh, really?” 

“You’ve got me there, it seems.”

His hips grinded up onto you from below, noting each time his breath hitched between kisses. A hand scraped through his hair, sensation heightening what arousal was already beginning to simmer throughout his body. 

“You know… not once did I think you were too rough with your bites. You never even left a bruise… When you were close enough to breathe in my scent, you always made sure it never hurt. And I guess that… along with so many other things… is what made me fall for you. I enjoyed being close to you, I always will.” 

“I had to. I couldn’t take something so precious from you without care. I would’ve hated myself if that happened.” 

“I admire the strength you had… even for your first time drinking from a human. What an honor.” 

“The fact that you continue to bless me with your blood is just another testament to our bond. Thank you for trusting me.” One of his hands slinked its way down and interlocked with yours, thumb rubbing the top of your hand delicately. 

“I always will,” you replied, bringing his hand up to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to it. 

“May I ask for just a little taste before we… dive head first into each other? A petite one, at that.” 

You smiled. As if he’d ever have to go hungry again with you. 

“Anything you want, my star.” 

“Perfect…”

His eyes closed in bliss at the sneaky idea he’d just thought up. “Turn around for me, I want to try something.” 

You sat with your legs sprawled out, with Astarion out of your view. 

 “Close your eyes, darling.” 

You did as you were told, awaiting his first move. Astarion’s contact began with one of his hands running up your back triggering a flurry of goosebumps to rise across your skin. You exhaled shakily, intrigued by what he had in mind, but also the aching need for him continued to grow. 

That same hand moved to the right side of your neck, resting his fingers over your pulse point to take in how fast it was pumping that rich blood through your system. 

But he wouldn’t bite you just yet. 

His second hand wrapped around your waist, doing the same motion of small circles after slipping his hand under your shirt. You felt his breath turn to a low snarl against your neck, running his left hand across your stomach to your midriff and down the cloth of your pants. 

That hand rubbed over your crotch as he finally sunk his fangs in, leaning into his chest. Sharp coldness of said bite turned to pleasurable and warm quicker than you could expect. 

Your whole body warmed under his touch, the same heat filling you as it did on the night of his first bite. Except there was no shame or reason to hide it this time. So you welcomed it, along with the filthy desires that followed. 

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth, moaning low in his ear as he drank, with your head tilted to the side. His cold hand on the cloth of your mound only made matters worse, lifting your hips up for more friction. Gripped firmly under his hands, you could tell Astarion was smiling by the way his lips moved over where he had bitten. 

He lets up quickly after a few gulps, satisfied with his little drink. 

When your head falls back onto his shoulder, glancing upwards to the red lipped vampire, he catches the glimmer of your hazed eyes. 

“Oh, there’s the spark.” 

“Astarion…” you whined, unwilling to keep your desire for him under wraps. There was no point in doing so, he had you right where he wanted you. 

“Ah, you don’t have to say another word. I already know, darling.” 

His lips, stained with the crimson of your blood, press against yours again, moving his left hand to the waistband of your pants. 

The other that’s cradling your neck travels downwards, fingertips sliding over your shirt to grasp at your breast, nipple hardening under his light touch. All he has to do is rub over it once, before it made an appearance through the cloth. 

You aren’t wearing anything else under your shirt. Cheeky, he thought. 

“Your whole body’s been waiting for me to take you since that first day, hm?” A soft, massaging grip from his hand continued on the plush of your breast. 

“Mmnh… yes,” you whisper, “Please…” 

“Shh, sh sh sh. It’s alright. I’ve got you right where I want you.” 

You look to him, buzzing with eagerness in your eyes and plead again silently for him to touch you. The eager hand at your navel slips into your underwear, inching towards where you truly need him. To find you completely soaked wasn’t much of a surprise. 

Two of his fingers part your drenched folds apart, licking his lips at the knowledge of how much slick is gushing from you. With his fingertips, he ghosts over your aching clit once before traveling downwards again and pressing into your wet entrance ever so slowly. Not only do they slip inside almost immediately, but the sound that leaves you is incomprehensible compared to the ones you were making before. 

His digits are welcomed with no resistance, as if he couldn’t tell how alight your body became under his touch. Even through your clothes, the squish as they drag against your walls is enough to make him groan appreciatively. You gasp, the intrusion of such a different temperature compared to your own, noting the undeniable pleasure when he finally manages to find that sweet spot inside you.

Letting them rest against it for a moment before curling to his leisure stretches you out so nicely for him. Any upper body strength holding you up faded faster than light, falling against his broad chest with ease. 

You moan his name without a single thought, the apples of his cheeks pinking up from your glorious sounds that no one else was lucky enough to experience. It was music to his ears. How desperately he let the electricity form, tingling its way around on his skin. Slowly letting his own enjoyment build out of dragging his fingers in and out of you, he attuned to the hammering of your heart against his chest. 

Astarion took pride in every whine you let out upon the motion of his fingers, letting his thumb rub circles into your clit while he did so. 

“Gods, I want to undress you with my teeth… take my time with you… forever if I could.” he purred in your ear, earning him another breathy moan from you. 

“I can hardly resist you. Don’t make me–” 

“Beg? Oh, but that would be such a nice look on you…” 

“Astarion…” 

“Relax, darling.” 

You melt under his touch at the command, eliciting a proud smile from him from the knowledge that you’re wrapped around his finger. It’s not surprising how you already feel your arousal peaking from his simple touches, his heavy breath in your ear only urging you on further. Already eager to feel you clench around his fingers as you come undone. 

“You’re so close already, pet. Want to come on my fingers so bad, hm?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, “Please…” 

“Then come for me.” 

The next circle over your clit sends you soaring over the edge, breathing heavily and whining with a blinding release. Astarion’s lips peck and lick softly over your neck as you do so, relishing in the scent of pure ecstasy you emit. He’s already itching to be inside your walls, but desires to savor your taste on his tongue beforehand, as if he could be sustained from only that. 

He knows the way you write underneath his hands is only because of him, which only makes him grow harder tenfold. As his fingers pull out of your underwear, the sheen of your slick is such a sight to his eyes. Astarion is quick to bring your fingers to his mouth, letting your aroma fill his nose before indulging himself with you on his tongue. His eyes close upon your taste, almost as good as your blood, but nonetheless, one that takes hold of his mind so strongly, he can’t think of much else. 

“Your taste is like nothing else…” 

He crawls around you to your front, pushing you back onto the pillow behind him. 

“I must have more of you…” 

“Take whatever you want from me.” 

Astarion’s nifty hands pull both your pants and underwear down in one motion, not before noting how soaked your garments were and discarding them behind him. Between your legs was such a mess, one he undoubtedly caused; seeing you like this though, in the shallow wake of your high coursing through you, was where he found himself entranced. 

As if that wasn’t enough of an image to sear into his brain, you discarded your shirt off to the side, tired of the confining layers that kept him from seeing all of you. 

“I knew you were a vision, but this… not even the gods could find enough time to worship at your altar. You’re perfect.” His last compliment is admitted almost breathlessly, as if he’d walked in on a painter sculpting their muse. 

“Stop with the flattery and get up here.” 

Astarion compiled, meeting your lips with his while his hand grazed down your chest, fingertips like drops of cool water in between the sensitive skin of your cleavage. The stark difference in his body temperature made a chill run up your spine, turning on the most sensitive parts of you so easily.

Your lips intertwined moan after moan with his, while the touch of his hand traveled to your nipple. Another trails feather light across the expanse of your thigh. One flick of his thumb against it, and you were rutting up towards his body again. 

“Do you like that?” he murmured, too entranced with how you look below him. 

“Mhm… do it again.” 

He needs no further encouragement, diligently placing each way you like to be touched into a perfect little spot in his mind. Your mind is empty of anything else other than his hands on your body, exploring every inch. The echo of your voice in his ears does more than enough to spur him on. His subtle flick over your hardened bud is like a switch, setting your whole body off. 

You grip at the hair atop his head, pushing him down towards the apex of your legs. What you don’t expect is his lips to travel with the movement, pressing a path from your jawline down your neck, not before stopping to kiss and lick once or twice over each hardened peak and soft skin surrounding them. It then follows down your stomach to your navel before his tongue comes into play, laving over them the slightest bit through each kiss. 

When he comes face to face with your core, Astarion can’t control the way he begins to salivate at the sight. He’s breathing so heavily still, your scent of lust and sweat wafting around his head. He leans down, expecting to feel his tongue on you, but instead he kisses your pubic mound with appreciation, hooking his arm over your thigh. 

“Astarion…” 

He knows what you want, what you need from him, and he’s quick to indulge. He leans further down to your sensitive parts, and can’t help but run two fingers through you again to see how you shine. That ecstasy he took from licking you off his fingers would be nothing compared to diving in head first to your joyous arousal. When his eyelashes flutter and go hooded, it’s no surprise that he finally leans in, tongue first starting from your dripping entrance and all the way up to right over your sensitive button. His tongue laps at your opening, swirling and darting around to collect and devour every drop of your sweetness. 

The tip of his nose prods at your clit just enough to make you clench, each of the rogue’s movements calculated and determined to relish in how you spread across his tongue. When he swallows, a moan of content vibrates through you and your head falls back in gratification. It made his nose against your clit much more hypersensitive and your hips almost began stuttering upwards for more. 

Astarion’s multi talented tongue threatened to send you over the edge once more, but you nudged him a certain way and he let up. 

“You taste so good, I can’t get enough of you. My love…” His hand stroked your inner thigh softly, an action of comfort that only sent another jolt through you. 

“You’ve already made me come once and I haven’t even gotten the chance to touch you yet…” you whined, knowing all this pleasure taken should be given in return. Especially for a man such as himself. Your mouth watered thinking about it. 

“Oh, darling,” he laid a kiss on your heat, “You don’t have to do a thing for me.” 

“You’re very sweet, but if I don’t get to have you as you’ve had me, I will lose my mind. Now…” 

The assertiveness you commanded over him did nothing but command him to obey, unwrapping himself from your thighs before sitting up. Your eyes immediately traveled down to his crotch, where his pants did very little to obscure his tenting beneath the fabric. Without another thought, you push him back onto the bed to straddle him, grinding your bare cunt against his cock. The friction is incomprehensible, but you must stay focused; this was about him now. 

Your hands lock around the nape of his neck, only letting one of your wrists trail over his lips. His first instinct is to kiss it, but then he remembers why you both are here. Your blood continues to pump loudly in his ears, its aroma still prominent in his mind. 

“Go ahead, I know you want to…” you spoke in a low voice, goading him on to sink his fangs in. His head lowers, red eyes lidded and locked on yours. He abides, the quiet squelch into your wrist paired with the sting of his teeth’s sharpness a minor pain at this point for you. 

The slow pulls he takes immediately pink his cheeks and tips of his ears up so much so, you thought he might’ve been feverish if he wasn’t of vampiric nature. Out of curiosity, you ran your fingertip over the pinkness in his ear to find it warm– hot, even. Astarion released your wrist with a whine, gasping at your sudden contact. 

“Sorry, did that hurt?” 

“N-No… do it again, please…” He whispers his last word, the alluring persona washing away with every small rub, whining even louder this time. Within your teasing, Astarion takes liberty to heal your wrist and kiss it once the puncture marks faded away. 

His head falls back in bliss, feeling the warmth of his blood travel down his throat with your hand. It lightly trails down his jaw, your thumb lightly ghosting over his adams apple as he swallows down the rest. Astarion whimpers something pathetic, the weight of you over his cock making it throb unnecessarily harder than it already was. 

“Did my blood just… do that?” You glanced downwards at the erection you straddled. 

“I think so,” he replied breathlessly, passionately connecting your lips with his. 

“Let’s get these off you. That does not look comfortable and… I want to make you feel so good…” 

“That sounds delectable, pet.” Astarion replies, letting your greedy little hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt to discard it. 

You paused a moment before going any further, taking in the picture of him below you. What a vast expanse of his chest that has your eyes glowing, as his rubies look upward to you. You kiss him once more, peppering kisses down his sharp jawline to the sensitive skin between his pecs and flitting your tongue across his nipples in the same nature that he’d done to you. 

“Hah-” you hear him gasp, knowing you’re doing something right. He intently listens to your heart rate and how fast your blood is pumping through your body while you travel down his own. Kissing your way to his navel and licking softly, pulling the cutest little moans from him. The strong ridges of his torso are next for your lips, letting your tongue drag across it from time to time. Your hands tug his pants down over the length of his prominent bulge. 

You discard them ever so quickly, his cock springing up eagerly, as pretty as the rest of him. His pink tip throbs in the cooler air, finally freed from his tight clothing. 

“Gods damn…” You muttered in disbelief. Of course such a pretty man would have a pretty cock to go along with the rest of him. 

“Look at what you do to me…” Astarion whines, biting his lip and tossing his head back. He doesn’t have to say anything else before you’re lowering your mouth and kissing his tip, lightly dragging your tongue over his slit, desperate to please. His cock twitches, standing even more upright against his toned stomach. 

“You’re perfect… in every way.” You comment, looking up at him before wrapping a warm hand around his base. It’s as if you could feel all of the blood he’s consumed pumping through him while in your hand. You inch up his shaft, letting your palm cover his tip completely to hear him whimper again. 

“Ah–” 

What makes him grow even harder is the gaze in your eyes as you continue to fist him, the way your lips are parted and your tongue threatening to escape again. Astarion doesn’t expect your other hand to massage his balls, only earning you an even higher pitched moan from him. 

Before he knows, you’re bending down again, flitting your tongue over his slit to taste the salty precome. Your soft lips roam down his length, leaving the sweetest of kisses as you continue. His chest heaves, whole body firing up in response. When your hands are replaced by the warmth of your mouth and your tongue down the side of his cock, he almost cums right then and there. 

But he indulges you, letting your movements continue and swallows down what noisy sounds he would’ve made. The moment he does, you lift off him with a knowing look. 

“Let me hear you, please,” you ask, your vampire nodding before raking one of his hands through your hair. Your warm mouth continues, before his hips begin stuttering and his curses switch to unintelligible whining again. After all the teasing and pushing all the right buttons on his body, you’re seemingly about to send him barreling towards his release with the consistency of your mouth on him. Licking the side of his cock as you move up and down, lips red and swollen from the friction. You look a perfect mess with your saliva covering him and doing so willingly on him like this. 

“Gods, I’m going to–” 

“Come…” you plead, “for me…” 

That’s all Astarion needs to hear, hips stuttering as he bucks into your mouth, spilling down your throat with a groan that tapers off into a content whimper of your name. You swallow every drop of his spend and ease him down from the peak of his high. Chest heaving, you release him with a pop, cock twitching in the open air, dripping and still half hard. A sheen of sweat covers his forehead, glistening in the light of the room. 

“Thank you, my darling.” Astarion leans down, cupping your cheek with his hand and kissing you, tasting himself on your lips. 

“You look so pretty when you come…” you reply, wiping the extra saliva off your mouth. 

“Not as pretty as I’m going to look when I fuck you.” His voice lowers to a purr, immediately bringing you closer to him with his strength. “You'll take every inch, won’t you?”

“Mhm,” You whimper in reply as Astarion crawls over you, dragging his fingers ever so lightly over your torso. 

“Now tell me, did you touch yourself while thinking about me?” Your face is too quick to give you away to deny it, feeling your cheeks heat up. That’s enough of an answer for him. 

“You did, didn’t you? Don’t be shy. I want to hear that dirty little mouth admit it.” 

“Yes, I did. I… fucked myself with my fingers wishing it was you. I got off on the high your bite gave me. Gods…” You cover your face in embarrassment, but there was no admitting that to him with a straight face. 

“It’s alright, little love. No need to be embarrassed. I did too. My mind said no, but my body, filled with your blood, might I add, said yes. I dreamed of you laid out like this for me, so many damn times before I ever thought about it being real.” His hand pulls yours away from covering how much your cheeks are pinked up at the admittance of such a thing. 

“My tongue still remembers the way your blood tastes, you know. I can’t wait to fuck into you and taste you again.” 

“Please… please, please…” you whimper, finally at the crux of your fantasy where it becomes reality. All the nights you spent forcing yourself to be quiet, coming with a whisper of his name, were your real life now. 

“Please, what?” 

With the way he hovers over you now, his cock rests just over your navel, almost perfectly lining up with how it’ll fit inside you. 

“Bite me– drink my blood as you put your cock inside… I want to feel it grow.” You mewl, and when he growls with that all knowing smile, you know he’ll give you what you want. 

Your lips smash together this time, ever so hungrily, almost bordering on needy. Astarion pulls back for a moment, before letting his eyes drop to the pulsing point on your neck to lean down and meet it with a kiss. 

There’s nothing like the cold sharp sting of his fangs that soon melts into the purest form of euphoria as he slowly drinks, tongue greedily sweeping over the marks he’s made. The way he murmurs little strings of praise upon his approval against your throat, with blood covered lips. 

His tip prods at your entrance, pushing in slowly but with no resistance to the hilt before he’s consumed too much. Between the pulls he takes from your neck, he’s groaning with each swallow. Your blood sings inside him, truly feeling the aphrodisiac that is your essence of life. It consumes him, taking over the vast inches of his pale skin. Astarion’s grip on your body becomes the thing he clings to, letting his hands find your waist and back of your neck again. He pulls you closer to him, attempting to override the high he’s been put on, but he falls short just the slightest bit. 

From this point you were overjoyed to finally feel the drag of his cock against your walls, going from filled to the hilt to somehow even deeper, your blood filling him as he has filled you. It was poetic in a sense, erotic, and if you weren’t so lost in the high his bite was giving you, you could have cried at this ever so perfect moment. 

Finally he releases your neck with a gasp, apples of his cheeks pinked up, and eyes shimmering. Astarion is grinning ear to ear as he looks down on you, triggering a blissed out smile from your own lips. 

“How do I look?” you ask, slurring your words a little. 

“Beautiful. Like you always do.” When he asks, “Did you feel it?” in a low voice, you know he’s growing so impatient. 

“Mhm… fuck me… fuck me so good, the way you know how, Astarion.” 

Your moan again as his lips collide with yours, the first few thrusts of his cock slow and methodical. He angles his hips in such a way to hit that spongy sweet spot inside of you without trying, relishing in the friction of your walls. 

“So ready for me, and still so tight. Fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you? Hah–” 

His voice drips with lavishness, a devoted tone and desperate to please. 

“Astarion… faster, please…” 

He says no more, only growling in agreement as his hips pick up the pace. He smiles blissfully while his thrusts find a steady pace inside you. It’s even harder to not lose himself like he has in your neck several times before, soaked in happiness as his pace evens out. What a mistake he makes as he looks down at your neck, becoming so much more difficult not to lose all control and rut into you like a cat in heat. 

You moan out his name, every thrust a commitment to giving you his all each and every day he’s with you. 

“Again,” he says through gritted teeth. 

“Astarion.” his mouth is on you again, eager for another taste, snagging your lip with his fang. 

“Again.” 

He commands in a tone that leaves no room for second thought. The friction of his cock against your walls, swallowing him in repeatedly, as if it were what your body was made for, brings you barreling towards your release. It’s when he reaches down where the two of you meet in the most intimate way, that you lose all train of thought. Your mind goes fuzzy as his fingers swirl at your clit, your combined fluids doing enough to lubricate the way he circles over your clit. 

“I’m going to…” 

“Come for me… Please darling, gods, please…” 

The ruthless pace he keeps up in order to come with you will definitely leave you sore in the morning, along with bloodlessness and at much too many disadvantages. But in this moment, you just don’t care– sharing this pure hot bliss and pleasure with Astarion has tied your souls together for eternity. 

So when his hips stutter again, holding himself inside you as he paints your walls with his warm cum, is when you know he’s yours forever. You shatter around him, clenching uncontrollably that he almost comes a second time. Both your movements slow to a halt, catching your breath as your heartbeats continue to pound in your ears. 

“I love you, thank you…” Your voice is hoarse, but appreciative, as you speak

“I love you, infinitely more…” He returns your sweet words. 

When Astarion lays down next to you, he can’t quite help the throb of his heart in an endless river of warmth. You’ve put him there, not just physically, but spiritually and mentally. Within his heart he knows he can love and trust you like this till the end of his days. 

[libbybee]

IN THE HEAT OF YEARNING — SA

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

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

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

AO3 ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ PLAYLIST

‎

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‎

[annikvs]

Late doing Ascended Astarion x Consort week challenge.

Day 1 "Bonds".